Demonic Enchantment

From atop the buildings, I stand surveying this new strange city that my chase has led me to, the City of Angels. I can’t help but compare this majestic city with the tiny burgh where this pursuit began. Even after all these centuries, the sight of too-crowded streets gives me pause, making me uncomfortable. Knowing that the witch is somewhere below, I can feel that the conclusion of this endless hunt is near at hand.

I descend the side of the building, propelling down to the alley below, knowing that I should find a place to sleep for the night, but too wound tight with anticipation to settle down just yet. Instead, I pull my hood up, tighten my cloak about myself, and head deeper into La La Land– a fitting name for a town that will be the epilogue of two near-immortal lives. Not bothering to wait for the signal at the crossroads, I cross with the moving vehicle traffic, knowing that my curse, my oath, will protect me.

I stare into each face I meet, wondering if she’s had the time to find a new body to inhabit. Even if she does, I am confident I would know her no matter who she resides, after all these years. Her evil leaves a tell-tale mark on a person’s entire being, recognizable for one skilled in the hunt.

Coming to a square where artists have set up, displaying their canvases and playing their instruments, I’m reminded of a simpler time. A time before my oath, before this chase began when I still knew the warmth of home and hearth. Before the enchantress took from me all that I loved and held dear.

With such a long life, you’d think my memories would fade together, blending into one. This was not my blessing. Instead, I was cursed in the remembrance in vivid detail of the faces and names of everyone I had ever loved and who had ever had a fondness for me. I had a permanent vacancy in my heart whose pain I had become accustomed to over the last two millennia.

Why the demoness chose me to torment all those years ago upon the banks of the Tain, I do not know. She appeared one day, disguised as a friend and ally, and enchanted my whole clan into believing she was an Aingeal bàn. Her lyrical voice had charmed even my betroth to his demise as if she was a siren luring sailors to rocky shores. The beauty in the form she had chosen all those summers ago had caused my Athair to forget his vows from when he wed my Màthair before the Morrigan’s priest. She turned the men completely against each other, whispering her demonic venom into their ears between her false adorations.

She had not stopped there. For some reason, she set out to destroy my entire clan, poisoning those who did not take their own lives. My poor dear Màthair’s throat was cut while her maidservant had gone for the midwife, killing her and the wee bairn before it was even born. My sister, Mathilda, such a sweet lass, was found with her bellrope tied around her neck, hanging from the windowsill of her room, her face bloated and purplish-black. My brother, Liam, and my betrothed, Ian, were both found floating in the river, even though both could swim just as well as any selkie.

So many of my loved ones that this sorceress murdered. I had been incensed. I had stood under the full moon, with my one-time friend standing within feet of me, and I swore to her then that by the grace of the Morrigan, I would avenge my family. I would not rest until her blood washed my hands.

She laughed her demonic laugh, stared at me with her coal-black eyes, and smiled at me evilly. Speaking in a language I could not understand, she threw a pouch at me that exploded as soon as it hit my chest, knocking me out completely. When I came to, the witch was gone.

Of course, I didn’t know what I know now. The enchantress could jump from body to body, leaving her disguises with careless abandon. She left a trail of dead bodies behind her, not just the ones she possessed, though, because her magic was the kind that caused plagues and wars.

So, as I walked the city streets of Las Angeles, I looked for my nemesis. I sensed that she was close to me, and it was just a matter of time before I recognized her. By the grace of the Morrigan, it was time to fulfill my vow.