FAITH WOULD SUFFICE

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There was a man who seemed to be in more than a bit of a fix for a long time now. He's got a mean supervisor at work, but it was the work he really wanted so he stayed. His wife got sick with diabetes at such a young age and the medical bills started to pile up. His children were doing good in school, but he has to find a school that's not so expensive because later in the year, he just couldn't keep up with the bills. He's got a good family, and he's got good friends, and being humble he never acknowledged that this was because he's a good man. He just knew these to be blessings so he was thankful in his prayers. Life should be happier in all sense. But he still has no money, and things are getting worse.

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One day, there was a tropical storm and rains hit roofs really hard for a day and two. Suddenly, flood was ravaging the city and water came very fast. The man and his family run up the second floor of their house, but water reached that, too. And then they climbed up the roof.

And while his wife and kids were being drenched by rain that hit hard on the face, while they all hugged each other because of the cold, while they cried... so scared because there is no sign of rescue, the man couldn't help but cry out.

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"Lord, I have been honest to you! I have followed your advice. I love my neighbor as I love myself. I love you more than anything or anyone else! I've always been honest and thankful in my prayers! But now, my family is in the worst danger I've ever seen anyone face! What have I done wrong? Save us! Make this go away!" Seeing his wife's pale face, his kids shivering, he threw his shame to the wind and added, "And make me a millionaire! I will buy a new house in a high place and buy the business so I can get rid of my nasty boss! Amen!"

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They huddled in the roof for more than an hour more, shivering, waiting. Suddenly, the rain stopped. Flood went down little by little until they deemed it safe to go down the second floor of the house. Water slowly went down still, and the next day showed the terrible catastrophe the flood has left in its wake. 


A lot of people were killed, a lot of houses destroyed. As he and his family cleaned their house of soaked furniture and dirt and useless things, the man, ever thankful and sober, went down to his knees on the muddy floor and prayed to thank the Lord that his family was still complete.

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The next day, he won the lottery.

And before the month was over, he's bought a new house in high ground where the ground was solid and water wouldn't flow in its natural route to find the sea. And he bought the business where he worked but he did not get rid of his former nasty supervisor because he has family, and because anyway, as the new boss, he can control him with an eagle eye and punish him if he deemed it fit. Of course, being a sensible man this was something he does not do without cause. So the mean supervisor couldn't make anyone under him suffer again. He brought his wife to doctors so she could be better treated, and he transferred his children to a better school. 

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And then he prayed on the carpeted floor of his new bedroom, a little overwhelmed still because he's not been that rich. He prayed and he thanked the Lord for the new blessing, a little bewildered. What has made his Lord changed his fate?

And then he realized, with the epiphany of someone who'd suddenly waked, that in all of his prayers and all of his hymns, of all the things that he'd asked the Lord in his entire life, until that day that he'd prayed in the roof of his old house he had never thrown all his worries to the wind, and  BELIEVED his faith would suffice.

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I Sooo Miss Buffy!

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"I guess I was kind of new to being around humans before but now I've seen a lot more... gotten to know people, see what they're capable of and I guess I just realized how amazingly screwed up they all are I mean,really, really screwed up in a monumental fashion."

"Oh."

"I mean, they have no purpose that unites them so they just drift around, blundering through life until they die, which they... they  know is coming yet every single one of them acts surprised when it happens to them. they're incapable of thinking what they want beyond to the moment . they kill each other which is clearly insane... and yet here's the thing ...  when something really matters they fight, they're lame and morons for fighting but they do.  They never... never quit. And so I guess I will keep fighting, too."

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"That was kind of beautiful."

"Hmm."

"You... you love humans."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do. You looove them."

"Stop it! I don't love them and I'll kill you if you tell anybody."

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"I wont tell anybody, I won't get a chance to anyway."

"I don't know, you might survive."

"No, you might survive. I don't know how to handle a weapon and you've been in this world  for like a thousand years, I'm not, so... I don't think I'll be ok. I'm a quitter. I think Ilike to finish off as one of those lame humans trying to do what's right."

"Yeah..."

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"So, wheelchair fight?"

-Andrew and Anya

***

"You're insufferable."

"Hey, look at me... I'm not asking you for  anything. When I said I love you, it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and worse of you, and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."

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"I don't wanna be the one."

"I don't wanna be this good-looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear. You get some rest now, I'll check  before first light."

"Spike, could you just stay here?"

"Sure. That diabolical old torture device that comforts you. gonna be fine."

"No, I mean, here... will you just... hold me?"

-buffy and spike

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***

"It's all connected. The root system, molecules, the energy... Everything is connected."

"You sound like Miss Hartness."

"She's taught me a lot."

"Then why aren't you in the  lesson?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. They should have just--"

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"Afraid. Yes. They all are. The coven... it's like they're the most amazing women I've ever met. But there's this look that they get, like I'd turn them into bangers or mash, though I'm not sure what that is."

"They're cautious. I trust you understand that."

"I don't have that much power, I don't think..."

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"Everything is connected. You are connected to a great power they feel they don't  know."

"Well, they should just take it from me."

"You know they can't. This is not a hobby or an addiction. It's inside you now, this magic. You're responsible for it."

"Will they always be afraid of me?"

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"Maybe. Can you handle that?"

"I've done a lot worse. I've killed people, Giles."

"I've not forgotten."

"When you brought me here, I thought it was to kill me. You're gonna lock me in a mystical dungeon for all eternity here... with all the torture. Instead you go all Dumbledore on me. Learning that magic, all that energy and ghada and root systems..."

"Do you want to be punished?"

"I wanna be Willow."

"You are, in the end we all are who we are.  No matter how much we may have pissed  (fussed?) with change."

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-Willow and Giles

***

"I've been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lotlonger than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things....  Don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I've followed my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I made a lot of mistakes,got wrong bloody calls. A hundred and plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of... you."

-Spike to Buffy

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***

"Didn't work. It couldn't work. Costume. Didn't help. Could not..."

"No more mind games, Spike."

"No more mind games. No more mind."

"Tell me what happened to you."

"Hey, hey, ey. No touching. Am I flesh? Am I flesh to you? Feed on flesh, my flesh. Nothing else, not a spark. Oh, fine. Flesh then, solid through, get it hot, service to go." (Unbuttoning his pants)

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"Stop it!" (slugs him to a corner)

"Right, girl doesn't wanna be serviced, because there's no spark. Are we in a southern engine?!"

"Spike, have  you completely lost your mind?"

"Well, yes. Where have you been all night?"

"Thought I'd just come here and... be with me?"

"There's time fore everything."

"This is all you get, I'm listening. Tell me what happened."

"I tried to find it, of course."

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"Find what?"

"The spark, the missing... the piece... that fit, that make me fit, because you didn't want... I can't... it's not what you needed... I dreamed of killing you.  I think they were dreams...so weak, you make me weak, thinking of you, holding myself and spilling useless buckets of salt over your... ending. Angel, he should have warned me... it's here in me, all the time. Spark. I wanted to give you what you deserve and I got it.They put the spark in me and now all it does... is burn."

"Your soul..."

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"Bit worse for lack of use."

"You got your soul back. How?"

"It's what you wanted, right? It's what you wanted, right?! And... and now everybody's in here, talking, everything I did, everyone I... and him... it... the other... the thing, beneath you, is here, too... everybody, everyone's telling me to go... go... to hell."

"Why? Why would you do--"

"Buffy, shame on you. What does a man do if he wasn't...for her, to be hers, to be the kind of man who would nev-- to be the kind of man... and she shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive...and love... and he will be loved. So everything's okay, right? Can we rest now?Buffy? Can we rest...?"

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-Buffy and Spike

***

"Hmmm... that was dif'rent."

"Yeah, it was... more intense."

"It's because of Joyce."

"Right ... huh?"

"Well... she got me thinkin' that... how people die all the time and how they get born, too and .... i kind of need one so you get the other. When I get to think that way makes stuff a little less sad and...sex a little more exciting."

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"Again, I say huh?"

"Well, I just think that I understand sex more now. Its not just about two bodies smooshing together... it's about life. It's about making life."

"Right, when... two people are much older and more richer and far less stupid."

"Breathe... you're turning colors. I'm not ready to make life with you but I could. We could. Life could come out of our love and our smooshing and that's beautiful. It all makes me feel like we're a part of something more bigger, like I'm more awake somehow. You know?"

"Yeah, I do."

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-Anya and Xander after Joyce's death.

***

"I'm sorry. Not that it mattered anymore but I needed you to know that."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you."

"Then you might wanna try the not sleeping with my friends."

"I didn't go to Anya for that, I was looking for a spell."

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"You were gonna use a spell on me?"

"It was not for you, I wanted something, anything to make my feelings stop. I just wanted it to stop. You should have let him kill me."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"Why?"

"You know why."

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"Because you love me."

"No, I don't."

"Why do you keep lying to yourself?"

"How many times--I have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to be love."

"Trust is for old marriage, Buffy. Great love...  is wild and passionate and dangerous it burns and consumes."

"Until there's nothing left. Love like that doesn't last."

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"I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore."

-spike and buffy

***

"You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'l lbe in love 'til it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'l lhate each other... quit up but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains,children. It's blood,  blood screaming inside you to work it's will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."

-Spike

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Buffy, the Vampire Slayer

Season Three

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What's the 'It' About Christmas?

It's the season of Christmas and cheers are all around. Christmas Eve has passed and the season is still on. What's the 'it' about Christmas that it still survived after years of controversy about its conception? What is its x-factor that it has become a worldwide celebration that even non-Christians partake of the holidays in good faith and in good cheer?


What is Christmas anyway? Like as if you didn't know.


Christmas is the annual celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ and is celebrated every 25th of December. It is both religious and cultural and celebrated by billions of people around the globe, Christians and non-Christians alike. Christmas season closes the Advent and starts the twelve days of Christmastide, which finishes on the Feast of Epiphany in January and is a civil holiday on countries that celebrate it--which is virtually everywhere. It's a season marked by pretty decorations, lights, Christmas trees, buying of gifts, singing of Christmas carols and other practices that could be done in general or specific in a locality. Exchanging of gifts is on Christmas Eve and special food is prepared on the table and, yes, there's much laughter and merrymaking and reunions of families and friends alike.    


How did Christmas come about? Some of these, you surely don't remember anymore from your Christian Living classes at school. 


The first record of Christmas celebration on a December 25 happened in 345 AD in Rome, though nations in the East was already on it but on a January 6 in relation to the Feast of Epiphany. It was only later that they adapted 12/25 as their Christmas Day. There's a lot of controversy going on about why this date was chosen as Jesus' birthday and a lot of scholars has already theorized, explained and/or defended accordingly. The controversy revolved around the "coincidence" that Christmas Day is also celebrated in a winter 
solstice, the day marked by celebrations revolving around the pagans' worship of the sun god, like, err, his birthday? Sol Invictus, Saturnalia, Brumalia, Sankranti... all pertaining to particular gods, celebrated annually on a winter solstice before the dawn of Christianity. 'Course, defenders of the church argued that this date was chosen as a form of cosmic symbolism--winter solstice being the birth of Christ, summer solstice the birth of John the Baptist and their corresponding equinoxes their deaths. That should be fine, cosmic symbolism it is. Even living in a tropical country, 
I know that green grass doesn't grow in winter and grass is what them sheeps were munching when the angels came to announce in glorious song that the messiah has come. Except that... there seemed to be a Catholic feast that preceded every pagan feast there is in the book. There's a saint for every pagan that died a hero or a martyr. There's a pagan echo to every leaf or flower or fruit in that Christmas decor on your door. The Christmas Tree preceded a tradition of tree worship and Santa Claus is a merger of St. Nicholas and Father Christmas and his image immortalized by a famous cartoonist. Etc. Etc. In this age, when all information is just one click away, to argue about this is almost... laughable. Yet, those brainiacs aside, people will still celebrate Christmas. Like there's no tomorrow.


So why do we celebrate Christmas? Do you think it's still about religion?


For thousands of years, it has always been there. A collective desire to imprint, to secure, to identify, to symbolize. We exemplify this in our traditions, in our culture, in myths, in art. There's no religion to it--Christmas has become our own. It has become a symbol of family ties, of brotherhood, of prosperity. It's a symbol of hope that things will be better the next year; our own cosmic cycle. It has become a mythology of the perfect hero that would lead us, guide us and save us from ourselves. In it's evolution, it has become our evolution. 


For mainstream Christians who held it in loving esteem, "figures" doesn't count because Christmas is the time for giving and for caring. Christmas is kissing and bear hugs and forgiving. Christmas is good, positive vibes expressed in red, green and gold and lanterns and carols. That is why it's important. The way it has always been before it was given a different name.

   

Immortal Series

Immortal 1: Immortal Birth
Maricel Peraja-Arroyo

Prologue

WALKING SOFTLY on light feet, Rebekah passed the shadowed driveway towards the front doors of the darkened house with only the light of the moon guiding her way. Though she couldn't see it, she could smell the musky scent of the roses in a garden nearby. The night was so quiet, in complete contrast to the thundering of her heart. If there were any other sounds, it was in the sighing of the trees. In the distant cries of the night wind.

But she was too scared to hear them. She was too preoccupied with why she was here to be scared of anything else. Because if there was something to be scared about, it was inside the house.

He was inside the house.

She was dressed in red, as red as the blood that would flow tonight if she could get through it. She reached the marbled stairs, so aware that three steps more and she would reach the doors. She began to tremble. She closed her eyes and mustered the courage to go on. After a big sigh, she opened her eyes again, eyes that were filled with such desperation that the night sighed with her but without a sound. But then her gaze was drawn to the curtains in one of the windows on the second floor. Because they moved.

Just the wind, she thought, trying to console herself without success. A soft breeze passed, fanning her back and shoulders, moving a few, soft strands of her long hair along with it. Maybe it was the wind. But something told her this was not so. Of course not, she almost snorted. He’s waiting for me.  She gulped, the sound like thunder in her ears. There was no turning back. No turning back. Or Keith would be taken away from her and her mother. Her mother would not survive that. She has such a weak heart… with her father passing away almost two years ago… felt more like two days ago, she thought as her eyes started to fill with tears. It still hurt the same. He wouldn’t want her to do this. But there’s no turning back. She sighed again and willed the tears to go away. No turning back, Papa. Can’t turn back.

Those words echoing inside her head, she took the three steps up the front doors on wobbling feet. But in that moment, as she knowingly walked towards her doom, the only thing that was important to Rebekah was that Keith would come home tonight. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to do the same… but she couldn’t think of that now. She couldn’t think of anything that could make her run away. Run back home. Because if Keith was taken, it would just be a short while before her home would be taken away, too. And what would happen to her mother. How could she let that happen?

This was just a little sacrifice to make. Just a little, compared to what she could still keep and protect.

So she raised her hand to the door and knocked with her knuckles, willing for the demon to let her in…

THE MAN watched as the girl approached the house, his jaw tightened at the sight of her thinly veiled body on the blood-red dress. They never knew what was coming. They thought they did, but they really didn’t. This one’s as stupid as the others, he thought angrily, wanting to have a taste of the mystery, a taste of the forbidden. Hoping to catch the tantalizing promise of forever but not ever knowing the danger until it was too late. As the girl walked on trembling feet, he could see the grace of her movements, and that made the stiffness of her spine like a symbol of courage. His jaw tightened dangerously close to locking and a derisive sound escaped from between his lips.

Of course she’s scared. They were always scared. It’s their survival instinct; he would not be able to remember if it hadn’t been the last feeling he’s felt before he’d been turned. Fear… when you know you’re in danger, it comes before it could be appeased. Even when they thought they knew what they were doing. Even when they choose to do this, become a sacrifice. Fright comes. She knew she would be sacrificed tonight. They were all that, sacrifices. All his for the taking. One more for this night. One more to comfort a hunger that could only be dulled by the blood.

Of a human sacrifice.

They were all naïve, some more stupid than most. How could these humans think they would love them? They know nothing about the Blood. But years passed, and lives started to perish. Some on their side, more stupid than most, has began to cherish that which could only appease. They had forgotten to believe. There was no hope left in them.

It was not funny anymore.

Times had changed, he mused morosely so as he gazed down to wait if she would actually go through with it, or if she would flee. Every body movements he could see suggested she desperately wanted to do the latter. A part of him wanted her to run. One less stupid girl meant there’s still hope for the… what? For something, anything. Even the remotest possibility that there was something to hope for was something for him to hold onto. For thousands of years, he remained in existence because he’d hoped. That he would catch her this time. He would find her.

For thousands of years… war, famine, renaissance, religion, reason, revolution…

And she still would slip from his fingers like the soft strands of hair of someone turning away.

And what’s thousands of years of hope for an immortal?

It’s forever.

To be forever young, forever naïve, forever sure… was nothing when there was nothing to hope for. For the Blood, hope was backed by something material. The immortal kind of materiality. Of reality. Something that was seen, or heard, or observed. Most of all, something that was loved so much it lived. So he believed even when others had stopped. He believed even when others had surrendered a long time ago. He hoped because he did not want to feel angry, to feel desperate. To feel hopeless. He loved. That never faded. He kept on loving her even when the sense of it had started to elude him.

The Blood, the immortals, weren’t meant to last this long without their queen, or they would be doomed to spend their days and endless nights feeding off humans like wild animals. Female humans, daughters whose blood closely resembled that of what they needed. Of the mother. Of the lover. Of whom their sole existence depended on. Serve the Queen. Protect the queen. Love the Queen. Live for the Queen. 

She would come back. She promised. She promised me she would come back. For a moment, he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the fear that accompanied the helplessness of not knowing anything more than that. Noone wants to believe anymore. Eternal night was fading fast.

And so was his sanity.

He opened eyes that looked out into the bitter night. There was the girl still, trembling on the steps. And for a while, pity was stronger than anger. Stronger than the pain.

He was about to turn away from the window when he saw her hesitate. Something made her raise her eyes to the windows—exactly where he stood. Straight to his eyes. To his soul. And suddenly, he could not move.

Her eyes. Her pale face. So beautiful, so scared, too human… but…

For what seemed like an eternal moment, her eyes held him there like invisible chains wrapped around his body. Commanding. Mesmerizing. Then cold breeze came and soft strands of her hair went flying over her slender shoulders the same time that a look of unmistakable determination crossed her face. There was the thinning of blood-red lips.

And then she sighed, and she was gone. He almost left the darkness to follow her, open the windows to jump down to her. But his brain remembered that she was about to enter the house… to seek him. To serve him… be the sacrifice. But he wasn’t thinking about that anymore. He wasn’t thinking about his anger and his bitterness or of hope or of love… because a terrible thirst has invaded his reality, a thirst so great it felt… foolish. He has never felt this kind of thirst except when…

Ten thousand years ago. He was on the bed, naked, all his senses tuned to another body. All his power leashed to the only thing that mattered the most.

Her smile. Just her smile.

His Queen, his mate, his love.

He reined in his thirst, his hunger, as a wave of tenderness warmed his cold heart. She was scared already. She may not even know.

It was only half of a second.

Then he was there, infront of the doors, hearing the rap of her knuckles from the other side. 

She has come!

And his hands moved to shove those bloody doors aside.