The Witch and Her Ghost

“Release Me.”

The whisper echoed around the room; a masculine sigh full of contempt. The dust that had long ago settled on the piles of books stacked on tables shifted as a breeze that wasn’t natural rushed in circles around the woman sitting at one of these tables. She was hunched over a large leather bound book with tiny lettering and pictures, her nose nearly pressed to page. Her long red hair was piled atop her head, though strands hung loose and brushed the paper while she read, horn-rimmed glasses balancing on the edge of her nose. She looked to be maybe in her late thirties, early forties, but the witch was certainly older than that. Much older.

Her hair shifted as a ghostly hand passed across her face. It didn’t hurt her or even startle her; she was reading and nothing would disturb her. The only thing it had managed to do was make her nose cold. She rolled her eyes.

“Settle yourself Alexandros…or I’ll shove you back in your bottle.” She muttered and continued reading.

“Releasssssse Meeee” The disembodied voice commanded again, this time coming from the chair on the other side of the table. A clay bottle sat on the chair, its cork stopper rested on the chair next to it. The clay was old with ancient Greek style and lettering decorating the sides, but it was immaculate; no cracks or chips. The presence settled over the bottle and moaned again. “Releasssssseee meeee!”

“Stop it, Alex, I am trying to get this spell down so I can do the job for the priest.” She scolded then continued absentmindedly. “In this day and age, priests don’t do their own dirty work anymore. The men of cloth are too busy starting families and such to pick up a cross and do their little exorcisms. I suppose it’s for the best, they were always full of hot air, but I’ll tell you, it’s hard to get a job worth the pay that isn’t associated with a church. No one believes in witches anymore, not really. We’re all just a good story… a fairy tale. The 2000th century will be the death of me, I swear.”

“Good. Maybe then I’ll be free.” The apparition spoke as it began to take shape. It was still a fuzzy form in the dim light of the room, but it was certainly a man. His hair was long and he was bare-chested, wearing only set of cloth pants, but it was hard to tell. There was no color to him, but his features were forming; a long slightly crooked nose, ghostly gray eyes under a strong brow, a very muscular torso. He was very handsome and when he was done taking shape, the woman finally looked up.

“You haven’t taken form in a long time… nearly 50 years I think. What’s the occasion?” She sat back and folded her arms over her chest, taking care not to wrinkle her robe. She watched him with a quizzical look, one she reserved for things she was trying to work out.

The ghost shrugged, matching her stance.” I want to be set free… I want to rest.”

“You rest just fine in that bottle of yours, don’t give me that.” She rolled her eyes at him. “And if you want to rest, why take form? It uses more energy… go back to being a little breeze of contempt and flit around messing things up like you normally do so I can get this done. I want to finish this today.”

She shifted and went back to focusing on her book, his answer obviously not good enough for her.

“I don’t love you anymore.” He stated, watching her read. A muscle twitched in her jaw.

“I know this.”

“Circe… You don’t love me anymore either.”

She looked up and glared at him. “Now that’s a lie.”

“Really?” He tilted his head at her, transparent eyebrow raised. “Would you keep the soul of the one you love in a bottle for centuries? Would you deny your heart’s mate the glory of returning to the Underworld? I belong there with my family, with our son…”

“Silence!” She roared, slamming her fist on the table. The piles of books shook, a few thumping on the floor. They both ignored it, their eyes locked on each other’s in a staring contest, Circe’s fist still clenched. Alexandros didn’t move.

“I am not allowed to talk about our son?” He asked carefully, knowing if she wanted to, she could level the whole place with a sneeze. Over the years the witch had gained more and more power. She could wish him into nonexistence if she wanted, without hardly trying, but he didn’t care anymore. He was no longer afraid of the emptiness true death might bring. After all these centuries, he just wanted it to end. But she wouldn’t let it.

“No.”

“Why not? If you’d had your way, he’d be stuck in a jar like me and we’d all be here, one happy little family; two ghosts and an immortal witch.” He pointed out.

“No.”

“You say that, my love, but you know it’s true. You tried to take his soul back from Hades when he died. You wanted to bring him back from the dead so YOU wouldn’t feel pain anymore.” He stood, towering over her form from the other side of the table. “You wanted to keep him and when that failed, you asked me to seek revenge. I did. I went after the men who murdered him, but they murdered me instead. Little did I know you had put a spell on me that would trap my soul so you wouldn’t lose me too! Now look at me!”

He raised his arms, spreading them wide at the sides. He vibrated with rage, but he stayed together, glaring at the woman who had seemed to forgotten all about the book open in front of her. She glared back but there were tears forming in her eyes. He was hitting a sore spot and he knew it, but that was the point.

“We loved each other, once. We made a life together, had a family together. Even when all that was gone and I was forced to follow you, in the beginning, it wasn’t so bad, because I had you. Because I loved you and I didn’t want you to walk eternity alone… I knew that if I went to the Underworld I would never see you again… because you can’t die. I didn’t want to lose you.”

A single tear rolled down Circe’s cheek, her huge blue eyes stared straight at him, through him. In her mind, the memories of the past played; from the birth and death of her son, the death of her husband, the years and decades then centuries of togetherness. The resentment, the trials, the pain. All of this because she couldn’t let him go. She realized then that he was a constant reminder of the past, because he HAD nothing, but the past. He couldn’t create a new life for himself because he wasn’t living, so he dwelled on what he knew. She knew this, but for a very long time, she had ignored it.

I thought you just wanted to spend eternity driving me crazy.” She chuckled, letting the rest of the tears fall. No use fighting it anymore, it wasn’t going to make them disappear. He smiled and sat down again so he could be on her level. He was getting somewhere and he still cared enough about her to want to speak equally with her.

“It was a start.” He nodded. “But I can’t be here anymore. I want to be done, to see my family, our son. I want to be free… and I want you to be free too. You can’t die to be free, but I can leave and you can start a new life. Maybe find a new man to love, start a new family if you want. You’ve learned the secret to immortality, maybe you can make someone else like you. Maybe there is a fairy tale ending for you after all, but you won’t get it with me hanging around. I am an anchor, holding you in the past. You need life. You need hope. I need to go.”

She was silent, pondering.

“You’re wrong.” She said finally, after a few minutes of thought. “I do still love you… and I think you still love me, though I know you resent me. We never stopped loving each other… but you are right. We need to move on.”

Circe got to her feet and walked carefully around the table to where Alexandros got to his feet. He was vibrating again, out of emotion and excitement, but when she put her arms around him, he became solid. He pulled her close to him, her head resting just below his shoulder. They embraced just as they had when they were alive and married with a six year old son hugging their legs. They embraced as if it was the last time they would ever touch.

“I forgive you, Circe.” He whispered in her hair as he kissed the top of her head. She clenched her eyes shut.

“I love you.” She whispered. Then; “Alexandros, I release you from this world.”

The arms around her, so solid and strong, faded. His presence remained a moment longer than the body that hadn’t been his, just an illusion, but that too faded. She didn’t hear him anymore, she couldn’t feel him anymore, and somehow just knowing he wasn’t in his jar that had been his home since he had died, made the house feel emptier than it ever had.

Slowly, she moved back to sit in her chair and read her book. She had a job to do and a future to create, she might as well get started. She wondered if he was there, in the fields of the underworld, in paradise with their boy. She wondered if it had been worth it, letting him go.

She wondered if she could really face immortality alone.