9. ITALIA 1st Century CE
POMPEII
A tense stillness hung in the air between the witch-goddess, Hecate, and the Romani witch, as they stood beneath the looming shadow of an angry Mount Vesuvius.
“What are you saying?!” the Romani witch exclaimed, stepping back from the witch-goddess and the absurd claim she had just made about him and Aeneas’ destiny.
“Aeneas’ soul is destined to experience countless mortal lives—yours is not,” Hecate replied coolly.
“Upon your demise, you shall travel to the Elysian Fields, the Celestial Realm, Nirvana, or the Kingdom of Heaven, for there are many names for that place beyond death.
Your soul, witch-boy, shall never be reborn to mortality.
As far as my divine vision can see, that is your fate, your reward for a life lived with honour and goodness.
“Though The Fates no longer have any reason to interfere with your threads, it seems that enigmatic force, the Wheel of Destiny, ultimately has different paths planned for the souls of the two young lovers named Aeneas and—”
“No!” the Romani witch shouted, cutting the witch-goddess off, an action that did not sit well with her. “Never!”
“I present you with this gift of foresight, meant to serve as a cautionary beacon for your future path, and you dare to take such a tone with me, mortal!”
The Romani witch, fueled by the energy that Hecate had granted him to rejuvenate his tired body, had not intended to express such aggression in his outrage and disbelief. However, he felt deeply wounded by this unexpected and unwelcome news.
“I meant no challenge to you, witch-goddess. Forgive me, for I allowed my renewed constitution to fuel my shock and disbelief. I have relented to The Fates, but I shall not submit to the Wheel of Destiny any more than I would submit to a broken wheel on a farmer’s cart.
“How do I rectify this, great Hecate? To never see my beloved again, to be eternally without him, his touch, his love, is an unthinkable damnation. Worse than an eternity in the underworld with the memory of what I have lost. No, I would rather be forever unmade by the gods and returned to clay, my soul sent back to the fire of creation and burnt to ash. Less, to nothingness.”
The witch-goddess gazed deeply into the Romani witch’s dark, expressive eyes—and then peered further, seeing past the windows of mortality on through to his very spirit.
There, she discovered the answer to the question she had posed earlier.
His cause was just; his love for Aeneas, transcendent and incorruptible.
Theirs was not a love fated to be by the gods or the enigmatic Wheel of Destiny, but the purest love between two beings, mortal or immortal, that Hecate had seen in centuries.
A true love . The majestic power of love, in all its grandeur and intensity, transformed their bond into something truly extraordinary, elevating their connection to a level not dissimilar from one fated. It was a rare occurrence.
It was a passion, a devotion, a bond that deserved her aid to remain safe and thriving.
Hecate understood there would be a significant cost to the young Romani witch for rebelling against the Wheel of Destiny.
Powerful sorcery would be required to achieve such a grand miracle as this, something far trickier than merely assisting a volatile mountain in its inevitable eruption, one destined to occur even without the aid of a grieving witch-boy’s ultimately ineffectual spellcraft.
Yes, the toll taken would be exceptionally high, a price the mortal witch would have to pay alone
“You called out for assistance with one task and chose wisely to abandon it.
However, I believe you are correct and that your cause is just, not driven solely by self-serving revenge.
It is for the survival of a love so beautiful that it deserves to transcend death.
As you know, there will be a cost. Attend my words closely, witch-boy.
“The actions we cultivate throughout our lives, our choices, sow the seeds of our future experiences.
Every thought, word, and deed contributes to the tapestry of our existence.
This intricate weave is what a faraway culture, where I am called Dhumavati, has named karma .
It is magic but also beyond magic; it forms from the heart of the Well of Souls!
“This power defies The Fates and their threads because it takes away their control to manipulate lives, to weave and to cut.
Mortals, even the gods, may ultimately shape the future or futures of their reality themselves through the Karmic Cycle .
It is more than reincarnation, for it is genuine rebirth based on past choices, the actions of your hands, your thoughts, and most importantly, your heart. It is true individualism.
“This spiritual power is not cultivated in these lands due to the interference of the Olympians, who do not understand it and fear its greatness and potential influence over their followers.
“Now, the price for you, my young witch-boy, to join with your karma, as my third eye of my third face sees, is one of chance.”
“Chance? I do not understand, witch-goddess. Can you not make it so I may be reborn alongside Aeneas? Moving from one karmic life, as you say, to the next with him?”
The Romani witch stood stiffly, a weighty despair washing over him like a cold, relentless tide.
The growing misery pierced his heart, a reminder of his mortal limitations, witchborn or not, as he grappled with the daunting realization that he lacked the power to challenge the inexorable forces of Fate and Destiny directly.
He felt as though invisible chains constrained him, restricting his every move.
In that moment of desolation, he clung to the slender thread of hope that remained available to him: Hecate, the enigmatic goddess of witchcraft. Her dark wisdom and arcane strength were his only salvation.
“Yes, I can do that,” the witch-goddess stated emphatically, “but the price is that your beloved Aeneas shall never remember his past lives.
In the spirit realm, you shall both remember everything, indulge in all memories, in every sensation attached to them, but these moments will be fleeting, before you begin a new life.
And when he reincarnates, he shall be born anew, with only his soul never changing.
“But you, witch-boy, upon your sixteenth year of mortal life, will come to remember everything that happened before, in all your lives.”
“No, that cannot be! To so easily forget me?”
“There is more, my young witch, as that alone is not enough to achieve perfect balance and satisfy a spurned destiny. You must also never reveal Aeneas’ past to him; doing so will drive him to madness.
The memories of his previous lives, along with the intense emotions and physical sensations associated with those experiences, will overwhelm his mind.
“His reason will refuse to comprehend that these memories are part of his former incarnations, ultimately breaking his sanity. And death will immediately follow, ending that cycle of Aeneas’ reincarnated life.
And you will be left alone in the mortal world until your death by natural or other means.
“Aeneas’ waking mind will never accept his past incarnations. You must understand, witch-boy, this is immutable. Yes, he will always be Aeneas in heart and soul, but he will be a new man in every lifetime.
“In all his new lives, he may or may not have a connection to nature and the power of The Craft, but your Romani heritage runs deep, witch-boy, and your familial blood is potent, strengthening your bond with Gaia—or Terra, as you know the Great Mother.
And through your witchcraft and your blood, you are always connected to me.
Your magic will follow you through the Karmic Cycle, guiding your journey and protecting you. Use it wisely.
“I will work the magic to return you and Aeneas to this realm of flesh and blood in bodies resembling those you now possess. I shall even make it so your beloved always bears red locks.
“In exchange for this gift, to keep the balance, you will always return from death to the mortal realm here, in the country of your original birth.
You must seek Aeneas out; he will never look for you, wherever he is, for his place of reincarnation is left to chance.
Still, your connection to each other will be there when or if you encounter him.
I promise this, for your souls will always recognize one another—sooner or later.
“Regardless of this affinity, you must still win his love over and over again. Although I am sure it feels like it, the two of you, being together, are not a fated match, but rather bonded by luck, chance, and the power of choice, and this difference will create a challenge. I cannot guarantee that you will always find him. Gaia’s body is vast, and the responsibility lies with you, always. That is your karmic journey.
“Your love for Aeneas must be worth the possibility of an endless search through the ages just to be together for one mortal lifetime, and then be forced to begin the search all over again in the next life.
To defy the Wheel of Destiny, witch-boy, and entrench you in the Karmic Cycle is to tamper with forces of immense power and consequence.
The scales must inevitably balance, and the cost must also be substantial for something of such great significance.
“I am Hecate, ‘she who works her will,’ and I stand ready to fulfill your request, but you must be prepared to meet the terms I set forth. It is a price steeped in sacrifice, designed to appease those ancient forces you seek to scorn. Sometimes, what I offer feels less like a gift and more like a curse.”
The Romani witch lowered his weary head, tears streaming down his face and pooling in his calloused hands, still stained by Vesuvius’ dark earth.
The weight of his distress upon his shoulders was gargantuan; yes, this was a steep price for him to pay.
It would require a deep well of courage and unwavering fortitude to bear the burden of endless time, with all its relentless demands and uncertainties.
He would also have to battle the chaotic, often unforgiving nature of chance, perpetually swirling around him and Aeneas like a tempest, threatening to upend their reunion at every turn.
Yet, the Romani witch’s love for Aeneas blazed like an eternal flame, fierce and unyielding; no force of nature, neither time nor death, could ever extinguish its heat and radiance.
He would willingly sacrifice anything, regardless of the cost, to ensure his beloved stayed by his side for all eternity.
It mattered not what lives they would lead, how long they would have together, or what threats might try to obstruct his search.
“Work your magic, great Hecate, for I will endure. My love for Aeneas, his love for me, will break the Wheel. Place me in the Karmic Cycle, and know I carry no hesitation nor fear of the unknown.”
The thrice-faced goddess of witchcraft smiled down at the Romani witch in all her aspects.
“There is no going back once the spell begins, witch-boy. Are you certain of this path before you? Do you truly have no fear of what may transpire in an uncharted destiny? Even a drop of uncertainty in an ocean of possibilities may steer you forever off course, barring you from any reunion each lifetime. And successive failure may ultimately destroy you.”
Cassian, the Romani witch, locked his gaze with the goddess’ mesmerizing, glowing green eyes, which shimmered like emeralds in the moonlight. With unwavering conviction, he declared, “I—have—none. Because I know something in my heart and soul, without a doubt.”
“Yes?” Hecate urged, her voice a silken whisper filled with anticipation as she leaned closer, holding her breath in suspense. She hoped to hear true conviction in the young witch’s voice.
“I will always find him.”