Empyreal: Awaken - Book One
Page 1
Empyreal: Awaken - Book One
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Empyreal: Awaken - Book One (Second Edition)
Christal M. Mosley
Copyright Christal M. Mosley
Published by WheelMan Press at Smashwords
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Dedicated to
Tripp, my son, you are my every inspiration
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
Prologue
Coralie remained still, silently in the night, her eyes closed tight. She could hear them. She knew that it wouldn't be long. She began to tense as she could hear them nearing. She struck out against the night air, feeling it rush against her. She was running now ... running fast ... faster and faster.
They won't get away ... faster, run faster ... Coralie told herself. Faster, run faster...
Trees, shrubs, street lamps, houses, buildings, park cars...all just a background of fading darkness in her peripheral view, combining into one long, dark blur.
There they are ... up ahead ... she said to herself. Tunnel vision had seemed to take her over, so that all she could see was them.
Closer and closer, she approached them, but she continued to push herself to run even faster, with each step and stride.
I'm getting closer ... Coralie thought, as she began to feel herself tense as she prepared to meet her fleeing opponents. She felt a rush of tension, like a predator zoning in and closing on its prey, ready to pounce. The hunt is almost over, and the 'kill' will be quick ... she thought, feeling her muscles tense predatorily.
Either her opponents had begun to slow or she was gaining ground. Probably the latter. They slowed to a halt & turned ... but Coralie had leapt into the air, meeting them where they stood. Coralie gave a stunning jab with her extended arm that was stretched out beyond her body. The one she struck first, stumbled back a few spaces, and then began to advance on her. Coralie leapt into the air once more, this time landing her outstretched heel into the chest of her adversary.
Stumbling backward, her challenger fell to the ground, hard, but not hard enough. The staggering body returned to its feet and began its advancement upon the girl.
Coralie heard movement now from the east and west of her. Three ... there are three ... great ... she said to herself. She crouched into a defensive stance, and awaited her advancers. She jumped into the air, coming down onto two of them with a crushing blow, causing them to tumble to the ground. She stood, quickly, throwing a jab into the side of the other, knocking their body into a tree. Commencing in a firm stance and planting her feet solidly on the ground, she beckoned their return to joining her fight. They began their unsteadily stagger back towards her. Coralie grinned confidently.
Without hesitance, instinctively, Coralie threw a stunning punch into the gut of the one on that came at her from her left. She tensed again, throwing a jabbing left punch into the side of the one approaching her from the right. As the two fell against the hard ground, the third advanced on her quickly, slugging towards her. Coralie ducked swiftly, dodging a blow. She jumped speedily to her feet, delivering a reciprocating knock backwards, causing her rival to slam hard against a tree trunk and fall even harder to the ground.
Coralie looked at the pounded heaps that lie on the ground. She perused her surroundings, taking inventory of those who took occupancy on the leaf covered ground around her. One of them started to move, as the others lay motionless.
Slowly walking toward their pummeled bodies, Coralie reached behind her back retrieving her weapon of choice, her ancient Makhaira sword. She could feel its power exuding as she held it tight within her hands.
Coralie felt the tension in her muscles begin to relax. She looked down at them, as the powering glow of her sword illuminated her face in the dark. With the radiance that surrounded them, she could see the look of blatant fear on the face of her wakeful foe. Holding her sword high above her, pointing downward, she flashed an angelic, conquering smirk.
Chapter 1
Coralie opened her eyes to a slight peek of daylight, peering through her window. She gently rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes, quietly rolled out of bed, and walked over to her window, from which the light came.
The street lamps were still on and the sky was just beginning to show signs of daylight's return. The peeking rays were giving off just enough light to illumine the difference between the street and the moisture that lay atop its surface.
How beautiful, she thought to herself, wondering how many others never get to see the beauty that is daybreak. Just then, tugging her from her own thoughts was a dark movement, a figure. The figure was wearing dark clothing and dark shoes, with one garment that seemed to be a hooded sweatshirt, hovering over their face.
Even though she was watching from her bedroom window, Coralie felt her chest tighten with familiar uneasiness.
The figure neared her house, walking in a hurried pace, and began to bound up her front steps. The figure jumped onto the top step of her front porch and paused to shrug the hooded sweatshirt from their head.
Dad ... she sighed, relaxing the tightness at the sight of her father, Cal Collier.
She made her way downstairs, quietly descending them one by one. As she rounded the corner to the kitchen, she could hear her father rummaging through the refrigerator. She paused at the door, before entering the kitchen door, just long enough to pull her dark golden, chin-length hair into a short sprig of a ponytail.
“Mom's leftover spaghetti, second shelf,” Coralie said, as she entered the kitchen.
Startled, he looked up, but quickly relaxed after recognizing the voice that had spoken was his daughter's. “Hey, Honey! Thanks...” he said as he pulled the container from the refrigerator.
“What are you doing up so early?” Coralie said, looking at her father as she watched him spoon out heaps of spaghett
i onto a plate.
“I could ask you the same thing ... couldn't I?” he countered, with a playful raised eyebrow, and handed her a plate of cold spaghetti.
“Thanks,” she said taking the plate, “but I asked you first ... What you are doing up at the crack of dawn...”
“You first...” he mumbled, trying not to smile through his bite of spaghetti, motioning that he couldn't talk with a 'mouthful'. Swallowing, he added, “Don't you have some rule about Saturdays and before the sun rises,” then quickly crammed in another mouthful.
“No movement until the sun's been shining for at least four hours...” Coralie said with a smirk, taking her first bite.
“Right – I thought it was it something like that...” Cal playfully nodded.
“Don't alert the press just yet, the rule is still in effect until further notice, but, ... I've been having these dreams...”
“Dreams...”
“Yeah ... like these weird, strangely realistic, dreams...”
Something in her tone intrigued Cal. “What kind of 'weird' dreams?” he asked, leaning in towards the island countertop.
“It's nothing Dad, it's stupid, it's nothing ... really...”
Coralie looked up to find her father, who was standing directly across from her, armed with a fork-stabbed meatball. “I'm not afraid to use this...” he said playfully stern, with his most concentrated look.
“Okay, okay ... meatball assassin...” Coralie started, jokingly. “These dreams ... I don't know ... they're all the same, but somehow all different ... I know that I'm talking in circles, but...”
“Come on, Cor ... What? Humor your old man...” Cal pressed.
She sighed, fearing how her words might sound to someone else's ears. But this wasn't just anyone, she had to remind herself. This was her father.
“They're all in first person, my dreams ... I see and feel everything ... every little bit of action that happens, I'm a part of it...”
“Action, you say? What kind of ... action?” he asked, interested in her continuance.
“Like fighting action ... I'm talking about chase scenes, fight scenes ... where I'm kicking some serious tail...” Coralie broke off, only to press forward upon cue of her father's questioning eyes. “But I always wake up feeling like there is something that I need to finish, like there's more of the fight left, like it's still out there somewhere ... or, I don’t know ... like I'm missing some pieces to a puzzle...,” and with that, she allowed her words to trail off.
“Coralie –” Cal started, but was interrupted.
“See, I told you it was stupid ... I know ... I guess I really need to stop watching those silly superhero movies before I go to bed, huh?” she rambled.
“Coralie, honey, your dreams ... they're not stupid or silly ... tell me something ... how long have you been having these ... dreams?” Cal questioned his daughter.
“A few weeks ... maybe more ... It's just that they're so real, you know...like I'm witnessing everything first hand, like it's me who is experiencing the fight...”
“Good Morning, Troops! I assume my memo about the early dawn meeting got lost by the carrier – thankfully,” Coralie's mother, Katelyn, said jokingly, entering the kitchen.
Katelyn began to make her way to the coffee pot, stopping on her way to kiss each of them on the forehead – bending over to Coralie, who was planted in a stool, then walking to the opposite side of the island to Cal, lifting onto her tippy-toes to reach him. “Do I need to consult the meeting minutes or can you guys just fill me in? What did I miss? Is everything okay?”
“Everything's fine...” Coralie said, not wanting to bother her mother with such on a day like this one.
“Coralie's having ... dreams...” Cal provided the answer that Coralie refused to give. In response, Coralie looked dumbfounded by this, not expecting her father to give her secrets up so easily. Not that she minded really.
“Dreams?” Katelyn asked, giving Cal the questioned look instead of Coralie. Then as she shifted her focus back to Coralie, she asked, “What kind of dreams, dear? Scary, disturbing, or just plain silly? You know, like the ones that make you say 'Hmmm'...”
Coralie snickered lightly at her mother, who was now sipping her coffee. “Mostly like the latter, I guess...” she answered, “...some like the others that you mentioned, though ... they're all pretty much the same in scenario, just different scenes.”
“Do you have these ... experiences – I mean, dreams, every night?” Katelyn asked her daughter.
“No... not every night...” Coralie answered, honestly, shrugging her shoulders.
“But you do remember these dreams vividly ... yes?” Katelyn continued to press.
“Most of the time...but not always...the experience itself feels real to me ... but when I wake up, even though I can remember most of it, I still feel like some of the dream is missing, like either it was unfinished or like ... maybe I just lost it, like it's just gone...” Coralie once again, allowed her words to trail off. She could hear how senseless her words sounded in her own mind, yet her parents did not seem to react as though they had heard something all that foolish.
Cal's voice broke the tension. “Well, Cor ... since you're dreaming of being an action, street-fighter hero ... maybe, just maybe, you could be the next karate kid ... what do you think? I mean ... I don't really know if I can pull off the whole ‘Bow to your Sensei thing’ ... It’s just not me … I don’t think … but I guess I could take a stab at it,” he said, attempting a bow. “No, doesn’t feel natural...”
Coralie and Katelyn both snickered, at his continuance.
“Yeah, sure, Dad...I'll work on that...” Coralie said through a chuckle, “But you know, I think I would be a much better break-dancing ninja...” she added with a huge grin, jumping atop the kitchen island and sending herself spinning on her back. After a few rotations, she spun around and hopped off the open counter top, landing to her feet. What may have, otherwise, struck some parents as insanity, sent laughter through both of her parents.
“I think I'm going to run back up stairs and see if I can't kick some more villain tail in my sleep ... I wonder how many others can do that?” she said jokingly, and she started out of the kitchen doorway.
“Okay, Hon – but don't exert too much energy... we've got the Benefit at the University tonight...” Katelyn called up to her daughter, as she listened to her prance up the staircase. Coralie turned just long enough to shout an 'okay' from the top of the stairs, and then jet into her bedroom.
Coralie walked into her room and looked toward her window. The sun had started to peer radiantly through. She crawled into her bed, turned over, and then covered her face with her favorite quilt – one that her great grandmother made for her when she was just a baby.
She took a deep breath inward ... No matter how many times she had washed it, the quilt still smelled of Great's house.
From what she remembered ...
Coralie sighed at this … memories were not her strong suit.
Her bedroom door was still cracked. She drifted off back to sleep to the sound of her parents' murmurs traveling up the staircase from the kitchen.
Coralie began to descend into unconsciousness and her parents' voices had become a collage of unrecognizable words that had been strung together.
“How long has it been?” Katelyn asked her husband. “Surely, we have not lost track...”
“A while ... but I’m not so sure ... I can't be certain ... do you think she has become immune to – I mean, maybe it just quit working, or –” Cal babbled.
“Maybe... I don't know ... Cal, do you think ... that maybe it's,” Katelyn stumbled around for words, “... time?”
“No – No, Kate ... not yet ... she's not ready!” Cal said, grasping at words of expression.
Katelyn walked over to his side, where he had taken a seat atop an island bar stool, and put her arms around his neck. She leaned in close and spoke the words, “She's not ready, Cal, or you're not ready?
”
He sighed at his wife’s words, knowing there could be truth to them.
Chapter 2
“Hey Mom, Dad ... I'm running out to the library...” Coralie shouted, as she descended the stairs that ran up the middle of her families' foyer.
“What, honey?” Coralie heard her mother shout from the back of the house.
“I'm running to the library, I've got to grab a book for Lit class ... I promise I'll be back in time to get ready for the Benefit, okay?” Coralie waited hopeful and patiently for her mother's answer.
“Wait – Cor, if you'll give me just a half-hour, I can drive you.” Katelyn shouted once more from her room in the back of the house, bargaining with her daughter. “Or what about Dad? I'm sure he can drive you ... Cal...”
“No, Mom, really ... it's just a few blocks to Clark Street. I'll be back in less than an hour.” It was actually closer to seven blocks, but the word 'few' sounded better than the word 'seven' in this negotiation.
In another attempt at a bargain, Katelyn come around the corner from her bedroom, stopping to look at Coralie. “Honey, really, it's no trouble to me … just give me a few more minutes...”
Coralie tried her own attempt at haggling. “Mom, really ... I can go now and be back quicker than waiting on you to get finished. You have so much to do before tonight … I'll be quick, I promise!”
“Cor, ... you know that I don't like you going off by yourself, ... it's just not safe.” Katelyn said, making her way down the hallway toward her daughter.
“Mom, I'm a big girl ... I can take care of myself...”
Katelyn paused in front of her daughter, looking into her brilliant and clear blue eyes. “I know that you are not a little girl anymore...” she said with a smile, “but, I still worry about you.”