The Chosen Chapter Thirty-Seven The Master’s Arrival

Maria woke up quietly. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay there, in silence, with her eyes closed.

“I know you are awake.”

“How do you know, Zita?”

“Your heartbeat and breathing changed.”

“Zita, sometimes I think I need some privacy from you. I cannot even lie down with my eyes closed in peace,” Maria said, laughing.

“I would feel you even if I were in another dimension, Maria. We are one. And Lúcia is coming to wake you up.”

“Yeah, I know. I love you, Zita. Come hug me.”

Lúcia entered the room, shouting and walking around visibly nervous.

“Maria! Come on, get up. You need to have breakfast, and then you need to take the herbal bath. You need to prepare. It’s already eleven o’clock. You need to be beautiful. Oh, what’s going on here?”

“Maria is only a bit nervous about tonight. Calm down, Lúcia. It’s okay,” Zita said.

“No, no, it’s not. We’ve been cleaning and preparing the cemetery grounds since early morning. Now it’s time to prepare you, and we must look at the dress your mother gave you to see if it’s going to be perfect on you.”

“Perfect on me?”

“Yes, Maria. Everything must be perfect today, even you.”

Maria looked at Zita, and they both started to laugh.

“Now what are you two ladies laughing about, huh?” Lúcia asked, immediately starting to laugh too.

“I know I’m exaggerating, ain’t I?”

“Yes, Mama, you are,” Amada said, entering the room and lying down on the bed beside Maria.

“Today, Maria and I will go down to Copacabana Beach. Maria has never been to a normal beach with normal people.”

“Of all the days you could take her, you want to take her today?”

“Yes, Mom. Dinner is at 9:09 in the evening. We have plenty of time. Zita will come with us, and you have the help of the normal people who work in the house and the other witches.”

“Yes, maybe it’s better. At least I’ll be free to scream and shout as much as I want. I can freak out and be nervous and stressed. They don’t mind. Go, girls. Ah, Maria, you need a bikini. At normal people’s beaches, you don’t go naked.”

“A swimming suit?”

“Yes, Maria. It’s made of a different textile. Come, I have many. You can choose one, and we’ll eat outside at the beach,” Amada said.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Girls, I want you home no later than five.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Maria and Amada arrived at Copacabana Beach, followed by Zita. Maria stopped and looked around. The immense beach stretched between the ocean and the tall buildings of Avenida Atlântica. Colourful umbrellas dotted the sand, children played near the water, and music from portable radios mingled with the voices of the crowds.

“It’s beautiful, but what are we going to do?”

“You’ll see.”

Amada chose a place, spread their canga on the sand and took off her dress, revealing her bikini. Maria did the same.

“Now we’ll lie down under the sun. We’ll chat about stupid things and wait for vendors to offer us lemonade and corn. We’ll eat, and when we feel like it, we can go swimming.”

“That’s it?” Maria asked, looking around.

“Yes, that’s it. We can sleep, we can chat, we can just relax.”

“I’ve never done something like this.”

“That’s why I brought you here. I think there are a lot of things you haven’t experienced, and from what I’ve seen over the last two days, you’re curious to know what normal life feels like.”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Then lie down and enjoy yourself.”

Maria stretched out beside Amada and closed her eyes. She listened to the waves and the conversations around her.

“Amada?”

“Yes?”

“What are we supposed to talk about?”

“Anything. Clothes, handsome boys, music, things we want to buy.”

“Do we have to talk?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say we were going to chat?”

Amada burst out laughing.

“Maria, we can do whatever we want. That’s the whole point.”

Maria smiled and closed her eyes again. A vendor passed by selling cold lemonade.

“Look, Maria, the vendors saw us.”

Amada raised her hand and ordered two glasses. Maria watched the man prepare their drinks and hand them over.

“You just call him and he brings it to you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“It’s lemonade, Maria.”

“I know what lemonade is. But we’re sitting here doing absolutely nothing, and someone brings us lemonade.”

The vendor laughed, and Amada shook her head. A little later, they bought corn from another vendor. Maria enjoyed every bite, watching the people walking along the beach. They swam, played in the waves and returned to the sand, where Amada announced it was time to do nothing again.

“Again?” Maria asked.

“Yes, Maria. Again.”

Later, Amada returned from a nearby newsstand with two magazines, including the May issue of Capricho.

“Here. I promised we’d read magazines.”

Maria turned the pages slowly, fascinated by the photographs of women wearing fashionable dresses, the handbags, hairstyles and romantic photo stories.

“Do women really dress like this?”

“Some do. Why?”

“They’re beautiful.”

Amada showed her a photograph of a handsome actor, and Maria laughed at the expression on his face. Then Maria stopped at a photograph of a woman wearing elegant sandals.

“Amada, look at these.”

“The sandals?”

“Yes. They’re beautiful.”

“You should buy a pair.”

Maria studied the photograph.

“I prefer walking barefoot.”

“Then wear them when you feel like it. You don’t have to wear the same thing every day.”

Maria smiled.

“Maybe I’ll try a pair.”

“Tomorrow we can go shopping, but this time you’ll buy something!”

They continued reading, laughing and discussing clothes, actors and everything Amada could think of. A little further away, Zita watched them, giving Maria the space to enjoy herself.

For a few hours, Maria forgot about the Sacred Grounds, the witches and the Master who would be arriving that evening. She laughed, spoke about clothes, ate corn, swam and even began imagining herself wearing a pair of beautiful sandals. She was simply a girl enjoying the beach with her friend.

“Girls, it’s time to go back.”

“Already, Zita?”

“Yes, we’re even late. Lúcia is very nervous, and Maria, you need to get ready. If the dress doesn’t fit properly, you need to have time to fix it.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go. But tomorrow we’ll be back,” Amada said, laughing.

When they arrived at the house, Lúcia was waiting for them outside.

“Girls, come on. Maria, your herbal bath is ready upstairs. Wash the sand and salt from your skin first, then enter the bath. Close your eyes, breathe slowly and keep your thoughts firm. Let the herbs cleanse you and prepare your spirit for tonight. You know the drill.”

“Lúcia, I know how to take a ritual bath.”

“I know you do, Maria, but tonight is important. Now go upstairs. We still have your dress to worry about.”

“Lúcia, perhaps you should take a bath too.”

“I would need an entire river, Maria. Now go!”

Maria laughed and went upstairs. When she entered her room, she found the bath prepared.

Black roses floated on the surface of the water. Maria approached and picked one up. She had never seen anything like it. The petals were completely black, including their centres. There wasn’t a single trace of red, purple or any other colour. She brought the flower to her nose. The perfume was extraordinary, rich and intoxicating, unlike anything she had ever smelled.

She closed her eyes. A forest appeared before her. Enormous trees with pale silver trunks rose towards a dark canopy. Soft light seemed to emerge from the ground, illuminating roots covered in silver moss. Thousands of completely black roses grew beneath the trees. Some climbed the enormous trunks, while others covered the forest floor like fields of black velvet. There were no birds singing, no insects or animals. Only the distant sound of water. And that extraordinary perfume.

Maria opened her eyes. The rose was still in her hand. She smiled, placed it back in the water, took off her clothes and entered the bath. The warm water felt unusually soft against her skin. She closed her eyes and allowed the fragrance to surround her. Her mind began travelling.

Once again, she saw the forest. But this time, she was inside it. Barefoot, she walked between the enormous trees, touching the silver moss and the black roses. Their petals brushed her skin without their thorns scratching her. She began to run, laughing as the flowers moved around her.

“That’s the present from us, my lady. Happy birthday.”

Maria recognised the voice of the blind witch she had hugged two days before.

“Thank you, Satea. I love it.”

“We are all your servants, my lady. Whenever you call on us.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Maria smiled. The perfume seemed to grow stronger. She touched her arms and shoulders. Her skin had never felt so soft, as though she were bathing in something much richer than water.

She opened her eyes. The water had changed. It had become a deep-red oil, thick and luminous, moving slowly around her body. The completely black roses still floated on its surface. Maria dipped her fingers into the oil and watched it slide across her skin. It felt warm and silky, leaving her skin extraordinarily soft.

She lowered herself into the bath and submerged her head. The world changed. The warmth disappeared, and something gently pulled her into another world. When her feet touched the ground again, Satea stood beside her. They were at the edge of a desert. Golden sand stretched beneath an immense sky. The air was warm and still, and in the distance stood a magnificent castle with enormous towers and pale stone walls.

Together, Maria and Satea walked towards it. At the entrance stood a beautiful woman. Maria knew who she was. The witch responsible for caring for women who had died accused of witchcraft. The woman watched her approach.

“I am waiting for you.”

Maria was about to answer.

“Maria! Come on, get out of the water. We need to try the dress.”

Maria opened her eyes. The desert was gone. So was the castle, Satea and the woman waiting at its doors. Lúcia was standing beside the bathtub. Maria looked down. The deep-red oil had returned to ordinary water, although the black roses were still floating on the surface.

“Lúcia, you’re even more nervous than me.”

“Yes, I am. I’m nervous for you, and for me, and for all of us.”

They started laughing. Maria got out of the bath.

“Where is Zita?”

“She’s taking care of things that only she can take care of. Now come, put the dress on.”

Lúcia helped Maria into the dress her mother had given her.

“Wow, Maria, it’s beautiful, but a little bit short compared with the dresses you like to wear.”

“I can solve this.”

“How? It’s late. The Master will be here in less than one hour, and you still have wet hair. It’ll take ages to dry this long hair. We should have cut it a bit.”

Maria looked down at the dress.

“No, it’s perfect. And so is my hair.”

At that moment, the dress lengthened, reaching exactly where Maria wanted it, and her hair dried and braided itself.

“Maria! You scared me. How do you do this?”

“I don’t know. I just thought about the dress being longer, and it got longer. I wanted my hair dry, and it’s dry.”

“And braided,” Lúcia said, touching her hair. “It’s beautiful, Maria. You look beautiful.”

She looked at Maria for another moment.

“Maria, I’m starting to be scared of you too.”

“Thank you, Lúcia. But there’s no need to be scared of me.”

“Well, I need some time to get used to you. The new you. But now, since you’re ready, I’ll go check on Amada.”

Maria went downstairs. She stopped halfway down the staircase. The house was unrecognisable. The walls had become completely black. Black candles burned along the staircase and corridors, their golden flames moving gently against the dark surfaces. There were no electric lights, only candles. The familiar furniture remained, but everything looked different beneath the flickering flames.

Maria walked towards the dining room. Its walls were also black, and hundreds of candles illuminated the room. A long table stood in the centre, prepared with beautiful plates, glasses and silverware. At the head of the table stood an enormous throne, its high back rising above every other chair. Maria examined it with curiosity. The entire house was unusually quiet. The laughter, conversations and hurried footsteps that normally filled the rooms had disappeared.

“All is ready, Maria. Soon he will be here. Are you ready?”

Maria turned towards Zita.

“Yes, Zita. I’m ready.”

“Is he arriving, Zita?” Lúcia asked, entering the room with Amada and the other witches.

“Yes, we should all sit. He is arriving,” Zita announced.

Before anyone could move, a fragrance filled the room. It was warm and extraordinary, the earthy richness of spikenard mingling with the honeyed warmth of labdanum and the sweet, smoky perfume of opoponax. Maria breathed deeply. She had never smelled anything quite like it.

Then a man entered. He was tall, with black hair and tanned skin. His eyes were green, like the waters of Oxum, and around each iris was a perfect golden circle, resembling a ring of fire. He wore a black shirt, open at the front, black trousers and a ring on his index finger. He was dressed simply. He smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth. He was the most beautiful man any of the women had ever seen.

The fragrance followed him as he walked towards the throne at the head of the table. He stopped, looked at the formal dining arrangement and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the long table disappeared. In its place stood a large, low, round table filled with Maria’s favourite food. The Master sat down at the low table.

“Are you ladies going to join me? Maria doesn’t like sitting on chairs at dining tables, and she doesn’t like cutlery. Tonight, I want her to feel comfortable and happy.”

“Yes, Master,” Lúcia said.

“Come, Maria, sit down next to me. You look even more beautiful in this dress. It was meant to be worn for another god, but I’m happy you chose me instead of him.”

Maria started to laugh. Zita and the other witches laughed too. Once Lúcia and Amada realised it was acceptable to laugh, they joined them.

“Come, ladies. Come sit with me.”

All the women sat down, Maria and Zita each on one side of the Master.

“Let’s eat. But tell me, Maria, of all the foods the Earth has, how come your favourites are the simplest?”

“Because they taste like the Earth. Beans, rice, potatoes, salad, tomatoes, eggs, meat, fruit. I love all of them.”

Maria looked at her plate.

“Everything here is a gift from the world, Master. The soil, the rain, the sun, the animals. Everything has its own flavour. When I eat a tomato, I want to taste the tomato. When I eat beans, I want to taste the beans.”

She picked up a piece of tomato. She ate the tomato and smiled.

“I love feeling the world inside and outside me. I don’t want to change the food so much that I can no longer taste what the Earth has given me.”

“It makes sense. And you eat with your hands?”

“Yes, Master. Listen, Master, don’t you have a name?”

“Master is my name.”

“That’s not a name. That’s a title, whatever it means.”

“Maria, don’t say that. We cannot speak like that to the Master,” Lúcia interrupted.

“Let her, Lúcia. Maria is right. Master is a title, not my name.”

“I won’t be calling you by your title.”

“Why not, Maria?”

“Because you’re not my Master.”

“Maria!” Lúcia exclaimed, offended.

“Lúcia, stop correcting Maria. She’s free to say what she wants.”

He turned towards Maria.

“Maria, you want to call me by my name?”

“Yes. You also call me by my name.”

“True. My name is Helel Ben Shachar. Some also call me Phosphoros. How do you want to call me?”

“I’ll think about it, but I like Ben.”

They all started to laugh.

“Now can we eat? I’m starving.”

“Maria, I love your sincerity.”

“Thank you.”

Maria served herself a plate and started to eat. The Master looked at her. All the other women remained still.

“What’s wrong? Ben, you don’t know how to serve your own plate?”

“Well, I’ve actually never served my own plate.”

“We’re eating like at the Sacred Grounds, right? Each of us serves our own plate. Here, take the rice.”

The Master took the bowl of rice and served himself. Then he passed it to Zita and took the beans. They all began eating quietly. Maria looked around.

“Did somebody die?”

Everyone burst into laughter, and the ice was broken. They talked and joked until their plates were cleared and desserts were served.

“These desserts are the best! Ben, tell me, which one is your favourite?”

“I like this one. What’s it called?”

“It’s called cocada. It’s made with coconut. It’s my favourite too,” Maria answered, smiling at him.

Maria looked at the Master and gently touched his hand.

“Maria, we cannot touch the Master,” Lúcia said.

“Why not? Ben, tell me, what exactly are you the Master of?”

“Maria!” Lúcia corrected her again.

“Lúcia, I’ve already told you once. Stop correcting Maria.”

The Master looked at Lúcia. For an instant, his eyes became flames. Only Lúcia saw them. She lowered her gaze and remained silent. When he turned back towards Maria, his eyes were green again, encircled by gold.

“I am the Master of this world, Maria. Long ago, this world was entrusted to my care. The lands, the oceans, the creatures that inhabit them, humanity itself. I was given the responsibility of looking after it.”

Maria listened carefully.

“The Orixás all have responsibilities, and so do the witches. How do you look after the world?”

“I bring light, wisdom and freedom.”

“I like that, but since you’re about freedom, why did you want to send me to the desert?”

“So you would learn who we are and what we do. You would get to know my court, as you know the Orixás.”

“Okay, I’ll go, but only for a week, and I want to come back. Then I’ll decide if I want to visit again.”

“You don’t need to go anymore, Maria.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because with your behaviour, I’ve come to know you and love you. I would like you to be with me in my court, and I will personally show you our ways.”

Maria looked at the Master. He smiled at her. At that moment, her heart skipped a beat. She felt an emotion she had never experienced before. Looking deeply into his eyes, she closed her own for a moment and imagined herself in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her.

When she opened her eyes, the Master was still looking at her. He took her hand and kissed it.

“Should I be afraid of your court?”

“No, Maria. I’ll protect you.”

“From what?”

“Everything.”

The Master kissed her hand again. Maria couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Maria, would you like to walk in the cemetery with me?”

“Yes, I do, but Zita must come with us.”

“Of course.”

The Master stood up and offered his hand to Maria. She took it and rose from her place. He offered her his arm, and together they left the dining room and walked towards the garden outside, with Zita following a few steps behind.

They walked in silence beneath the moonlight. After a while, Maria stopped. The Master turned towards her.

“I want to see the colours of your eyes in the moonlight,” she said.

“Did they change?”

“Yes. Now the green is stronger, and the yellow looks like fire.”

“That’s because I’m happy.”

“Why are you happy?”

“Because I’m with you.”

Maria smiled.

“I’m happy too.”

The Master looked into her eyes.

“Maria, you will become my time, the guardian of my silences, the accomplice of my breaths and my every dream. You will be the only part of me that is love.”

He leaned towards her and gently kissed her forehead. Maria looked up at him.

“Maria, do you love me?”

“Yes, my Master.”