Wild ​Reverence

by Rebecca Ross

She pierced my earlobes with three small moonstones, and the brief throe of pain made me feel like I had cracked the shell of my childhood, ready to step out of it.

And I would like to think my story began long ago when I came into the world as a pale, silent boy, destined to one day die. But it truly begins here, in this moment when my dreams grew bones and teeth and skin in the waking realm. The moment I met Red.

And I realized, far too late, that I could have chased after my mother’s soul. I could have walked with her, spoken with her one last time, as she journeyed to the misty gate for eternal rest. It is a regret I still have.

I wanted to cup my palms and carry words as if they were jewels. I wanted to soak up as much news and knowledge as I could. I felt most alive when I was on assignment.

We were gods, and yet we lived by the sunrise and sunset of the mortal world. The wax and wane of their moon. The order of their time, and when the seasons were appointed to ebb and flow. They did not realize the power they truly held over us, these humans who lived for a brief moment of time. But it was far greater than they knew.

That is when I knew I was doomed, knee-deep in this quandary. I loved her.