When He Called the Goddess

"Tomorrow will be the massacre to end all wars. The dark era will end at the hand of the midnight queen. He who takes a chance will fall while the one who remains at home will thrive in obscurity while the other dies in mock glory."

Even the greatest wizard is still just a man. What happens if that man isn't really a man anymore? The goddess, Morrigan sees him for what he is, a boy who longs for the feel of his own flesh, a child searching in vain for the security of his mothers womb. That could still be a man, but this one is really no more than a memory...

Chanting filled the air, dark robed figures swayed to their own voices. "Morrigan, Morrigan, Morrigan..." The sounds faded to silence as the circle parted. A man in robes of blood red strode to the center alter. On it a raven was tethered between a bloody dagger and the fresh carcass of a lamb offering.

"Come to us, Morrigan, goddess of war. I call you by name, aid us in our righteous quest for purity," the red robed man shouted to the sky. The chanting started up again.

"Bless us, Great Raven with the blood of our enemies, our offerings are ripe and our spirits high." The circle continues to sway. Clouds rolled in overhead and tempest winds whipped through their robes, pulling like phantom fists. A voice rolled like thunder from the clouds.

"What is it you seek?" the thunder voice asked punctuated by a lightning strike.

"We seek you, Great Destroyer," the man cried, throwing his arms wide. "We seek your protection as we purge the world of those unworthy of your blessing,"

The goddess seemed to think over his words as the sky darkened and thunder and lightning boomed and flashed almost simultaneously overhead. The circle stopped chanting and huddled on the ground, frightened by the storms power. The goddess' voice erupted above them.

"What makes you think you can choose who is worthy, wizard?" she thundered. The raven on the alter flapped his wings and pulled screaming at his tethers. Suddenly they disappeared and the bird flew up into the clouds until he became nothing more than a speck.

"Who granted you the right to choose who lives and dies?" The raven spiraled down, growing larger and larger until it morphed into a giant dark winged specter with a woman's face twisted in rage. It flew straight toward the heart of the red robed man.

"I CHOOSE WHO DIES," she roared "AND I DECIDE WHO IS WORTHY OF MY BLESSING. I rule that you are unworthy, mortal, I say you die."

The raven's beak pierced his heart and dark blood spewed out over the black bird's wings and spattered the nearest members of the circle.

"Your lord has angered me," the goddess said to the cowering and blood-stained circle, "you cannot win these battles," the raven-woman motioned with a wing, "Now go, never call upon me again."

The circles number dwindled as the sound of the loud *pop*s of people disaparating in a panic filled the air.

"You have ink for blood," Bellatrix commented as she stepped over his tangled legs. "Goodbye, Tom Riddle."

*POP*