There's always been something about Hallo'een that's made me anxious, excited.. You could drag out fishnets, wear robes and dresses that flashed skin that had lost its summer tan, and give in to delightful dark impulses. It was decadent. I could dress in the clothes that Damion had loved for me to wear, but I had been too shy to enjoy. But not now. Not tonight. There was something different tonight. The girl that stood in the mirror wasn't me, but some ancient sultry priestess, some enchanting witch. It was once again Halloween, and tommorrow would make a year to the day since I'd lost him.
I did look good. I'd always liked the witchy mystic look, but never really dared. The dress was cut so low, and its flowing layers hid my flaws. My skin was light against the dark pitch black fabric, and even I hadn't known I was capable of showing that much cleavage and liking it. I shifted the corset under my dress, and smiled to think I was going all the way with this. My hair wasn't long enough for long wild curls, but was manageable in lovely flaxen glittering ringlets, pulled back by a crown piece with a blood red stone. One of Damion's trinkets. With a sigh, I fastened his pendant around my neck, where it hadn't been for months. The moonstone glittered. I pulled on the knee high boots and the transformation was complete. My hands glittered, silver nails surpassed only by the glint of the onyx stone of my ring. The pendant nestled just where it should between my breasts. My lips bewitching red, and eyes glittering liquidy brown rimmed in silvery blue. Wicked, I loved it.
I traced a finger over the moonstone pendant. God how I missed darling Pagan Damion. He was as Pagan as they had come, and I had so wished to be like him. I sighed and recalled things I shouldn't have. It had been too long since he had died. Too long since I had wanted anyone else, and tonight of all nights would remind me of him. It was as if I was spellbound by him still. I shifted, and picked up the staff, carved of Rowan wood and topped with the most beautiful ball of quartz crystal, another of his gifts. Rowan wards off bad witches you know, he had laughed. I slipped his sheathed dagger upon my belt for effect., and the velvet pouch followed it, filled with glittering dust. Tonight I was the witch. I was Circe, no I was Medea. I was capable of anything.
The party was at Terrace Farms, an old victorian place in the country, always well done up, and always yielding the best costumes. Stepping through the door, I couldn't find a soul I recognized. That is the terror of a masquerade ball. I stepped into a corner and surveyed the room, praying that, true to form, Shelly had came as Cleopatra. Her I could not find, but there was a simply lovely man that I couldn't take my eyes off. He was tall, broad shouldered, and clad entirely in black, save for the touches of scarlet. He wore polished knee high boots, tight fitting leather pants...not those that you find on bikers or wannabes, but something that looked like it was out of a history book.
Tucked into those divinely snug pants was a black shirt, the type you imagine pirates wearing. A velvet cape, not one of those tacky department store things, but a lush full cape almost brushed the floor, and from his neck was a blood red stone, on a black cord. It glinted against dark skin. And around his waist was a blood red leather belt, which matched the bands that were bound around his wrists, and the glint of red that shined from his ear. He looked good, it was perfection. I looked up at his face and was shocked to see, light, gleaming golden hair, and the greenest of green eyes behind a mardi-gras inspired scarlet mask.
Good god he looked like Damion. The grand pagan priest whom I had adored. I shivered, in fear, in anticipation, I wanted this one. If only for old times sake. Damion had been taken from me, but I could take pleasure in the image that looked like him. He caught me looking at him and I smiled before looking away. With a touch of the moonstone pendant, I prayed to whatever gods, even to Dark Hecate herself to aide me in this. It was All Hallow's Eve after all. Anything was possible. Everything was probable. In a moment, I was startled, someones hand against my wrist.
"Lovely staff, m'lady." He glanced down me in a way that made me want to draw my cloak around me. Instead, I stood taller, and met his gaze.
"Lovely costume m'lord." I eyed him in the same manner, wickedly wondering if it was just me, or if those leather britches had tightened.
"They have." He winked and took my hand, and I was left wondering had I spoken out loud. He led me through the crowds and up the stairs and into the bedroom which every year bore the sign "The Masters Chamber". With a grin he flipped the tab on the door knob to RIP- Please Do Not Disturb, and pulled me into the room closing the door.
It was pitch black and I almost stumbled against him. I didn't know if it was me, or what, but the candles just seemed to flicker into a flame. I never saw a lighter in his hand. It was like all the times Damion's coven had gathered..things just seemed to happen, and you just seemed to accept them.
"Nice trick Diablo." I curtseyed to him. I had used Damions nickname even. Oh, I was going to ruin this yet! Heart racing for no apparent reason. I took a bit of the glitter from the pouch and rained it down upon us. It fell in glowing arcs in the light. Almost magick. Almost.
