"Look, child. Look at your healing, crystal bracelet," demanded Bastet.
Stacy's bracelet turned from black to dingy gray. She stared closely into the crystals. Stacy's piercing, green eyes fixated on the color change of her healing, crystal bracelet. The color change gave Stacy a shimmer of hope.
"Jess, Jess, is that you? I'm here! I love you."
"Just your love alone is weakening the evil that lurks. You feel Jess in the shadows? Your souls are still connected. Your spirits are one. We must perform a sacred ceremony, now," ordered the old woman.
The old, woman plucked two feathers from the deceased, black crow. She then cautiously maneuvered her long, sharp, fingernail in the socket of the crow's right eye. She circled the crow's right, eye socket three times. "Bless the, bless the, bless the," chanted the old woman. She popped the crow's eyeball out of it's socket. She then placed it next to the antique, wooden chest on the floor.
"What can I do to help? Anything? Anything at all?" Stacy kneeled next to the old woman.
"Yes, child. Place the crow's eyeball in between the crow's two feathers that lay directly in front of you. Don't fret, child. The crow has served its purpose. A warning! It's dead now."
Stacy carefully did as the old, woman instructed. The old woman took a raggedy, tan, cloth bag from under her thick, black robe. She placed the cloth, bag next to her side on the floor. Slowly, the old woman removed her oversized, black hood. Her coarse, white hair mirrored the age of time. She wore it loose in a bun. Her frail, deformed hands removed the loose hair which disguised her mystical features.
"Are you blind?" Stacy was startled by the old, woman's features.
The old, woman's eyes resembled those of a wild cat. Fierce with the passion of fire! Eyes, the color of smoke. A misty gray. The wrinkled lines and crevices on the old, woman's face seemed ancient to Stacy. Her skin color and texture was of desert sand.
"No, child. I see eveything just fine. I see through to your soul," whispered the old woman.
The old woman reached into her cloth, tan bag. She placed a delicate, white, owl feather directly in front of Stacy. Then she took a smaller, cloth bag out of the larger one and set it beside herself. The old woman then took out a off-white, faded cloth. She unfolded it in the direct center of herself and Stacy.
"I've seen that before. I can't place where. What is it?" Stacy studied the faded, white cloth. She felt chills up her spine! In the center of the cloth was a hand, stitched symbol.
"Place your hand in mine, child. Now, close your eyes. Search your soul. There, you will find the memory of once before," explained the old woman.
Stacy placed her hand in the old woman's hand. She closed her eyes tightly. Stacy took deep, slow breaths. The old woman did the same. Their souls touched! Intense spirits raced in purity, strengthening the bond between Stacy and her sister, Jess. Glorified spirits lit up the room! Colors of sharp, pastels soared liked shooting stars in the darkest night! Stacy opened her eyes.
"It's breathtaking! I can feel their blessings. The spirits are the colors of my sister's healing, crystal bracelet! I can feel her presence." Tears welled up in Stacy's eyes. "I remember! I remember! Mom and Aunt Cecily were discussing my birthmark. Jess and I were at the top of the staircase. Aunt Cecily swore that my birthmark was of great importance. Something about our Egyptian Ancestors and our culture. She told mom to stop hiding this importance from me. Mom obviously did not want to talk about it at all. She became nervous. Mom told Aunt Cecily that it was just a myth passed down through several generations of our people. Unfortunately, I never got to hear what the great importance was about, that I supposedly have. When I blurted out that I had the same birthmark as Aunt Cecily, mom snapped at Jess and I and told us to go outside and play. She said they were discussing grown folks, business." Stacy lifted the palm of her right hand. She stared at her birthmark. Her birthmark was the same symbol on the old woman's faded, cloth.
"Ankh, child! Your birthmark is the symbol of Ankh," explained the old woman.
"Ankh? What does it mean?"
"Listen closely, child. Ankh is an ancient, Egyptian symbol. It is the symbol of life and fertility. The circle at the top of the symbol is female. This here shape of the cross at the bottom of the circle is male. Ankh is believed to have ancient, magical, significance! Child, you are truely blessed. Truly, blessed," praised the old woman. "Believe in yourself! Believe in your true calling of the ankh! Together, we will get your sister back here where she belongs. Child, the time is now! We shall began the revolution of the souls," preached the old woman.
The old woman took four, white candles from her cloth bag. She placed a candle at each corner of the old, cloth with the ankh symbol on it. She then folded her deformed, hands into prayer position. The old woman closed her eyes tightly. Deep concentration appeared on her ancient features. Silence hovered the room. A mysterious tune began to linger in the silence.
A heavenly, whisper of a harp caressed the silence. Soft whispers from a flute crept in. Light rhythms of barrel drums blended in. Sensational cymbals woven into perfect formations of what sounded like a mystic orchestra.
"It's breathtaking! So musically inclined," whispered Stacy. She noticed the old woman's features began to soften. Slowly, the old woman opened her eyes.
"Shemayet. The heavenly music you hear is of highest, status of our Egyptian people. It's position is frequently held by women. Open your hand, child." The old woman took an instrument out from her cloth, bag. She carefully placed it in Stacy's right hand.
"What is it?" Stacy examined the antique, instrument delicately.
"It's called a sistrum, child. It's the most highly, important rattle used in our Egyptian ancestors religious, worship. You must close your eyes. Take some deep breaths. Hold the sistrum on your heart. You must not only hear the music. You must feel it to," said the old woman.
"Egyptian? I think I remember mom and Aunt Cecily speaking of my great, great, great grandmother, Ankhetitat. I remember asking mom how to pronounce the name. Why it sounded so different? What it meant? Mom told me to hush and stay out of grown folks business. The secretive, conversations between mom and Aunt Cecily about our matching birthmarks, great, great, great grandmother, Ankhetitat, became such a mystery to me. It made me wander what the big, secret was."
Stacy continued to study the ancient, antique instrument. Just as if she knew she would find answers to her mom and Aunt Cecily's secrets.
"Child, you will have all the answers you seek in time. Now, hold the sistrum on your heart. Close your eyes. Feel the sistrum's enchanted power!"
Stacy closed her eyes. She took slow, steady, deep breaths. Her heartbeat instantly began in rhythm with the mystic orchestra. She placed the sistrum on her heart. Stacy then placed the sistrum six inches away from her heart. Gently, Stacy shook the sistrum from left to right three times. Then she paused briefly. She did this consistently. With such natural grace, Stacy was in tune with the mystic orchestra. She slowly opened her eyes.
"I can feel it! I can feel the power! I'm in rhythm with the mystic orchestra. I can play the sistrum! Old woman, do you hear me? Are you, o.k.?" Stacy noticed a strange, misty fog surrounding her and the old woman. Yet, she continued playing the sistrum. It became of natural instinct to Stacy.
"Yes, child. I am fine," answered the old woman. The old woman lifted her head slowly.
Stacy was unsure of why the old woman's head seemed smaller. Not in human size. Stacy thought it must of been the strange, misty fog clouding her view. Somewhat of a mirage. Until the fog began to subside.
"Who are you? What are you? Where is the old woman," asked Stacy. Strangely, Stacy felt at peace. Non-threatened by what she saw.
"It's me, child," answered the old woman. Her head was definitely not human anymore! It was one of a wild cat! The eyes still of fierce, passion of fire! Eyes, still misty, smoke gray. The eyes of a wild cat!
"Your head is one of a cat? Your body is still human, though," whispered stacy in awe!
"Yes, child. In ancient Egyptian culture, I am what is known as, Bastet."
"So, is that your name?" Stacy stared admiring the Bastet's antique, jewlery that appeared on her now, cat head. The Bastet wore beautiful, small, gold-hoop earrings in each ear. Also, Bastet had a matching gold, nose ring.
"What you call me is not of importance now, child. We have a journey to begin, together. In time, you will have the answers you seek. It's time to perform the sacred ceremony," insisted Bastet.
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