The Scrying (The Scrying Trilogy Book 1)

Home > Other > The Scrying (The Scrying Trilogy Book 1) > Page 25
The Scrying (The Scrying Trilogy Book 1) Page 25

by Jaci Miller


  “Her true self,” Rafe answered. “The celestial she was before the fall.”

  Sebastian nodded in agreement, a knowing look passing between them, an unspoken understanding of what those words meant.

  She cleared her throat reminding the two ancient warriors that there was another person in their midst who required more information. “If she reverts will she also regain her magic?”

  “Yes,” Rafe said.

  “You told me the Arcanists must enter the portal of their ancestral homes and reactivate the Druidstones before they are able to obtain magic and accept their birthright.”

  “I thought this to be true for all of you,” Sebastian agreed. “But I was wrong. Because she is a fallen, she does not have a birthright to claim. She is already immortal, sent to earth by the Guardian to wait, hidden as a mortal among you. She won’t know who she truly is, as her memories were blocked when she fell to earth, but these too will return, along with all her powers and knowledge of the past. I can sense her now because the process has already begun. Soon she will begin to remember and when she does she will immediately convert into her true form.”

  She was stunned by this disclosure. Numerous questions began running through her head, one of which bubbled up to her lips before she could stop it. “What the hell does her true form look like, exactly?”

  Two sets of green eyes narrowed, as both warriors looked at her, a small smirk turning up one side of Sebastian’s mouth as they shared yet another knowing look.

  “Mortals have put their own name to what celestials look like. To your kind, she would look like an angel, although not the ethereal type that mortals have conjured to combat their fear of death. Celestials are ancient sentinels—warriors in their own right.”

  Suddenly, a vivid image of Paul Bettany, as Michael in the movie Legion, appeared in her mind. Massive black wings stretched out behind him, his strong muscular body covered in ancient symbols and script, wielding a gun and knife—the ultimate warrior angel. The image ignited a subtle panic as she imagined a hysteria breaking out if the celestial transformed in public.

  “What if she reverts in front of mortals?”

  Rafe frowned. “We can only hope that she does not and that we find her before her transformation is complete. But if she does no mortal will be a match for her, even in her weakened form.”

  “Not exactly what I meant,” she responded, eyeing Rafe with irritation.

  Sebastian interjected his voice tense. “With what is coming, a mortal seeing a celestial is the least of our problems. Do you have the elixir?”

  “Yes,” Rafe answered pulling the small vial from his breast pocket.

  “She will cease to exist without it, you must hurry and discover her identity.”

  Her attention peaked at this new information. Her voice unintentionally dropping to a whisper. “What do you mean she will cease to exist?”

  “Falling for a celestial is traumatic but not permanent. Unfortunately, they cannot exist on a mortal plane, not in their true form, anyway. Their life force is not just tethered to their realm like ours, it is made up of the ether itself. Without the elixir, her physical form will disintegrate, and her life force will disperse into an atmosphere that has no magical properties to sustain it. It is why she had to become mortal when she fell to earth, it is the only way for them to exist in this world. A world without magic is difficult enough for immortals like us to survive in, for a celestial in their true form, surviving in a mortal world is impossible. The ‘Essence of Ether’ is her only chance.”

  “This must be what Seri meant when she said, find her or all will be lost,” Rafe interjected. “If the celestial’s life force disperses, the remaining Arcanists will not link, they will be rendered incomplete and the prophecy will unravel, all hope of defeating the ancient dark will be lost.”

  “If you can feel her essence does this mean she is near?” She asked.

  “No, my light stasis only allows me to feel the Arcanists once the birthright has been passed on. You are different as your second awakening provided you the telepathy that only Warlician warriors possess. Once that ancient gift was bestowed on you, I was able to communicate with you through our shared gift—as you know.”

  She rolled her eyes remembering the dreams and the strange occurrences that happened at the Elder Oak.

  Sebastian pretended to ignore her slight. “Now that the magic of Dywen has been ignited the Thanissia Universe is beginning to awaken. The ether is coming back to life which in turn has triggered the start of the celestial’s journey back to her purest form. I can feel her essence because my light stasis is also born from the ether but locate her I cannot. That is something only you can do.”

  “She could be anywhere, they all could! How am I supposed to find them?”

  “Do not be alarmed,” he said his calm, strong voice soothing her fraying nerves. “You may find they are closer than you think for destiny has a way of bringing those that share a similar one together. The blood of the witch, warrior, and celestial run through you Dane. Use your powers, awaken the ancient bloodlines—believe in yourself, believe in them.”

  She nodded, feeling the magic of the ancients as it swirled around her. A familiar sensation ignited her skin as Rafe’s hand touched her own.

  “We must go, Dane,” he said softly, his voice echoing through the clearing as the night sky pressed down on them. “We don’t have much time. The celestial’s transformation back to purity will not take long now that the ether is awakening. We must find her.”

  “There is something else,” Sebastian said his tone betraying him as he tried to remain calm.

  The hair on her arms stood up as Sebastian’s uneasiness drifted toward her, an anxious energy that crept into the furthest reaches of her mind. She felt the inklings of dread begin to build in her stomach as a strange hollowness saturated the night air. She stared at him anxiously, but if he sensed the apprehension, he wasn’t acknowledging it.

  “Shortly after you went through the portal I felt something, a flash of darkness, something lurking in the physical plane. It disappeared before I could identify it, but it stirred something deep in my memory. I have sensed it briefly, a few more times since but never long enough to recognize it, until a few hours ago.”

  His hand sub-consciously gripped the handle of his sword. “A dark witch is here in Brighton Hill.”

  The air exploded around her with a mix of emotions, all of which were flooding from Rafe.

  “Are you sure?” He growled.

  “Yes. Her magical energy is tainted with the mark of the necromancer.”

  “Who is she?” He hissed.

  Sebastian stiffened. “At first, I was not sure, as dark magic is extremely rare in this world and those that succumb to its dark power usually do so in seclusion. Even Brighton Hill’s violent past and negative energy are not enticing enough for a dark witch to risk detection.”

  He hesitated, briefly glancing at Rafe, with empathy. “Although I didn’t recognize her energy initially, the imprint of the dark witch is familiar to me, but it has been a very long time since I have felt that aura. At first, I thought I must be mistaken about her identity, for that family bloodline has long been extinguished but the more I focused, the more recognizable her energy became. The dark witch is an ancestor of Vertigan Tierney.”

  Rafe’s energy exploded through the clearing at hearing the name of the man who murdered his family.

  Instantly she was overwhelmed by the anger that raged through him. She whirled around to look at him, but his face was passive, only a fleeting glimpse of sorrow and hatred passing through his eyes.

  Sebastian must have sensed the rage, immediately going to his side and putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “You must not allow hate to be your undoing.”

  He nodde
d, as he quickly controlled his fledging emotions. “Why is she here?”

  “There can be only one reason she is in Brighton Hill, practicing dark magic in the open. She wants revenge.”

  “Dane?” Rafe asked. Sebastian nodded.

  Her heart began to thump. The air hung heavy as the word revenge reverberated in her head.

  “Revenge, for what?” she whispered. “What could she possibly have against me? I don’t know any dark witches.” The words were barely off her lips before a sinking feeling came over her.

  Lilith, she thought.

  “She must have figured out your heritage. That you are a descent of the Callathian family. How I do not know, but it is really the only explanation.” Sebastian said.

  Rafe’s eyes flashed with darkness. A deep-seeded fury only visible for a second before he managed to regain control of his emotions again. She could feel the sudden surge of resentment, his seething rage ramming through her before he managed to push it back to the depths of his being where it would continue to fester in silence.

  “A dark witch, bent on revenge, means nothing good,” he said, his voice tight with anger.

  Sebastian nodded in agreement. “This is true.”

  She thought about Lilith and the venom that spewed from her lips the last time they had crossed paths. It was obvious then her hatred was real, but what exactly her intentions, she had not made clear. Just her vow to be Dane’s undoing.

  A slow creeping chill ran over the surface of her skin as a deep-seeded feeling of dread erupted to the surface.

  “We met,” she whispered.

  Feeling her energy shift, Rafe came up behind her wrapping his strong arms around her waist protectively.

  “I’m fine,” she said giving him a reassuring smile but thankful that she would not have to face Lilith alone.

  “I know.”

  “Whatever she has planned there is no way for her to know about the prophecy or that you are now immortal and have gained ancient powers,” Sebastian stated.

  “She is a new witch and her dark powers are limited, she is no match for you Dane. She is nothing more than a nuisance even at her most powerful. My fear is that her unrelenting desire to exact revenge will cause history to repeat. Like her ancestor Vertigan, her dark magic may unwittingly fuel the ancient dark, luring him toward it, and if the ancient dark feeds off the dark magic, its powers may intensify at a much quicker rate. The prophecy may come to pass sooner than foretold.”

  Rafe’s arm tightened around her waist, his energy growing heavy with an emotion she was having a hard time identifying. “The dark magic may have to be dealt with then,” he stated, his eyes darkening.

  Sebastian’s eyes locked with his, a knowing look passing between them again. “It may. Yes”

  Dane need not be privy to the special bond that these two ancient warriors held to understand exactly what they were not saying. For the emotion that now encompassed Rafe was that of a man prepared to kill.

  Chapter 36

  The night sky held a chill, a dampness that seeped through your skin and settled in your bones. It was early evening, and she was anxious to get home. She wanted to take a hot shower before she could think about how she was going to find the celestial. She was gathering their bags when she heard Rafe’s voice.

  “There is something else, something written in the Book of Realms.” He said, once again in control of his emotions.

  “You have been reading the ancient tome?” Sebastian questioned, his tone expressing concern and disapproval.

  “Yes, well the parts Dane could not. Those that were written in the languages of our universe.” He explained, feeling slightly uncomfortable under Sebastian’s stern stare. He was sure that the rules of the past no longer held weight, but Sebastian had always been ridged when it came to The Order and the laws of their people.

  “There was a page, regarding the prophecy, written in old Druid script. It detailed what we already knew, but it was the final warning that was worrisome.”

  “What warning did it give?” Sebastian asked inquisitively as Dane moved back to join them.

  The air in the clearing became heavy as the silence of anticipation seeped into their midst. He had not fully discussed the meaning of the warning with her and he was now about to reveal something she may not want to know.

  “The Druid priests said the Arcanists will not only have the power to harness the elements but physically control them—bend them to their will. They are to be marked with the shadow of separation, the sign of fractured destinies.”

  Sebastian’s eyes widened at his revelation. “Dual unwritten destinies?”

  “Precisely.”

  She watched as both warriors cast her baleful looks. “What is the shadow of separation?”

  Sebastian looked at her, his expression pained. “It is a credence found in the lore of the fire realm. The dragon gypsies believed those who bore the mark of the shadow of separation were destined for either good or evil—their destiny broken and not yet written. They believed there to be a point in one’s journey where a major decision or choice would set them on a path from which there was no return. Once that fateful choice had been made the destiny to which it does not lead would be forever closed, leaving only the chosen path and any consequences that would unfold. The shadow of separation is said to sound like a clock ticking down to the precise moment when the individual’s destiny is finally written.”

  Her face darkened as a memory surfaced. “I heard a ticking when I became immortal.”

  “I heard it then as well,” Rafe said. “When Dane accepted her birthright, and she collapsed at the Druidstone. I didn’t realize what it was until I read the Druid prophecy.”

  “You had already experienced the binding?”

  “Yes.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Then it is true, your destiny is much more complex than we initially realized.”

  Her confusion was apparent in her voice, “So I, the Arcanists, we all have the possibility of turning evil?”

  “The shadow of separation is never that black and white. It is not a matter of your path being simply good or evil, it is more about the repercussions of a choice, a choice that may very well be the only one that can be made at the time. We often make difficult decisions, many of which render outcomes that ripple negatively. A fractured destiny does not indicate the Arcanists will simply become evil or be consumed by dark magic, it can mean that their choice, whatever it may be, may have an unfavorable outcome. Consequences that may be the better of two evils. The shadow of separation is a unique destiny and is different for any who are marked, but those that are, usually have destinies that are far-reaching.”

  She shook her head thinking about the passage in the book and the final line—the warning.

  “In the Book of Realms, it was written that the end of mankind could come at the hands of the Arcanists, is that far-reaching enough?!”

  Sebastian looked once again at Rafe, worry furrowing his brow. “We cannot try to decipher what the Druid warning actually means, any more than we can try to interpret how to change the outcome. If you fail to defeat the ancient dark, the end of mankind is imminent, so we must not dwell on what is written. We can only proceed as we must; find the other Arcanists, open the remaining portals, and reactivate all the Druidstones.”

  Rafe nodded in agreement, looking at her in support. She too acknowledged the task at hand, giving a faint smile to the two ancient warriors in hopes that it would hide the dread that simmered inside her.

  Dane pulled the keys from her jacket pocket and unlocked the Trax, the beep of the security system causing Rafe to stop suddenly, his eyes narrowing. She grinned and opened the rear gate, motioning for him to put his bag in the back.

  “Get in,” she said watching with amusement as he stared bewildered a
t the big black metal machine sitting in front of him.

  “It’s a vehicle,” she said matter-of-factly, knowing that he had no idea what that meant. “It will take us to places in this world, faster and easier than walking. It’s how mortals get around.”

  She walked to the passenger side and opened the door, her hand taking his, gently guiding him toward the front. On her instruction, he climbed tentatively inside, sitting cautiously in the seat and wincing visibly as she slammed the door shut. Hurrying around to the driver’s side, she giggled to herself, amused that she was involved with a man that knew nothing about the modern world and its technology.

  She started the engine, glancing over at Rafe as it roared to life. His eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched, but he remained calm, refusing to acknowledge her. Putting it in reverse she backed out of the parking spot and just for fun accelerated, turning the wheel quickly so that the Trax’s wheels spun sideways, throwing the vehicle around until they were facing the opposite direction.

  She burst out laughing at his face, her amusement stifled as he turned a dark scowl her way.

  “Sorry,” she said meekly, a giggle escaping her lips as she drove out of the trailhead parking lot toward home.

  They were almost to her house when she suddenly pulled to the side of the road and quickly exited the vehicle. Opening the back, she retrieved something from her backpack and then walked quickly to the passenger side. Grinning at Rafe she opened his door but was greeted only with his stoic expression, a reminder that he was still not amused by her earlier antics.

  Reaching into the glove compartment she pulled out a folded map, motioning for him to follow as she stepped out in front of the Trax where the headlights pierced the darkness. Unfolding the map, she laid it out flat on the road.

  “We are back in my world now.”

 

‹ Prev