It Happens by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: fra
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The emotions were overwhelming. The problem of being a hedge witch and sharing such a close bond with the earth is the relativity of strong emotion to an area. People talk about hearing ghosts on battlefields, well; I wouldn’t call them ghosts necessarily, but living memories that exist in the earth where the actions took place. Even as I lost my focus briefly, I sank into these memories. The slaves’ terror as they were herded into narrow confines overwhelmed me. Their distant pleas wailed from the past. This was almost too much, too fresh despite the gulf of years that separated me from the event. The earth measured time in its own manner and for her; these events were only a few heartbeats past. I tried to shove them aside; I couldn’t afford to lose myself now.

I sprinkled salt in a circle around the creature, which had apparently just noticed me and lashed out with one of its arms. I nearly stumbled and fell, but regained my balance. The fairies, as if sensing my need, left me alone to dive at the baka and harass it. Grateful for the distraction, I finished salting the circle around the creature.

Sucking in a deep breath to steel myself, I plunged my mind into the decaying and unhappy earth. I couldn't bear the agonies of those herded into the area, shot to death in their misery; left to rot in the open grave without consecration, mourning or forgiveness and forgotten by time. The earth’s wound was a grievous one, not easily rectified; the fury of it all clogged my throat and choked me.

I felt something slam against me and I knew it was a large clump of earth. My cheek opened up under the onslaught and blood mixed with the dirt. I pushed the pain to the back of my mind and slogged through the mire of despair. Like a boil on the skin, the wound needed to be lanced so that the pain would be relieved.

I drove the spade symbolically into the earth and the baka struck at me again. The salt slowed him down, but did not halt him. I could feel the spade strike into the earth and let it ripple through the murkiness. With a slashing gesture I drew it across the surface, much like the lancing I mentioned earlier. The motion evoked a response from the baka who threw back its head and howled.

The dancers moved around us, singing to the sky, the stars, the land and the spirits. The fresh beat of the drum thrummed in time to my pulse. The old woman whose voice carried a soft harmony whirled to face me. Her eyes were kind, old and knowing. I knew these eyes. They were my grandmother’s eyes and every other wise woman’s before her. She narrowed them upon my face and her lips moved. The sound took a century or more to travel so that I could hear the whisper that passed from her lips.

“Open your

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