Initium (The Start) - Book 1 of ‘The Divine’ Series

3

Christopher - 1988

It was hard to stay focused, driven to be brink of insanity listening to the steady staccato beat of shoes on the cobblestones that lined the street outside. Everyone was going to be in attendance tonight. I had to be on top form. Valkyrie Hall, named after Norse mythology and the local historical links to the Vikings, needed to be spectacular. It needed to live up to its name. Needed to be as grandiose and as extravagant as feasibly possible.

It wasn’t just a party, being hosted by a nobody.

It was the formal gala, hosted by me, the mayor, and my wife Selene.

Only the most elite and prestigious guests were invited to attend the gala tonight, it was all that anyone could talk about, both those invited as well as those who were not, leading up to the event.

Stirring up jealousy and envy between others was a speciality of hers, predominantly done for her amusement, those who wed in opined were by my darling wife’s approval. Selene made no secret of how selective and how pretentious this gala was going to be, it was an honour to have made the guest list. It showed whose company she could tolerate, as there wasn’t many people of whom she actually liked.

It was merely for show, the gala, a stage for those invited to showcase their elevated social class. To flaunt their assets and boast about their achievements.

The irony was that this was Selene’s world, Selene’s infamy that flocked them to this gathering, rather than mine, their mayor. It was bizarre how easily she had slipped into this pretentious way of life, this judgemental and isolated existence, dining with the upper class, the crème de la crème of guests, when this was not the world or the social status she had been born into.

Raised in the streets amongst the sewer rats, her family has no wealth, in fact they held very little to their name. They could not afford to feed two hungry mouths, proffering her brother over her. When I met her she meant nothing to no-one, not even to her own family. They showed no concern for her, could not care if she lived of died as she struggled to fend for herself. They had been cruel to her all her life, but the streets were not much kinder. showed any compassion or concern for her. She truly was a nobody until our paths crossed.

I remembered in minuscule detail, our first meeting. When I had when I first met her, practically stumbled across her one summer evening over five years ago.

Work had grown tiresome and monotonous, I had deadlines to meet and important meetings to schedule, people to butter up if I was to become the the new mayor the following year. I had to think of something that made me stand out, something that my opponents didn’t have, but so far I was drawing a blank, unable to think straight. Deciding that an evening stroll would be the best thing to clear my head.

The sun was setting in the distance, casting the sky in a sunburnt orange hue that graduated into crimson and violet, accentuating the slate grey clouds that imposed overhead, threatening to make good of the local weather reports of out-of-season storms.

I had reached the park, without realising. It was as if an invisible hand was guiding me towards her. Compelling my feet to walk in a different direction that the usual route I would take, as if they were acting independently from the rest of my body, as if they had s mind of their own, taking me unawarely into her path.

Selene says it must have been fate. I say I had just gotten lucky, being in the right place at the right time. Although my father always told me “man makes his own fate, makes his own luck. Man can only succeed through sheer hard work and determination.” I had heard it so much it had become emblazoned in my mind, a constant reminder that I had to work harder than the rest of them, if I wanted to be the better, more powerful and successful than them all.

That day, as I entered the park a booming clap of thunder sounded overhead, reverberating through my body, causing the birds I. The nearby trees to caw and desert their nests. Horses pulling carts in the street that ran adjacent to the park, shrieked out in pure fear.

Then the rain began.

Thick heavy drops plummeted to the ground with no mercy. It’s suddenness had caused flooding in the streets, soaking anything and everything in its patch instantaneously.

Deep regret set in. My tailor-made suit was made of the finest materials, designed to emphasise my status, my power. Not to withstand this torrential downpour. What would people think if they were to see me in such a sorry state?

Head bowed low, holding onto my hat I stomped through the park to the corner of FairGrove, a short distance from my abode. There was absolutely no way I could return to the office, not looking like this.

Perhaps an early night would do me food anyway, a good nights sleep was perhaps what I needed to refresh my mind, have a fresh head for a fresh campaign.

Pushing forward, completely ignoring others scurrying around beside me. That was when we crashed into one another, both of us taking several steps back to see whom, or what, we had come into contact with.

Typically, I would explode, shouting profanities and showing my aggression at the lack of respect from those of lower status. How dare they walk into the path of me, do they not know who I am?

One look at her, was all it took for all of my words become lost somewhere in the back of my throat. Disregarding the rags in her hair and the tattered dress she wore, she was the vision of pure beauty.

She blushed, flustered and embarrassed gathering her belongings that she dropped during our collision. It wasn’t much, a basket of bread and fresh apples. “I’m so sorry” she gushed, avoiding my eye contact. “I wasn’t looking, the rain-“

I smiled, a motion my face was not accustomed to. Feeling the muscles in my face ache in my efforts, I picked up a stray apple and offered it to her. “What is your name?” I had asked her.

“It does not matter, sir” she muttered, her eyes still cast to the floor.

It mattered to me, for some unknown reason she mattered to me. I needed to know, her beauty so compelling, I lifted her chin so that I could see her face properly. Willing her to look at me for the first time. She flinched initially at my touch, clearly no man had ever treated her right,

I swelled my anger at the thought of her ill treatment, at the awful life she must lead., knowing she deserved better just by looking at her.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing a set of vivid green pair of eyes, almost too bright I. Colour too be real.”what is your name??” I asked again, my voice barely audible over the torrential rain that drenched us.“Selene” she whispered back, her eyes never leaving mine.3 “My name is Selene”

Her name rolled off my tongue fur effortlessly, echoing in my head “Selene” I purred. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever mer” I watched as her grew red, blushing at my compliment. “Tell me, Selene, do you belong to someone?” She shook her head. “Good, because you do now” I told her., pulling her into my embrace “You are mine… and you will live have a very good life”

She looked up at me with ridicule, as if I was mocking her. “You have only just met me” she gasped when she stared at my face, realising that I am not one to jest. “You do not even know me” she added.

“I shall have the rest of my life to get to know you, if you are willing to give me a chance to give you a much better, happier life?” My eyes pleaded with her, for me it was love at first sight. It was almost as if she had cast a spell on me, for I was never one to be this spontaneous, to admit my emotions like this.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

I nodded frantically, bringing my lips down upon hers. “I am very sure that I want to make you my wife”

A sudden knock at the door snapped me out of my memory. The smile that brighten up her face that day lingered in my mind. She appeared from behind the door, looking just as beautiful now, as she did back then.

“Christopher, darling, they are waiting for you” she spoke softly, as she sauntered over to me, her dress rustling with every step.as she drew closer.

Selene stood perfectly poised, half into the study, her evening dress she had been keeping a secret revealed. A deep emerald that hugged her figure and complimented her copper-coloured hair. Looking every bit the part of the Mayor’s wife, my wife,

No longer looking looking lie the shell, the ghost, of whom she had been all those years before. She was elegant, graceful, looking as though she had belonged in this life, never in a million years would you believe that I had found her on the streets

“Darling, are you ok?” She asked, her hand greatly reaching out to my face, her other hand flitted on her stomach. was a small g, slight, gentle gesture of protectiveness. “Darling. we need to discuss-”

I held up my hand, silencing her, I was not going to discuss her adultery, before the start of the gala. I didn’t particularly es r to discuss her sordid affair with someone subservient to her status, that resulted in her pregnancy. It sickened me that a child was growing inside of her from another man’s seed, the necessity to pretend that this was my own to prevent the scandal from leaking to the public, to the press. This would tarnish my campaign, my own reputation.

Everyone would question my ability of running as mayor; how could I control public affairs, if I had no control over my own wife?

“We will Selene” I composed myself, “ but later. As you said, darling, it is best not to keep them waiting.”

***

POV - Unknown:

I have been around for a long time.

It has been too long to know exactly how many years, centuries, millennia that I have wondered this Earth

Choosing to live amongst the humans, to be a parasite, to become a part of them. Invading a small fraction within their unconsciousness as a way to control them, as a way to manipulate their surroundings, to manipulate their fate to my will.

To humans the thought of immortality may be appealing, but it soon grew tiresome, lonely, monotonous. Unable to experience life unless through them,

Never before has any of the humans realised that I was there before. Never had any of them channelled my power, my strength, my emotions. Until her. Alice.

The descendant of my first ever human vessel.

My chosen vessel.

Alice was by far the strongest vessel I’ve ever had.

She could pull my own memories from my subconscious; snippets from previous vessel’s lives, something that none before her had ever done.

She could harness my strength and use my power from a very young age, with ease and with accuracy as if they were her own.

It was worrying, terrifying even to know that she seemed to be controlling me, using me, rather than the other way around.

I had a feeling things could end badly; end in a way not exactly as we had planned.

If I had known to the extent that using her as my vessel would cause, I would have seriously contemplated remaining a spectre without a physical body until the end of time.

***