While Calla slept, Daniel returned to his lab and found something unexpected waiting on his desk, the book he had read from the night before and the staff he had used to take control of her soul. There was a small post-it note attached to it, in Janet’s neat handwriting he read:

The old woman must have stuffed this under the black silk they had used to wrap the corpses. He set straight to work with the small book and tapestry lying before him. Now that he was back in his lab with his computers and books, it did not take as long as he thought to decipher most of the text. Back when he was locked in that small tower room, he had not had the time to look through the contents of the book and instead concentrated his efforts on the passages that the elder woman had shown him. Now he could see that there were two rituals written in this book, at first, he had thought them to be the one in the same but there were differences. While both were intended to bind Calla to another the first ritual, the one he had not read before, was clearly intended to be of a more temporary nature than the second one. The first eluded to the idea that the bond would last ten years and that seemed to contingent upon the contents of the first cup from which she drank. For Calla, that meant she would have been 22 when either the bond should have been broken or she would have undergone the second ritual. For a moment, Daniel wondered why that had not taken place, why they had waited an addition 15 years to remove the bond from her and then found his answer.

That second ritual eluded to a more permanent bond, in fact a lifetime bond. Calla had not lied, there was no Master before Kanan and there would be none after Daniel. Something about either the contents or the cup, he wasn’t sure which, but was sure that she could not drink from the cup again. Daniel found himself wishing that he knew what had been in those two cups! Before now, he had thought there to be some type of mild sedative in the cup, but perhaps he was wrong about that. Perhaps, whatever it was, it was a lot stronger than a mild sedative. There must be some type of herb or root, which was used as a type of bonding agent but it, was probably also poisonous. It would take some digging to find such a ritual herb but he would dig for it. Whatever was in the second cup was probably meant to act as an antidote to the poisonous effects of the first. On through the night, Daniel sat at his desk deciphering the text, making notes, scratching things out and starting all over again.

Daniel pored over the words that he had said the night before and wished he had taken them a bit more seriously than he had at the time. In school they had taught him that such Pagan rites and rituals, like any other rites and rituals, were just words and ‘symbolic magick’. Maybe they had been wrong, certainly he had seen enough things on his trips through the Gate to be able to null and void a whole bunch of shit he learned in school. This ritual was greater than any Symbolic Magick he had ever encountered. This was some damn powerful Ju-Ju, not something to be fucked around with just for shits and giggles by any means. If he had more time to think about it, Daniel realized he might not have taken part in the ritual after all, Calla might well still be stuck on Tiberia with Naganti Kanan. He found himself thankful that he hadn't had more time and that he had not known about the needles they were going to use on both of them.

Well, so much for the first promise he had made, hey? There was no fire for her to sleep by here on the base.

Oh, well, we are really batting a thousand now, huh Danny? Let’s see, today the food he had provided for her had consisted of two Cokes and 5^th Avenue Bar.

Well, doing a little better now, he did give her a roof over her head, or at least the military had provided it for her via him.

Had the Lady awoken? He didn’t know.

Daniel turned his attentions from the text and the tapestry to the computer he began to search for information regarding Ares and Aphrodite. He did not find much more than the standard stuff that every first year student of Greek Mythology already knew. Aphrodite had risen from the Sea, so beautiful was she that all of the Gods fought over her. In the end, Zeus had given her to Hephaestus, blacksmith to the Gods. Aphrodite had railed against Zeus’ decision; while Hephaestus was kind, he was the ugliest of all of the Gods. Hephaestus labored hard in Smith Shop day and night; he smelled of sweat and the grit of soot covered his body. His touch was always rough on her silken skin. She was the Goddess of Beauty, Light and Love.

Aphrodite loved all things bright and beautiful. She loved music and to dance. True to her title as the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite was especially enamored with all things having to do with art of lovemaking and experimented with all of them every chance she could. Above all, Aphrodite loved to be touched, more than the act of making love, she wanted to be stroked and caressed, it brought euphoria to her. Although certainly not adverse to any form of lovemaking, it was the sensuality and not the sexuality of the experience that captured the Lady of Love. It was not long before Aphrodite shied away from the blacksmith’s touch of her husband and into the waiting arms of his brother, Ares God of War. Ares was tall, strong, handsome and every bit as passionate as Aphrodite. Against the will of the other Gods Aphrodite had engaged in a torrid affair with Ares that had lasted hundreds of years. Although both of them had many liaisons with other gods and mortals, not even under threat of death would Aphrodite leave Ares’ side. She bore him three sons during their union; the most notable of all was Eros or Cupid, as he was known in the Roman pantheon. Daniel could find nothing regarding a daughter and no one by the name of Calla or Callestah. That was to be expected, wasn’t it? Who in their right mind was trying to track the genealogy of the ancient Greek Gods FORWARD in 1966 or 2004? No one. Daniel did find one thing interesting in the story of the Lady Aphrodite and the Lord Ares; she had borne him four children according to history, all sons. Lord Ares, as far as Daniel could tell, had hundreds of sons with mortal women and goddesses alike. He had but one daughter and she was lying in Daniel’s bed, waiting for his return.

Not finding anything else of much use where Calla‘s parents were concerned, Daniel turned his attentions toward finding what he could on ancient Greek gods and rituals. It turned out to be a longer search than he had thought. While finding the more mundane matters was fairly easy, finding detailed information was not. Searching site after site and online mythological encyclopedias, Daniel found himself wishing he had paid more attention in his Greek Studies courses instead of wondering what Michelle Brown was wearing under her skirt. Ah, those were the days. Daniel smiled a little to himself while he worked.

Problem was, he wasn’t looking for something purely Greek in nature, now was he. No. Nor should he be looking to whatever traditions the Shankuk people held. The ritual was not Greek in nature at all; it was much along the lines of an ancient Celtic ritual. Kanan and his people had not written this ritual, he had simply found a way to twist it to his own best advantage. The ritual was something that, like the tapestry and rag doll, had been left behind with Calla when Ares took her through the Gate. So, who had written it and why? Why would Ares do something like that, if He was going to leave instructions or something behind with her, why weren’t they of the Greek tradition, why weren’t they even written in Greek?

The Shankuk people were a very odd mixture of cultures and Daniel figured that was because Kanan and his people were not indigenous to Tiberia. At some point in time Kanan’s people had learned how to work the Gate and had used it to escape whatever home world they had for whatever reason they had. In their travels they had simply absorbed the other cultures they came in contact with and made their way of doing things, at least the ways they approved of, into the Shankuk method of doing things. Daniel wondered what became of the people who had been indigenous to the worlds the Shankuk visited and took over, had they too been absorbed into the Shankuk culture? By the looks of them, he didn’t think so. Inter-breeding was not something which was likely to be smiled upon by the Shankuk. In the end, they had probably just obliterated the people who had come before them. Where did that leave Calla? How did Kanan explain her to his people? Maybe Kanan had told them that she was a prize of some kind. Then again, maybe they all knew who Calla really was and had been hiding her in their midst. And if so, from who? And why? As crazy as it may have sounded to someone else, Daniel thought he was close to the truth with that. Still the ‘why’ of it all kept dancing out of his reach.

For the last time that night he compared the ritual he had taken part in the one Kanan had been part of before him. While in both they claimed to Lord, Master and Sovereign, and to have mastery over her heart, mind, body and soul, only in Daniel’s did he claim to be Sa’Tan, the Avatar. Only in the second ritual did it say anything about “The Lady” or her needing him to defend her. From whom was he supposed to protect her? Why couldn’t she protect herself? While the ritual appeared to be about binding her to him, something said that was just window dressing. In the end, he was going to be bound to her.

If nothing else, Kanan had told the truth about one thing, being bound to Calla was a big responsibility.

After untold cups of coffee and rolled bits of paper tossed at the waste paper basket, finally, in the wee hours of early morning, Daniel made his way back to his quarters. Opening the door, he remembered the woman who was asleep inside and refrained from turning on the overhead light. Instead, he dropped the papers onto his desk that was right by the door and took off his shoes and shirt. In the dark, he felt along the smooth wood of the footboard until he found the other side of where he had tucked her in earlier. Daniel drew the covers back and slid into the bed. Just wanting to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hand, Daniel reached out to the other side and found it empty. He did not have to wonder where she had gone, he simply slid himself to the other side and turned on the small lamp by the bed. Lying on the cold floor with only his bathrobe to keep her warm was Calla and she was shivering in her sleep. His fingertips reached down and touched her hair. He took the comforter from the bed and laid it over her before he turned out the light. He lay awake for a while, alone in his new bed listening to the soft pattern of her breathing on the floor next to him. How many nights had Kanan left her battered and broken on the floor by his bed?

I can’t do this. It was the one thought that tumbled in his mind in the darkness. I can’t do this. In the grand scheme of things, Dr. Jackson was beginning to realize that he barely took care of himself and that Jack was right, Calla was not a pet. And really hadn’t had a fucking clue as to what he was going to do with her once he brought her back to Earth. Nope, back on Tiberia all he had known was that she was leaving that planet with him, one way or another. Now she was here, where he had wanted her, she deserved so much more and so much better than what he could give her at the present.

Daniel reached down to touch the softness of her hair again and could not take the thought of her lying on that cold floor any longer. He turned on the lamp by the bed and gaze down at her. Calla was lying directly under the photograph of Sha're which sat on the nightstand by his bed. Something inside of him knew that not only had Kanan made her sleep on the floor at his bedside as a sign of her submission but also, now she was showing her that same submission to him and the memory of his dead wife. Daniel drew a deep breath, reached out and put the photograph face down on the nightstand before he squatted down beside her. “Hey,” he whispered quietly so as not to alarm her. “Hey, Calla.”

She raised a small hand to her forehead and opened her eyes. “Daniel,” came her sleepy reply.

“Yeah, what are you doin’ down here, huh?”

“Sleep now.”

“What did I tell you?” He put his hands under her body to raise her off the floor. “Up there.” Daniel helped her into the bed, she turned to him as she slid into it and reached for the sash of the robe. “No.” He held her hands tight to keep the robe in place. “Sleep now.” He said in the same tone that she had used. “With me”. Crawling into the warmth of his new bed, he reached over and drew her close to his body. Calla looked over at the photograph with something that looked like longing in her eyes, and then she curled up in the space between his arm and chest and her longing soothed by the soft beating of his heart. Daniel thought that if he held her just a little longer, just a little closer, she would purr like a cat in his lap. Calla fit perfectly in the space where she was lying, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, she just snapped into place (in his bed and his life if he let her) when she laid her head upon his chest. The day had been long and arduous, with her wrapped up by his side, his body warm and happy, his mind drifted off into a very deep sleep.

End Chapter Thirteen
Daughter of the Gods: Every New Beginning
By Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Fourteen

This story and all stories in the Kingdom of the Gods & Daughter of the Gods series are copyrighted to Lisa Beth Darling these stories may not be transferred outside of this URL in any fashion.