BOOK 3 of the ORPHIC Series
CHURLISH
/ˈCHərliSH/
marked by a lack of civility.
~~~~~
Lucille 'Lucy' Opal Baker finds herself in the 21 century sporting the title of Aunt while lugging along h...
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"Too much safety seems to yield only danger in the long run."
Budapest, Hungary May, 2016
LUCY WAS STUCK IN THE realm of the dead. She wasn't trapped by any means; trapped would indicate she was unable to escape the afterlife completely. No, that wasn't it. Lucy was more or less stuck with the soul of the woman–Anisha was her name–who failed to make a decision between the forked path in front of her. One would lead to the Field of Reeds, the other would lead to the Fields of Punishment. They had finally narrowed her decision down to two paths–Valhalla wouldn't suit her–but Anisha was very, very indecisive.
For good reason, of course, having been a Black Widow for practically all her life. But Lucy didn't have enough time to spend with her. She understood Nephthys wanted her to be led down the correct path, and that she was there to aid her, but she needed to know that Natasha and Yelena were safe.
It was worse when she didn't know how much time had passed in the land of the living. She had sat with Anisha for what felt like at least an hour, running her hands through the monotonous grass as Anisha's spirit–filled with color–told her nearly everything she knew about being a Widow, of having no bodily autonomy, of being an object; a pawn.
And Lucy had empathized with her–she had–but empathy did not sway the soul of a strong willed woman.
Lucy kept her expression soft and patient as she stood besides Anisha, the woman standing with her arms wrapped around herself. She held onto her elbows for some sense of comfort as her eyes darted from one path, to the other.
She took a step forwards, hesitated, then drew back again.
"How do I know. . .How do I know which path is right?" She asked, unsure.
Lucy stepped forwards, placing a soft hand on the woman's shoulder, letting it hover so she could at least feel her warmth.
"Your heart was balanced against the feather of Ma'at." Lucy started again. "You have a balanced heart, but your mind does not agree with your heart. According to what you've told me, Dreykov controlled every aspect of your body, right?"
Anisha glanced at her, swallowing hard.
Controlled.
Past-tense.
She nodded in clarification.
"Well, then everyone you killed, every person you hurt with your hands, were never your hands in the first place." Lucy admitted. "Dreykov owned you, Anisha. I need you to understand that. Your body didn't belong to you. It belonged to him."
