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Meridian was cleaning blood from the altar. Behind her, she could hear Krafstar talking to the new recruits.
“In that moment, when I saw that man making an offering to Zeus and Hera, I realized - this man, the warlord who destroyed my village, he worships the same gods that I do. And what do those gods offer him, or me? A world of order, harmony, everything in its place, where Ares is balanced out by Athena, Apollo by Dionysus, Zeus by Hades. That man would kill my wife and then go home to his own, a cooked meal on the hearth, children running to greet him, and that’s the world of the Olympians, of the gods of all the other peoples. But is that our world, is that the world we want?”
Meri heard him lower his voice at this point, as he always did, forcing the acolytes to lean in, listen more closely. She smiled at the familiarity of it as she wrung out her rag.
“A world where power must always be checked, where the truth of destruction is contained until it approaches triviality; a world in which even a warlord bends his knee to a goddess of marriage. It’s not the one I want. I saw then that if I killed him, head bowed at the altar where I used to worship, I would accomplish nothing. I’d only be making myself another helpless character within their endless cycles of revenge and reconciliation; they’d persecute me for my blasphemy until I too was prostrating myself at the feet of their statues.”
The stone was clear of stains by then, and she began drying it with a worn scrap of wool, soft enough to help the marble retain its shine. For a moment, unwatched as the group listened to Krafstar, she ran her hands over the surface of the stone, and Meri felt the blood rush to her head. It would not be long now; months, perhaps, not years.
“But the truth was, there was something more. There he was for me, in my moment of despair, offering another possibility, and that possibility was my salvation. I offer it to you now: let’s break the cycle altogether, shatter the gods’ little game of harmony, follow the power of the will. This is the promise of the One God. This is the work into which you are invited.”
Finished with the altar, Meridian stood and went to join him. It was important that the new acolytes see the two of them together as much as possible, especially now, when winning swift adherence to their purpose was so vital and they must ensure that orders be respected from either of their mouths.
“Kraftstar speaks true,” she said, as she came to his side, “so it was for me too; the One comes to us always when we are most in despair, and always offers that promise which will lift us out of it. I hope you will hear his voice one day too,” she offered her warmest smile to them each in turn, “and all of you will, if our purpose is accomplished.”
“Some of you were raised worshipping the Greek gods, as I was,” Krafstar continued, “others, the gods of the druids, or of the Egyptians or the Sumerians. No matter which; all of them have failed us. They’ve left us to famine, plague, war, misfortune, for the sake of their pretty design of balance and symmetry. And by the will of the One God, by the will of us together, all of them will fall.”
-
Most members of the cult slept in a single shared room but the two of them, as the highest ranking among the priests, had claimed a small chamber behind the main vestibule as their own; they needed the privacy, often, to strategize. It also allowed them space for intimacy outside of the orgiastic group rituals in which they both participated, space where it was only the two of them and their god.
Sometimes, they would invite Dahak to possess them in those moments, and more often than not he would accept the invitation, his presence taking over each of them in turn while the other offered up their body in pleasure and sacrifice. Meri could imagine nothing more ecstatic than that, feeling the ozonic pressure in the air that signaled his arrival as her pleasure built. She would watch Krafstar’s eyes go dark as he was inside of her, hear the tenor of his voice change, the movements of his hands shift, become more erratic and unpredictable. And then, only minutes later, her own control, her consciousness, would begin to slip away as the god crept into her soul. She’d feel something shift inside her, almost imperceptible, the act of welcoming him in, making room inside herself for a being stronger than herself. She’d think, in those final moments when she could before the the lightning-sudden darkness came, that there was something so tender, so intimate, about offering herself as a vessel to the god in this way, knowing that, as infinite as his power was, in this one way, for now, he was dependent on her for his inhabitation of the world. Not for long, she thought, while lucidity remained to her, not for long if we have our way, not for long if my life is worth anything.
She came to herself again: blood drying beneath her nails and Krafstar gasping beneath her, the room smelling of sweat and smoke. Regret and relief that it was over, both at once stale in her mouth. It was never enough; it was always too much.
-
They walked along the rocks at the water’s edge; the sky was gray and the air heavy with impending rain. The wind blew sea-spray into Meri’s face and tangled her curls. It was their last day before Krafstar arranged to have himself captured by the Romans and taken south.
He stopped walking, and put a hand on the middle of her back. “Meridian, are you frightened?”
She almost lied and told him no, but he deserved truth from her. “Of course I am. There are so many turns in the plan, so many unknowns where we just have to hope that no other god manages to contravene his will. And then, if we -”
“If we succeed.” He turned to look at the water, and Meridian’s gaze followed his. A ship perhaps, only just becoming visible.
“If I wasn’t scared,” she said, voice soft, “it wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”
“You are the best of us,” he said, and, though the words were not unfamiliar, they still made something spark inside of her, “you know that, don’t you? None of us have faith as pure as yours.”
Tears started in her eyes, though perhaps it was only the wind. “I want it so badly, sometimes,” she told him, “I dream about myself on the altar, about the moment the knife comes down, the glory of his entrance into the world. And sometimes…”
“Sometimes you wish this fate had fallen on another.”
Though she knew he didn’t mean it as accusation, she felt the rebuke from her own heart. “I don’t think anyone human could deny that wish. I believe, I know that this world is nothing compared to the one that he will make visible, and I will be a part of that, I trust it, but it’s so much to lose - the smell of the sea, and flatbread with olives in the morning, and - and you, Krafstar. I’ll give it all up, I will, you need not doubt me, but of course I feel it.”
He nodded. “I’m frightened too,” he said, suddenly.
Meridian kept quiet, waited for him to continue.
“He says I’ll come into my true form when the ritual is completed, be the Deliverer in truth. Meri, I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what I will be when it’s over. I know whatever it is will be right and true, will be an…an exaltation. But I do like being Krafstar, this name he gave me. I like being clever, and fair-faced, and persuasive; he told me it was a word for little creeping hidden things that do his will, and I’ve always liked that, thought of myself like a pretty gleaming scorpion that draws people in.”
Meridian laughed. “You never told me that before. It’s a good name for you.”
“He says it’s been my name for millennia, not that I remember. But I think the Deliverer will be something far grander, far more monstrous, more majestical. And I’m not sure I’ll be myself any longer.”
Meridian almost teased him that he was afraid of losing his good looks, but this was not the moment for that. “You’ll be yourself,” she said firmly, “anything burnt away by his flames of destruction was never real to begin with. And in that new world, I think we will find one another again.”
He took her hand, and for a few moments they stood in the wind and the silence. Then she spoke again. “You know, I do envy the girl sometimes, though.”
Krafstar almost laughed. “You do?”
“Of course I do! She’ll bear his child, Krafstar; she’ll experience his presence within her as you and I never will. I would kill for that honor, easily I would.”
“Well. She is going to kill for it.”
At that Meridian did laugh, and then he began laughing too, and they found they couldn’t stop, until they could hardly breathe and there was a sharp pain in Meri’s side. They held one another until the last burst of laughter was extinguished, and then Meridian spoke again. “Truly, though. I feel proprietary about that child somehow, as if it were my own. I’ve thought about it so much, imagined what it might be like, worked so hard to bring it into the world.”
Krafstar’s voice was serious then, despite their brief and recent fit of hilarity. “It will be your child as much as the girl’s, born of your sacrifice. And I promise you, Meridian - though I don’t know what I will become at the end of this, I know whatever thing I am will cherish that child, for your sake and for Dahak’s. Your legacy in its birth will not be forgotten.”
“Thank you,” she said, and for a moment that was all she had to say. And then: “Krafstar, I know we’ve rehearsed it, as much as we can, given the…unpredictable elements. And I know it might not work out this way, so many things could go differently, the way she reacts, but - if we can, I’d like to look into your eyes when she does it. I want your face to be the last thing I see.”
-
She woke early that morning, and bathed herself alone in the river by Bodecia’s camp, combed myrrh-scented oil into her wet hair. She dressed in the pale blue linen robe she had kept ready for this day which felt light and clean against her skin, wound the golden cord around her waist, over and under, again and again. There were birds singing in the trees.
Krafstar came to her; she kissed him, and they stood in silence together. Nothing more to say. To create a new world, the old world must be destroyed. They knew, they had always known. They were ready.