The First Gate to the Underworld

The following is another out-of-context, random snippet: a taste of the three part book series that I have been slowly working on. As I mentioned, it is a passion project born of a desire to preserve my familial history, culture and traditions. 

Just as a reminder on the project:

"This epic narrative, which begins just after world war 1 and is set in Sicily, follows the transformational journey of Aradia Medrano, birthed twice into surreal situations: once as the avatar of the Mother Goddess, and once as a powerful vampire. But not just any vampire. A creature from Romani folklore called a Mullo. A "Mullo" is born of pain and suffering and injustice all served up fresh on a wrongful death and an improper burial. 

You might be thinking "Ravenant," and you'd be right -- sort of. When a poor soul rises from the grave to seek justice and/or revenge on those who wronged them in life, AND kills them by drinking their blood and then being cursed to roam the earth for all time, AANNNDDDD can only be stopped by their first born.... you get a Mullo. Or in my story's case, a Mulla -- which is the feminine version. 

I employed the stories of my elders to serve as the backdrop and origin of my character, took the lore of the Mullo, and added the mysticism of my personal family lineage. It is many things, this book. It's folklore. It's historical fiction. It's fantasy. And -- it's horror.

On the outside.

On the inside, it is an attempt to decolonize my people. It is me sharing pieces of my culture. It is reclamation, preservation and metaphor. It is survivor's guilt, loss and compounding generational trauma. It is the universal human experience of discovering and embracing your truest self, against all odds."

~~~

In a blink, Aradia was stretched out in repose on the sofa, gazing up into the sky, feeling a wave of peace and contentment wash over and around her. She was The Mother, but she was also HERSELF.

In that moment her anger and sorrow had at last left her.

She was with her first born, dancing in joyous reunion just as much as she was lying on the couch: the same, yet separate. She took a few breaths and sat up, looking about, reorienting. “Thank you Lupus.”

The shadow on the ground stirred; “Of course, my Queen.” Lupus materialized out of the shade just then – extending his front legs, spreading his toes and yawning long and deep in that uniquely satisfying, full-bodied way of all canines. From Aradia's vantage point, Lupus yawned so wide that when open, his lower jaw seemed to touch the ground, while his upper reached the sky, connecting the two.

“It had been a long time since I danced like that.” she said with a smirk.

She stood up and walked towards the great wolf, this time leaving only the slightest impressions in the grass. Behind her, the chaise lounge creaked, groaned and fragmented into tangled, thorny stems that reached up from a wide, knotted base dug deep into the dirt. The plush velvet cushions and coverings burst into a glorious bloom of blood red roses and deep green leaves, returning it once more to the land.

She padded over to where Lupus was laying, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. “You’re very soft, Lupus.” She said affectionately. The great wolf’s ears pricked up.

“Excuse me?” he asked bemused.

“You,” she said, running her fingers through his dense fur, “...are wonderfully soft.” She climbed up onto his back, sprawled out flat, and sighed. “Do I really have to go back?” Lupus looked over his shoulder, surprised by his Queen’s offhand remark. “I mean, I know I do but – really?”

Lupus cleared his throat; “Forgive me for asking, your Majesty, but are you… d-drunk?” Aradia burst out laughing. It was a loud, uninhibited, body-shaking laughter, punctuated by what felt like her making a ‘snow angel’ on his back.

This concerned the wolf.

“I wasn’t drinking!” she finally exclaimed. “I did, however,” she said after a moment, “enjoy a nice fairy cake from my very thoughtful daughter.” Lupus Rolled his eyes, understanding.

“Of everything that exists in existence, YOU… above all… should know better than to accept a ‘fairy cake’ from a fairy.” Aradia waved her hand at the empty air in front of her.

“Pfft. Don’t be such a drip, Lupus.” she said with a chuckle, “It was a small thing, and it made her so happy. Besides,” she said through a grin, “who do you think taught her how to make them in the first place?” She repositioned herself, leaned forward and looked the wolf god – upside down – in the eyes. “It’ll pass in a moment. I just wanted a taste of some uncomplicated bliss before continuing on. You should try it sometime, sweetie.” She kissed the top of his muzzle. “It’ll be good for you.” Lupus snorted, trying not to laugh. “Ok, she said. Maybe later.” She sat up straight, cleared her head and patted his side. “Shall we?” With a nod, Lupus trotted on into the woods towards the mountain. It was a short jaunt, having nearly arrived when they had first encountered Lotus. Still, the closer they got, the more the mountain seemed to rise, until – as they came upon its base, it had risen so high, that it nearly blotted out the sky. Lupus’ hackles bristoled.

As they got closer and stepped out of the tree line, a massive pair of wrought iron doors came into view. Children of both night and day seemed to wrythe upon it, some in torment, others in pleasure. Across the top in a long dead language was inscribed: ‘To learn the truth, one must first succumb to it.’ Aradia jumped down from Lupus’ back landing soundlessly onto a thick carpet of wild, knee high grass and stepped closer for a better look. In the center of the gate and far beneath the inscription, stood a lone, wood carving of a mighty, battle ready dwarf. It was clad in light leather-looking plating with golden accents, and the sun etched into its chest. This fine rendering had once been painstakingly stained with vibrant colors no doubt intended to intimidate and discourage wayward travelers from getting too close to the gates. Time and countless storms had faded its coloring, and had scarred it with a long crack that traveled down its left side from shoulder to hip. None-the-less, this proud sentinel stood with purpose; its long, red, braided beard resting proudly against its barrel chest. The eyes were deep set and hard to see. Its strong, squat hands were laced over the handle of an iron war axe; its facade covered in splashes of rust.

“The shadowlands are just beyond that gate,” announced Lupus. He lowered his head and whispered into Aradia’s ear; “Dramatic, isn’t it?” This made her giggle.

“Very.” she whispered back. The two continued forward until they noticed the Dwarf turn in their direction, making them both stop. They backed up a few paces, and watched the carving return to its original position. “You saw that, too, right?” she whispered. Lupus squinted at the figure.

“It’s bewitched,” he said matter-of-factly. “One of yours?”

Aradia shook her head. “No, that’s something my other half would have done.” She shook her head. “Poor thing.”

Lupus’ brows popped up, “Tagni?!”

Aradia shrugged, “If you like.” She raised her hand, and waved; “HELLO OVER THERE!” The guard did not react. She took a few steps forward. To her delight, as she approached, so too did the dwarf. It creaked forward, roots ripping out of the ground only to re-root with each advancing stride. It carefully matched her steps, quickly closing the distance between them. Aradia stopped. So did the carving. She stepped left and the dwarf mirrored her. Aradia tried a little dance move: a short hop and spin. The dwarf merely observed. “HA!” she exclaimed, “Gotcha!” she pointed at the carving, chuckled, and continued walking towards the gate. As she did, the figure lifted its weapon, ready to defend its post. It only got a few paces in however, when it abruptly stopped in its tracks, and froze. The carving’s mouth hung agape in a nearly comical expression of surprise.

“Mother!” it exclaimed, “You've come.'' Its voice was the sound of trees groaning against a hurricane.

It dropped its axe and fell to its knees, bowing low, its forehead touching the grass. “Forgive me! I did not recognise you.”

Aradia walked up to the dwarf statue, a warmth filling her heart and knelt down in front of it; “I have come to speak with Dis. Will you grant me passage?” The dwarf, lifting its head, but still averting its eyes, said; “Of course, my goddess.”

It shuffled up onto its knees and spoke at the ground, its hands clasped at its heart; “Respectfully your majesty, I must first ask for one of your garments before you may pass.”

Aradia cocked her head to one side, amused. “Oh, DO you now?” She grinned. It slowly nodded, taking on a more serious tone; “Yes ma'am, because ‘nothing may be received except that something be given in return.’" Aradia’s smile widened, charmed by the creature’s humble awkwardness, and intrigued that she did not know it. “What is your name, guardsman?”

The dwarf lowered its head and in a sad, quiet voice said, “I-I have none.” Aradia thought for a moment, reached out and lifted its chin, so that she might see its face. Not a wood fairy, she thought, not a cursed flesh and bone man… Just a bewitched piece of wood trapped in eternal servitude. Lines of long dried sap had run from its eyes and had collected on its beard. Touched, she placed her hand on the side of its face.

“You’re in pain.” She noted.

The guardsman pulled away, looking down. “I-it’s nothing.”

“May I help you?” She asked gently.

The guard looked back, fresh sap running slowly over its cheeks. “You would help me?” Aradia smiled compassionately, and pressed her forehead to its. The dwarf leaned in and opened its mind to her. In an instant, she knew; it was placed here by Dis more than an age ago – a bewitched stump, carved into the likeness of its predecessor, forever bound to its post. In the millenia that had rolled past, it had weathered much, alone. Here it remained, rooted in its position, guarding the only entrance to the shadowlands.

The shadowlands are where the souls of her children – those born of her and her other half, the light – go to rest before being reborn. Many have called it Heaven, Nirvana, Valhalla.

She felt its fears, its longing – its deepest desires. “Well,” she said, sitting back on her heels, “what shall I call you, then? ‘Guardsman’ seems too formal.”

The dwarf replied quietly; “You are the Mother, you may call me what you like.”

She leaned forward and kissed its brow murmuring; “From stars you were born, and unto stars you shall return.” In an instant, life had flowed into the carving, and by the time the guardsman knew what was happening, he was flesh, blood and bone – taking in his first breath.

He stood frozen, drawing a few more breaths – in and out. He lifted a leg and carefully set it back down. He pressed his fingers into his cheeks. He stuck out his tongue, and patted his chest. Then he abruptly turned and ran for all he was worth back to the gate, slapped it, and then ran all the way back, whooping and cartwheeling. Aradia clapped and cheered him on. The guardsman, overjoyed, rushed right up and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, spinning her around. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!”

Aradia laughed, swept up in his joy and hugged him back; “Welcomewelcomewelcome!!”

The guardsman, catching himself, pulled his arms back and took a few steps away from her, averting his eyes, nervously wringing his hands. “Forgive me Mother! I lost myself, I… I…”

Aradia took his hands in hers; “Hush now, chav. You have nothing to apologize for.” He recomposed himself quickly, while she bent down, gently lifted his head and looked deep into his eyes, which glinted like amber with flecks of gold and crimson. “I can see you are strong and loyal and good. I will call you Menowin.” The dwarfs' eyes brightened, as a thoughtful smile slowly cut through his bearded face.

“Menowin,” he repeated. “You honor me.” He bowed low at the waist.

Aradia curtsied, then removed her sash and presented it to him. “Will this do, beloved?”

Menowin, his cheeks flushed, nodded and reverently gathered up the garment, placing it over his arm, the fairy bells lightly jingling in his trembling hands. He turned on a heel and marched back to his original position at the gate, picking up his axe along the way. He tapped the ground three times with it and took a knee, lowering his head. At that, the writhing bodies pulled open the gates, so that she may enter. Lupus followed closely behind her, the two stopping at the threshold. Aradia turned to Menowin and smiled. He looked up at her, then at the gate. He had never seen it open before. “Uhm, Mother?”

“Yes?” she asked.

“What would you have me do now? I mean… what do I do?” Menowin shifted from one foot to the other.

Aradia looked thoughtfully at Menowin. “You’ve had ages to think about it, what do you want to do?” The dwarf tapped his foot, absently stroking his beard. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she asked. He nodded. “How’s this;” she began, “You’re alive. You’re FREE. You can do anything, go anywhere.” She filled his mind with possibilities, reminded him of his dreams. “Whatever path you choose, whatever you decide to do with your life, just remember to do it from a place of love and kindness. And know that I am always with you, if you need me.” Menowin smiled big at that.

She then turned to Lupus whose head was hanging low. “I cannot go with you, my Queen,” he said, “for all must face death alone.”

She walked up to the great wolf and kissed him on the nose. “I know. Hey,” she said, feeling his grief, “I’m not leaving you ok? Remember, I am ‘She Who is Many.’” Lupus looked up with sad eyes. “This isn’t like last time, I promise.”

Lupus turned his head to one side “You’re sending the human part of you back, aren’t you?”

The Mother grinned wide. “I will send a part of me with her, yes. She has a destiny I need her to fulfill, whereas I have much to do here; in all the realms. And I will need you at my side.”

Lupus’ tail started to wag. He then reached forward, and nipped her shoulder, leaving his mark. A trickle of liquid starlight ran down the front of her. “I have marked you… the humanish you. When I am needed, call my name, and I will be at your side, as fast as thought.”

Aradia embraced the wolf again; “Look after Menowin. He’ll need some guidance. And Lupus?”

He raised his head; “Yes your majesty?”

“Go roll around in the grass.” She straightened up, squared her shoulders, turned, and walked forward through the gates, careful not to look back as they closed behind her, lest she succumb to remorse. 

 ...