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Aatxe

By: Tyvara

Aatxe, the great bull spirit, haunted the gorges of the Pyrenees mountains for as long as he could remember. Able to take on any taurian form he chose, even that of the fierce Minotaur, and always with a pelt of dark brown fur. When he really tried, he could even appear completely human.

His purpose: to protect the mountains and the people. By day the way held no danger, but by night, all sorts of nefarious beasts hunted. Without Aatxe to scare wayfarers with his wondrous spirit powers, humans would soon overrun these mountains, killing anything that looked suspicious.

Over time, Aatxe had grown old. His spirit powers no longer struck the terror he once possessed. There would come a time when he would have no spirit power left. It would be up to his son, Aatxegorri, to continue his work. Aatxe trained his son from the moment he materialized, because his appearance meant that Aatxe would soon die, as his father had before him.

Perhaps if he had known what would happen, he might never have rescued the woman that became Aatxegorri's mother, but without her kind spirit, his son would not exist. It reminded him of his own mother who gave parts of her spirit to make his. Because of them, the lineage of the spirit bulls continued.

Aatxe would never forget that woman he saved. She had haunted his mind more so than he ever haunted the mountains. With his rapid aging, he found his mind wandering to her often. His mystery woman who saw his true self, and loved him.

_Outside the sun shone, but it mattered nothing to Aatxe. He'd done his duty through the night, and he took his days to rest. No sooner had he reached the warmth of his bed, that a frightened wail echoed through the caves of his home. The sound feminine and frightened. Aatxe could not sleep while some woman wailed outside his home. So he followed the sound until the caves opened out over a canyon.

Aatxe saw her from his high position, a young woman, clothed only in her long black hair that she wore about her like a cape. Her shaky footprints trailed behind her like an injured snake.

Transforming into a gust of wind, Aatxe rode down the mountain to her, reforming as an old man to hide his taurian self.

When he approached her, she babbled, screaming and fell to the floor clutching her head. He reached out to her, and from one touch he knew her mind had been lost to fever. Refusing to leave her to die, he decided to take her home, where at least she could die in peace. At least there he could keep her pain away with his powers, and be free from disturbances._

Once he'd lifted her into his arms, his spirit power enveloped her and she rested, mumbling erratically but in soft tones. In his arms he saw the injuries covering her, bruises, cuts, scrapes, burns, every part of her body appeared battered. Still, she remained calm all the way up the mountains to his caves.

Within the seclusion of his home, he set her down in his bed. While she rested, Aatxe cleaned her body of grime with his powers, but he could not undo the damage her fellow man had done to her. There was no saving her.

She didn't last through the hour before her body shuddered and she died.

Aatxe hung his head, saying prayers over her body, wishing her a safe trip to the afterlife.

When he saw the body stir, he opened his eyes to see the woman's spirit rise up from her body. Her spirit form now free of the injuries suffered by the flesh, she appeared beautiful, untouched.

Once she stepped free of her old form, she looked at Aatxe. "You are not an old man." Her face contorted with worry, then shifted into a grin. "You are like a labyrinthian Minotaur." Her sweet voice echoed with an ethereal tone.

He laughed. "I am Aatxe, the great bull spirit of the Pyrenees."

"I thought you frightened humans, not rescued them."

"My job is to protect the mortals that pass through these gorges. I just do so by scaring them off to keep them away from the dangers here." He ogled her, captured by the beauty of her spirit. "What is your name?"

She paused, then looked at the body she'd risen from, then back to Aatxe. "I don't remember. I can't remember anything." Her eyebrows scrunched in panic.

Aatxe scooped her into an embrace. "Do not be afraid. You died with a fever. Your brain was too ill. Your spirit will remember in time."

"When will that be?" She held him tight, her small body dwarfed in his arms.

"When you reach the afterlife."

"This isn't it?"

"No. When the Messenger comes for you, he will show you the way."

"When will he come?" Her voice wavered with uncertainty.

"He should have come for you already."

Panic surged through her words and she gripped him tight, digging her spiritual fingers into his back. "Has he abandoned me?"

"No. My spirit may be blocking yours. The Messenger may not recognize you from my own, but he will come for you. No soul is forgotten."

She relaxed somewhat, returning to her tender embrace. "So what shall I do until then?"

"You can stay here with me. I stay in this cave until dusk, when I go about my duties."

She continued to hold Aatxe. "I am glad you rescued me. I feel safe here." When she looked up at him, Aatxe saw the need in her eyes, and he bent down to kiss her.

From that single kiss, their spirits soon intertwined in passion. Aatxe pleasured her spiritual self with all the powers of his own, until they both screamed their climaxes.

While he held her, she whispered in his ear, "Thank you, for everything." When he looked at her again, her spirit melted away into wisps of smoky ribbons.

Startled, he looked around.

Her body had also vanished.

If the Messenger had come for her, he would have left the body. So what had happened?

Worried, he searched the caves. He had no name to call out, so he said nothing, just wandering up and down the passageways.

Just when he'd given up hope and turned back, he heard a cry. Following the sound, he came upon a small red pelted calf.

In that moment, Aatxe remembered the story his father had told him of his mother. Aatxe knew this child was a part of the spirit and body of the woman he had coupled with. This was their son. As his father had done for him, he named the child Aatxegorri.

Now his son had grown, so much that the red in his coat had begun to tinge brown, while Aatxe's turned whiter every day. Soon he would join the spirits in the afterlife, and he could find the woman who had opened herself to him. Until then, he would continue training his son.

While Aatxe led their way through the caves, the young bull's excitement sparkled in the expression on his face. Aatxe remembered the excitement of his youth. So full of promise and hope. That joy told him his son would protect the mountains just as well as all those who came before him.

As they neared the end of the caves, Aatxegorri pulled at his Aatxe's side. "There are voices up ahead. Let me get closer."

Aatxe stepped aside and followed his son to the edge of the cave. From there they crept down the mountainside, the voices growing beyond the whispered echoes heard from the cave. Soon their laughter reached their ears.

"That's the dumbest story I've ever heard!" One man said to another. "You're a superstitious fool to think there's anything in these mountains."

"I'm warning you," The other man's voice squeaky with dread. "This isn't the place to set up camp."

"Then why'd you come." A third man asked.

"Because no one told me, we'd be camping out in the spirit bull's domain."

"Spirit bull." The first laughed. "You're a loon."

Aatxegorri needed no more provocation. With his powers he called up a fierce storm. The rain appearing from nowhere, washing away the group's campsite until all that remained were three foolish young men staring into the sky. The nightmarish cloud above billowed from above, its face like the demon of the north wind. It reached out a swirling vortex, shaped like a hand. The hand reached toward the men, and for a moment, they saw their spirits pull away from their bodies.

They needed no more warning. Screaming in terror, they fled the mountains, back to wherever they came from.

Nodding in satisfaction Aatxegorri returned to the caves. Once there, at the mouth lay Aatxe's body slumped over and already dead. Aatxegorri rushed to his side, but when his son reached out to touch it, the body exploded into a pile of dust that wafted away on the wind.

Once again, there was only one Aatxe.

The End.

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Author's Notes:

According to the book, Aatxe is from the Basque mythology of Spain. He is a spirit that takes the form of a bull and haunts the caves and gorges of the Pyrenees mountains at night frightening travelers. The younger form of the Aatxe is called Aatxegorri, who is a red steer.

This one started out as just a training session between father and son, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know where the son came from, so this is the result.

I could have been more detailed with the sex, but sex between spiritual entities kinda messed with me, so I figured I'd leave it to the readers imagination. This is only a prompt after all. I'm just flowing with the images.

Thanks for reading!