Though he knew the truth of her words, he would not entertain the conversation. The Witch Castes need not think he would ever be returning to their ranks. The pain of his mother’s betrayal of the Vampire, his father, and her own children remained with him. Lorcan refused to consider the witches’ claims of his mother’s innocence because the repercussions would be devastating.
He had loved his mother. His relationship had been closer with her than with his cold foreboding father, but all evidence pointed to her being the betrayer who brought the Dark into their home to slaughter his kin. She had left him and his brothers to suffer the same fate. This fact had been cemented in his consciousness as a lad and it had remained unchanged in over the two millennia that had passed. Lorcan was estranged from the Witch breed and would remain so out of duty to his Coven and honor to his father.
He deigned not to give her the satisfaction of arguing and answered her brusquely, “I need to feed.” Lorcan turned and let his anger goad him into flashing his extended fangs. In his now foul mood he took a bit of pleasure in the fear that flashed across her features. He raised a brow at her mockingly and added, “I will be returning to Breslein. If Myrrdyn has not found you by this eve when I return, I will take you back to your own holding.” With nothing more, he shadowed away.
A short time later, an enraged Myrrdyn did arrive to claim his family and launched a tirade at Vevila and Elfred over their foolishness at putting his grandchild in jeopardy. Before he could gain the full story of their rescue, his anger was stemmed as Kaitriana stumbled into the great hall. Yet another spider in tow, she beamed at him, “Grandpapa…I have a new friend.”
He made way to her, still piqued enough to offer her wayward parents a glare over his shoulder as he scooped the lass into his arms. Looking pointedly at the brown spider cradled calmly in her palm, he softened his demeanor immediately and questioned fondly, “And what is this fine friend’s name, my princess?”
Her eyes met with his as she proudly announced, “Lorcan…and he is good good Warrior. She whispered her secret to Grandpapa, her most favorite person in the whole Realm, “Lorcan is a good good Vampire…he not bad bad bad.” Myrrdyn, rarely shocked in his ancient existence, nearly dropped the girl as realization dawned that the spider pet was not her ‘new friend.’
He whirled on Vevila, fixing her with a killing glare, “As soon as I return you to your home, you will be answering for this.”
Sensing the tenseness of the situation and the upset of her Grandpapa, she patted his face with her free hand, soothingly, “Grandpapa, tis okay…Lorcan no chomp chomp chomp witches.” She smiled as she imparted the news, “And, he is Mine.” Kaitriana was certain she was a good good witch to been given such an important warrior and she affirmed, “Lorcan is mine, he say so…‘Yes’ he say.” She nodded as she proudly divulged that fact.
Myrrdyn let her wiggle free. As he watched her scamper off in search of more ‘friends’ he mulled over this latest revelation, wondering with glee how Lorcan felt about having been claimed by a Witch. The Warrior of Light had no idea he had today held his own destiny, literally.
Chuckling outloud, his disposition was greatly improved. Myrrdyn rubbed his hands together with delight before turning to face his daughter and her husband. His voice was stern, though a tiny sparkle remained in his eyes, “I will be having full account of this. We must return my grandchild to the protection of her Caste.”
CHAPTER 4
522 Years later
Kaitriana awoke abruptly; the disorientation from doing so nearly overwhelmed her ability to remain upright in the bed. The return of her senses, now heightened, made everything that much more intense after her extended slumber. Her limbs were shaking and she could not keep her hands still as she attempted to straighten herself further. Every part of her was having trouble readjusting to an awakened state. Her throat felt parched and an ache was beginning to find home in the base of her skull. Memories, given to her through the magic of Myrrdyn during the past five centuries were whirling in her head doing naught but causing the ache to build.
The rushing play of the visions was making it difficult for her to ascertain exactly where she was and her condition. She fell back to the pillows of her bed with an anguished moan, spying a large chalice at the table to the side of her bed…cup; her fostered memories brought the proper name to her. Her still trembling hands eased across the silken material of the coverings draping her. The coolness of the same helped calm her as she attempted to regain some sense of herself and composure to go along with it.
The recollections that were not her own had filtered into her subconscious during the time of her slumber, telling her the story of the happenings within the Realm as well as within the human world. Kaitriana felt as if she had lived them, felt as current with the times and the history of the Light and the Dark as though she had played a part.
She had not...she had been confined, powers bound for her own sake and the sake of the Realm, in a magically induced coma-like state. Kaitriana remembered vividly her grandfather’s eyes, filled with tears, as he had done this to her. His promise echoed through her head as if he had spoken the words just yesterday, “Kaitriana when you are strong enough to control the magic that has risen in you, when you can master it in your new form, it will be time. You will awaken and fulfill your destiny, the prophecy as the Chosen.”
Her mind wandered back from there. Her own memories and those of Myrrdyn encroached; unbidden and unwanted, she tucked her legs into her chest at the onslaught. She began rocking with the pain unleashed on her, tears forming and falling unchecked.
It had been the beginning of the Festival of the Moon, many years had passed since the Witch Castes had all gathered to celebrate the event. It would be her first experience, her entrance fully into the world of the Witch. Though twenty-six, her parents and Myrrdyn had kept her interaction with the Castes a rare occurrence, seeking to shelter her until her powers were fully realized.
At her insistent pleading, they had agreed it was time for her to take her place in the Witch faction and to come to this celebration. Her powers were peaking and she had been training hard with her Papa to perfect the Warrior magic passed to her from her father’s Caste. Elfred and Vevila thought her strength was limited to the powers of that Caste, that the Fire and Light abilities from her youth were too weak and unpredictable to use.
Like so many of the Witch breed, they also believed that the other born in the year of the Chosen would actually fulfill the prophecy. Kaitriana and Myrrdyn, a secret between the two, had known otherwise. In his presence she had mastered her other powers, near perfecting her control of them. Yet the magic had continued to rise in her, the extent of her strength astonishing even her ancient grandfather. She had been exhibiting powers from every Caste and even Myrrdyn had not realized the Prophecy would give rise to such greatness.
Given that she had been kept from the Castes, the assumption within the Witch order had been that Myrrdyn’s grandchild was a disappointment. Rumors abounded that she was hidden because she was weak and that the Sorcerer of Light was embarrassed. The natural inclination was to afford the title of Chosen to the other born in the same year, Cordelia. The young witch was a stunning beauty and she showed promise in mastering the magic from three of the seven Castes.
Given that Kaitriana had been kept from them, the few that remembered encountering her could only describe her as unremarkable in appearance and power. The consensus was that only a witch possessing both the power and the beauty blessed on Cordelia could invoke the full prophecy and lead a mighty warrior within the Vampire clan to forget the animosity between the two factions and take the Chosen as his mate. Some even were bold enough to offer that the beauty of Cordelia would tempt even the mighty Warrior of Light to forget the supposed treachery of his mother and take the Chosen for his own.
None had been aware that the power of Kaitriana’s magic was already near strong enough to surpass Myrrdyn, nor were they aware that the lass had
blossomed physically as well. The mouse brown hair that had been untamable in her youth had developed into midnight black, a gloss of curls that danced down to her waist. Her ice blue eyes, the most remarkable thing about the witch, were now framed by thick sooty lashes that enhanced the beauty of the unique color. Though still plagued by the freckles painted on the bridge of her nose, an extremely rare occurrence for an immortal, they now served to highlight her pert little features, the sweep of her high cheekbones, and the creamy texture of her pale skin.
She had grown to the height of her mother, nearly five and a half feet. Kaitriana’s hours of warrior training had kept her body slim and taut with muscle, though there was a lush curve to the form of her hips and chest. Although Myrrdyn focused only on the beauty of her magic, he was aware that his grandchild was fine enough to tempt any vampire, especially the Warrior of Light.
The arrival of Myrrdyn and his family at the Festival of the Moon had been eagerly anticipated. Nearly all of the Witch Castes milled about in order to catch glimpse of the group as soon as they might arrive. None would ever be brave enough to speak in the presence of Myrrdyn about the dissatisfaction that must plague him over the unacceptable offspring his line had produced, but all had been eager to witness and gossip about the same.
Even Cordelia had been impatient to see the girl that had been her rival, so that all present would officially acknowledge her place as the Chosen and shower her with the praise and benefits that she expected would come with it. She was not true of heart as most of the Witch had been fooled to believe by her beauty and easy smiles. Her own Caste well knew her for her temper and spite, caused much by the doting of her parents and the elders within the Nature Caste.
The Warrior, Fire and Light Castes were considered the most prestigious within the Realm, as they were the most effective in combating the evil Vampire forces. The rise of the potential Chosen within the Nature Caste had been a source of much pride for the elders. They were so often easily dismissed by the other Castes given the perceived lack of strength in their magic. Cordelia’s birth had instantly elevated their status in the Realm and her parents had been quick to capitalize on the newfound glory. The Caste had given rise to a beautiful witch, but one with a dark heart and that realization was just now coming to her own kin. None would dare speak against her now, not even the elders, as her powers continued to rise and foolhardy few risked the girl’s ire.
Cordelia had held court in what she assumed was a her rightful place in the center of the gathering, making jests about her rival to her circle of friends. She was oblivious or pointedly ignoring the stares of censure being directed her way over her poor remarks. Her disparagement even went towards Myrrdyn, and to disrespect the Sorcerer of Light was great arrogance or foolishness personified.
As they approached the gathering, Myrrdyn had cautioned Kaitriana to show great restraint in exercising her powers, but her excitement as they grew closer had blue light dancing at her fingertips and an unnatural wind picking up. Myrrdyn shot her a look of disapproval and Kaitriana quickly subdued the magic. No power had been evident in her as they had made the rise of the hill, meeting with the expectant faces of thousands of Witch. Upon seeing the crowd and the singularity of their gaze directed to him and his grandchild, Myrrdyn conceded to his own arrogance and made use of his magic to transport them to the very center of the gathering. His ancient frame nearly knocked Cordelia out of her chosen spot, his tone as dismissive as the look her gave her, “Excuse me, girl.”
Myrrdyn smirked and Cordelia instantly had the uneasy feeling that the Sorcerer knew every word that she had been proffering to her crowd of friends prior to his arrival. She was indignant over his remark though, girl indeed. Even he must realize she would be assuming his position as the most feared and respected witch in the Realm. She had given him a patronizing look in return.
Cordelia had been nearly oblivious to the growing murmurs of the crowd around her. Kaitriana had pushed back the hood of her cloak and was smiling with shy warmth to those within her view. It had not taken long for Cordelia to realize that the attention of the crowd had been focused on another and she had shot the other female a scowl before she could school her features otherwise for the benefit of her audience. Cordelia had been shocked to see the enchanting beauty on Myrrdyn’s arm, the witch’s dark looks were in total contrast to the golden hair and green eyes that were common to Cordelia’s Caste. This one’s appearance was common to none within the Realm, Kaitriana was unique.
It had ruffled Cordelia before she recalled that the beauty of the witch mattered not, Cordelia had established herself within the Realm. Myrrdyn’s grandchild had done neither that, nor proven any skill with magic. If the rumors were true, and Cordelia held great respect for the power of rumors, the young witch possessed only the power of a single Caste. Nonetheless, Cordelia had refused to tolerate the presence of the other in her own circle and she had offered Kaitriana a pitying smile before turning rudely in the opposite direction. Her devoted friends trailed in her wake.
Through Myrrdyn’s teachings, Kaitriana had grown not only in the strength of her magic but also in character. Though she might offer the appearance of a tiny beauty that would require the strength and protection of a Warrior, she was capable of protecting herself in all manners, even from spiteful, jealous witches. She had categorized Cordelia immediately as such but had easily dismissed her upset over it. Kaitriana was not to let the wonder of the night be ruined, nor would she have deigned to act any lower than the right of her birth required as Myrrdyn’s heir.
Her smile had grown warmer and unchecked mirth affected her words, “Well, that did not go quite well at all.” Her statement had been for her grandfather, but had been picked up on by those close and quickly bandied about by the crowd. Despite the birthright passed to her by Myrrdyn, she had not appeared the haughty bitch that her rival was. The belief had been fostered throughout the first night of the festival, as she made her way through the crowds at the side of the Sorcerer.
The second night of the Festival had progressed much the same; the popularity of Kaitriana with the crowd had been staggering and that was before she had accidentally allowed the witnessing of her power.
Many of the witches had congregated near a loch at the edge of the gathering as twilight was passing over into the dark. Wine was being consumed in great volumes - the Witch did love their drink- and the mood was merry. Cordelia had been present, passing a malevolent gaze to Kaitriana every few moments and Myrrdyn had remained for a time, across the clearing from his grandchild. Kaitriana’s parents had made an encampment deep into the recesses of the woods though, well clear of the revelry of the Festival. Keeping their daughter from the gatherings of the Witch had never been taxing for either. They were both solitary in nature, preferring their own company to others and had been happily confined to that existence by the birth of their daughter.
The evening had aged and the assembly dwindled; the chill of the night and the overindulgence in their cups had sent many to an early end. A few handfuls of witches had remained in the area. Kaitriana had found a spot on high rocks near the edges of the water and from her perch was thoroughly engaged in a lighthearted conversation with Kendrick, the heir apparent to the Warrior Caste. The young male witch seemed unaffected by the fact that her appearance at the celebration might signal threat to his assumed position. Kaitriana was enjoying well her flirtation, though she had been struggling to keep her mind from going elsewhere.
She had heard talk among the elders that a contingent of the Vampire and the Warrior of Light would be seeking them later that same night. One of the elders, unbeknownst to Myrrdyn, had even made the suggestion to Kaitriana that she make a brief appearance upon arrival of the group. Kaitriana had eagerly agreed, ready to renew her acquaintance with the Vampire warrior. To one originating from the Warrior Caste, the tales of Lorcan and his battles had been especially enthralling. Despite him being Vampire, his mother had held the seat of authority over the Warrior Ca
ste and the group would still like to make some claim to him, if only through the retelling of his heroics.
While Kaitriana had maintained just a few memories of Lorcan from the day that he rescued her and her injured papa from the Dark, she had remembered him more fully from the night he had visited her Uncle’s home. The shocked look from the normally unflappable warrior as she had made a face and then waved goodbye to him had brought her much amusement.
Through the tales of his battles and her fond memories of their brief encounters, she had developed quite a bit of secret adoration for the vampire. The fact that he was the most handsome male she had laid eyes on certainly did not hurt either. The thought of seeing him again had set her toes to tapping against the stone. In hindsight, she had been certain that the rambling good humor of Kendrick and her distraction over the thoughts of Lorcan had resulted in her sensing the evil only seconds before it had shadowed into their gathering. Two Dark warriors, with the ability to shadow quickly through the group to reach their intended target, had been on Cordelia before Kaitriana had time to gain her feet.
Without thought of control and in her anger at their boldness to intrude on an entire gathering of the Witch, Kaitriana’s powers had sparked. Lightning had rent the night sky as they came on fully; blue light danced wickedly over her fingertips. Before either foe could bring sword to Cordelia’s throat, Kaitriana had knocked them three hundred yards distance from the nearest witch with the barest flick of wrist. Balls of blue light followed in rapid succession setting each foe aflame.
Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series Page 3
