On the Alter of Adali
an excerpt

On the Alter of Adali

The heavens ruled the land of Chutlu. The stars, the moons and the sun all ordained the life of the people. Every aspect of life was printed in the firmament, from the time to plant the crops to what destiny a child would have. The sun and the mother moon dictated to the lives of the ordinary people, never fully sharing their secrets with the mere mortals.
Sitting high in the morning sky was Arunchel, the great Sun God. He ruled over the heavens as the high king. The manly mysteries were his domain. At his side, ruler of the night skies, was his wife Adali. Symbolized by the mother moon, she was the goddess of wisdom. Trailing behind her in the sky was their daughter, the ever pale Pohina.
To each birth of the people of Chutlu, they gave a sign to ordain their destiny. All mothers wanted their children to be born under the right sign, even going as far as asking the midwives to induce or stop labor until the proper moment.
The night that Dhesmona was born was called the Night of Signs. The priests of the Moon Goddess Adali watched the heavens in awe as the mother moon turned red and stars shot from the sky. Dhesmona drew her first breath as the firmament blazed. Her mother cried as she saw what she had brought forth.
“My child is cursed!”
The new mother wrapped her arms around her body, refusing to touch the squealing babe. She was a poor entertainer, a dancer who traveled the land. She had no money to seek out the priests to cleanse her child or herself. Looking at what was in the swaddled blanket, she fought back fresh sobs.
“The child is not cursed,” the midwife explained. She pushed the baby towards the mother once more. “Listen to her cry. She is healthy. Surely these signs mean that the babe has a wonderous destiny.”
“You are no priest,” the mother shot back. “Look at her! How can you tell me that this creature should live!”
The midwife looked down at the newborn. “We can stop by a temple on our way to Momus. There is a temple of Arunchel, the great Sun God, just a day's journey from here. You'll see. This girl is blessed by Adali. Her very domain wept with joy at her birth!”
“The heavens cried tears of shame!”
The midwife held the child close to her breast. “If that is how you feel, then I will take the babe myself. It is a shameful thing for a mother to turn her back on her own child.”
“And if you gave birth to that, would you keep it,” the mother sneered. At the midwife's hesitation, she spat. “I thought so.”
Ashamed, the midwife turned and walked out of the small wagon that had served for the birthing room. All around them on the outside were the worried members of the dancing troupe. The father ran up, eager to see his new child.
“Let me see my baby. Was it a son? What did the signs mean?”
The midwife clutched the child closer. “We do not know what the signs mean. I have suggested taking the child to the temple of Arunchel.”
“That's a day out of our way. We're on a tight schedule to make it to Momus before the wedding of Prince Kev,” the father said. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What is wrong with my baby?”
Reluctently, she held the bundled prize out the man. Slowly, with caution, he pulled back the blanket to reveal the child. He gasped and jumped back. If he had been holding the baby, it would have dropped to the ground. Luckily, the midwife hadn't loosened her grip.
“What is that!”
“That is your daughter,” the midwife said calmly. She pushed past the stunned man. “If you can't stop at the temple of Arunchel, then I will. I am sure the signs for this child are good and not ill.”
“That creature should be destroyed! It looks like the Ketsucabra!” The father stormed after the midwife. At the mention of the blood-sucking corpses of the night, the other members of the troupe quickly scurried back.
Angered, the midwife turned to the father. “As I told your wife, Adali wept with joy at the birth of your daughter. When was the last time the heavens opened up? She is blessed.”
“She is cursed! We should kill her now!”
“No! Adali's daughter was like her, pale as the moon. This girl must be blessed by Adali. You'll see when the priests of Arunchel announce this very thing.”
The father reached out and tried to grab the swaddled babe. “Give it to me. No one wants a corpse for a child.”
The midwife clutched the child to her breast. The more she looked at the babe, the more the strange child grew on her and she would not allow anyone to harm this child. With an almost feverish insanity, she glared down the father.
“This child is not a corpse. Listen to her cry. Corpses don't cry.”
“Give it to me!”
The midwife turned and ran for her wagon, but the father anticipated such a move. He reached out and grabbed the midwife by her shirt, causing her to stumble. She cried out as the baby tumbled from her grasp. The swaddling cloths helped protect the child from the fall and the babe screamed into the night.
The father held the midwife down. He knew that if she got up, she'd help the abomination. He couldn't have that.
“Let me go! You have no right to do this!”
“I have every right,” the father snarled. “It is the father's right to destroy the abomination and any who stand in his way.”
He wrapped his hands around the midwife's throat and squeezed. She lashed out, trying to fight him, clawing at his face.
“Take comfort knowing that the creature will follow you to the Afterlife,” he spat.
A loud scream cut through the night, causing him to pause. The troupe, who had been watching in horrified fascination, froze as the scream rang out again. Sounds of snarls and laughter drifted into the caravan from the surrounding forest.
“I don't like the sound of that,” one man said. “Come on, leave the midwife and the babe and let's go.”
“What is it,” a woman asked, her voice quivering. “Jaguar? Monkey?”
“No,” the father whispered. “Ketsucabra.”
As if summoned, dark shapes stepped from the inky blackness and into the light. The Ketsucabra, the children of the darkest night and bane of the gods, were living corpses. Blood suckers who raised from their graves with an unnatural appetite for the living. Bodies in varius stages of decay staggered forward, their eyes alight with demon's fire.
For a moment, everyone froze as the Ketsucabra appeared. Both groups sized each other up, the predator and the prey. Slowly, the father got off the midwife, not wanting to be on the ground when the attack came.
The midwife coughed and sucked in the sweet air. She crawled along the ground and tucked the squealing baby under her body. Around her, the night air exploded in screams as the Ketsucabra launched their attack. The troupe ran, trying to escape the carnivorious demons.
The midwife tried to crawl away, but she screamed as claws raked down her back. Looking up, she could see the blood-stained teeth of a Ketsucabra, the rotting flesh that sloshed off its face as the creature snarled. The foul stench caused the midwife to gag.
She managed to curse the demon to the pits of Arunchel's fires before it clawed at her face. In pain, she curled up around the baby, protecting it. With each attack, she screamed until she had no life left. The last thing she saw was not darkness, but a brilliant white light.

The temple of Arunchel cast its shadow on the gardens of Bala Mes. It gave the priests and Maidens a sense of comfort to live so close to the Seat of the Gods. From the gardens, Dhesmona could watch the fires from the festivals burn on the feast days, or hear the drums during the rituals. She had never been outside of the gardens, kept a secret by the Maidens who raised her.
She was “bad luck”. That was what her name meant, that was what her destiny foretold. She was bad luck from the day she was born, found under the corpse of a midwife amid the carnage of a Ketsucabra attack. How she survived was unknown, and the Hunters did not concern themselves with one strange child. They brought her to the Maidens and washed their hands of her.
Her very appearance was strange. She stood out from the others of the land. Everyone was shorter in stature, their skin a healthy dark bronze with straight black hair. Dark eyes showed their wisdome, laughter and life. Not so with Dhesmona. Her skin was pale white, bloodless. Pale pink eyes that stared into the souls of those around her, pushing everyone away from her. Even her hair was pale. She was like a ghost in the daylight.
Her unattractive appearance caused her to never leave the gardens. She had tried to join the Maidens, to devote her life to Arunchel. They would not have her, would not want a child who caused death with her first breath. Now that she was a woman, she was told to marry or leave Bala Mes.
No man wanted her. She had no where to go, no place to call home. With no husband, no knowledge of the outside world, she felt as if she had only one option. She threw herself on the mercy of a priest who had been like a father to her, begging him to let her work for him. He had been the priest who allowed her to stay as a baby when the other priests and Maidens wanted to destroy her.
“Please, Father Calchas, I can't leave here,” Dhesmona pleaded. “I have never left Bala Mes a day in my life. I don't know anything of the world beyond the garden gates. I have no skills.”
“Not true,” Calchas said. “You can cook, clean and know how to weave.”
Dhesmona knelt by his chair, placing her hands on the arm rests as she gazed imploringly into his dark eyes. “I'll die out there. You're the only one who ever understood me. Please, let me stay.”
Calchas sighed, looking at the girl he had known for the past eighteen years. “Very well, you may stay and work for me. I could use a personal servant.”
Dhesmona smiled, showing off her sharp teeth. For Calchas, she cooked and cleaned. She stayed hidden from his guests, allowed to wear a head scarf to cover as much of her unnatural looks as she could. From her newly coveted positon as his servant, Dhesmona got to see the riches of the land when the princes and the king visited the temple of Arunchel. She knew she would never be part of that world, the glittering world that lay beyond the garden gates, but she could watch it. And she could dream.
One day, while she sat behind the loom, making a new robe for Calchas, she received the most exciting news. Not to her ears directly. No one talked to her if they could help it. She heard through the window as some of the other servants gossiped.
“Prince Tane is coming here!”
Dhesmona's heart skipped a beat. Prince Tane was the seventh son of the king and a renouned Hunter of the Ketsucabra. He had been born favored by Adali and Arunchel, drawing his first breath when the sun and the moon both occupied the morning sky. He was famous for not only his beauty, but for his vow to never marry until he killed every last Ketsucabra.
“Why would he come here? The royal city is in Momus.”
“I heard he is finally looking for a wife.”
There was laughter among the servants and Dhesmona pictured them laughing at the whistful sound of the one girl's voice. It was well known that Prince Tane's vow of celebacy only extended as far as marriage was concerned. He kept a modest harem, but allowed them to not become pregnant. It was said that his harem had to take the same chaste lifestyle, especially after he had one concubine stoned for hidding her pregnancy.
“That's not why he's coming here,” a strong voice cut in. Dhesmona jerked and hastily went back to her weaving at the sound of Calchas' voice. “He is here because of our Ketsucabra problem. Only that, an nothing more.”