I open the door and step into the Temple of Sorrows. I know this place and why I am here. I hear the wailing the moment I cross the
threshold. The sound is everywhere, like
a whirlwind moving across the waters,
The Temple is dark and cavernous. There is no floor, only dark water rushing
continuously in a tempest of sound and yet, I stand ankle deep with nothing
solid beneath my bare feet.
I see her standing in the center of the cavern. Cloaked and hooded in black, bowed, still and
silent, surrounded by the keening of sorrow and grief. The bottom of my black dress sticks to my
legs as I walk through the waters to stand before her. She does not even lift her head to look at me
as I push back the hood that hides her face.
I remove the cloak from her bowed shoulders, her dress the same as the
one I wear. She bares a symbol in ashes upon her forehead. It is a symbol tattooed upon my back.
Finally she looks at me and her face is familiar but
unknown to me. She must have been
beautiful once, but there are dark circles under her eyes and her pale skin is
dull and ashen and clashes with her long dry hair, a faded shade of what might have been chestnut in the sun.
Her eyes are the only part of her that
looks truly alive. Her eyes are hazel, green and gold with hints of warm brown
around the edges. I look into them and I see glimpses of our lives, of hers and
of mine and of those lifetimes in between.
Tears begin to flow down her ashen face. My cheeks are hot and wet and as we weep
together, the keening finally stills as does the water that surrounds us. I take her into my arms as I would my sister
and I feel her heartbreak echo in my own heart.
As I hold her, I feel a crack in the ceiling of the temple,
a rip in the fabric of the stone above our heads and she sighs soft as a whisper,
the only sound she has made. I promise her that I will return that I will be
with her through every step of this, until she is transformed and we are both
free.
