The Fire Within (The Fire of The Soul Series)

by Racquel Kechagias

  I hear the two start talking in hushed tones, and as I strain to hear them, I hear that they are speaking in a language that I cannot understand. It's useless to struggle to hear them, and so I try to block them out. They continue the conversation, and I'm simply – to coin a phrase – 'hanging' around. It's a while before they move from their spots; their moving is the first sign of their departure. I don't know where they have gone to, or why, but all I know is that they have gone, the other's haven't woken, and I try to fall back to sleep again, with the blood flowing to my head it is a simple and easy task, and because of it, darkness is swallowing me whole again.

  I can barely see a thing when I wake. It is pitch black, but I can feel the vines that have been holding me hostage slowly breaking as something rips it apart. I try to look over my shoulder, but cannot see anything so instead; I turn to Seth, Reece and Bradley, and see that there are knife-wielding forest vampires cutting away at the vines. The two from before have return plus two others, one of those other two being a woman. The four vampires finish cutting away at the vines, and the four of us drop to the ground. Seth, Reece and Bradley awake at the last minute before they fall, and are just able to prevent themselves from slapping against the ground head-first.

  The forest vampires roughly drag us to our feet, before they starting pushing us along with the sheer force of their trunk-like arms. The three male vampires are tall, strong and incredibly huge not to mention a dark brown in the light, which is only barely visible in the firelight that they have brought with them. The woman however is small compared to the men, though that is to be expected though she is much taller than Anna. It is clear that she is not one of the forest vampires, but they seem to welcome her, and I hope that this is a good sign, though I have no idea what that sign could be.

  I stare at her in wonder as we continue to tread the forest grounds, being led one by one by the forest vampire men, who follow behind us to make sure that we do not escape. I'm mesmerized by the female's beauty; it's as if she is as radiant as the sun with white skin that could have been made from the moon that guards the night. Her red hair burns brighter than the fire that guides us, and her bright eyes sparkle like the stars, her pearly teeth are evenly matched as if they were strings of pearls. She is everything that is beautiful, and it is with a sudden realization that I know who she is, or should I say what she is, she's an Immortal, very rarely seen in the Underworld as there are very few left of them. Some are classified as angels, some as demons, and some are simply human, elevated to live an everlasting life in the world of shadows and monsters. The female who guides me talks in a very hushed voice that sounds like the mockingbirds of the 'No-mans' lands.

  "Hello Pure Prince," The female says, her completely white eyes stare into mine.

  "Hello Lady Lasting, you may call me Victor," I say, staring into her white eyes. She smiles softly at me, as she dips her head in acknowledgement.

  "Well Victor, most simply call me the Raven but you may call me by my name," She says, her head dipped as if in prayer.

  "And what is your name, dear Lady Lasting," I asked of the fair maiden, she smiles sweetly at me and lifts her head.

  "My name is Fey; I have come here to persuade the vampires to not fall pray to the Skin-walkers. I did not know that you had come here to seek their assistance in the war. My people have seen the battles that you mortals face, I know your strengths and weaknesses Pure Prince, and I know that you have only just begun to make alliances. I also know that the Skin-walkers have started far before you, made alliances centuries, eons ago with the Shape-shifters, werewolves and phantoms. You have little time to make your alliances so I suggest you give it your all. My people will not get involved with the war, we cannot afford to lose anyone else to your mortal wars, but I will send my blessings with you, dear Pure Prince, and with your consort; may she be protected from the darkness of the Skin-walker king." She pauses for a moment as one of the forest vampires look at us, staring at the Lady Lasting in curiosity as to why he can hear her speaking. When he looks away she leans back into my ear and continues to speak.

  "You must understand though Pure Prince, that if you were seeking war with anyone other than the Skin-walkers, that I would end you and your friends right now, whether it is by my own hands, or that of the forest Vampires. The Underworld needs to be united, every living kingdom needs to work as one, because there is a force much more sinister than the Skin-walkers, and seeking much more than simply bedding this worlds maidens. You need to unite this world, Pure Prince, as there is darkness beyond what you can see, in a world where my people are trying to do all that we can to control the darkness, but it is too strong, and soon it will leak out into the Underworld. There are dark times ahead, Pure Prince; I pray that you find the strength to be able to rise against it." Fey says, before we fall into silence, she refuses to give me a chance to answer her. We continue to walk on in silence, dragged on by the vines that still bind our hands.

  I wonder what she is talking about, the darkness just beyond our reach, just beyond our sight. A darkness that is unknown, unbearable. A darkness that is worse than the Skin-walkers. To me it's impossible to think of anything worse than the Skin-walkers, but the Immortals are not afraid of the Skin-walkers, and there was pure fear in her voice, in her white eyes. That fear that is tangible in the air is so evident to me, that I cannot help but shudder at the thought of this uncontrollable darkness. I wonder how she knows of Anna, and what else she knows, I wonder what an Immortals experience with the world is like, is it detached, or are they unable to separate with the world, or is it perhaps, a little bit of both. These thoughts fill my head as we continue to get dragged along, in the near distance I can see a bright light coming from the ground, and I know that we have almost reached their camp.

  I wonder what the forest vampires will think of our arrival, what they will think of having Pure vampires – whether turned or born – in the camps mean, or will they simply be hostile and kill us on the spot, without warning and without cause, simply because they hate us for what happened to their ancestors eons ago. All these thoughts fill my head as we continue to get closer toward the camp. I wonder what will happen to Anna, what she will feel once she finds out about my death. We are mere meters away from their camp now, the forest vampires is cutting down leaves, and making a path for us to walk through as we near the camp.

  Every cell in my body is pulsing; every vein in my body is pumping blood so fast that I can feel my heart racing beneath my skin. My mind is overloading with thoughts, till it gets to the point where I can only think of my imminent death, as soon as I find myself in front of the warming fire. These people, these forest vampires, whom my people shunned from the vampire city, are now about to deliver my death sentence and I can feel it quickly approaching me.

  We are now kneeling before the fire. My head is forced up to look at a group of Elders sitting in a table before the fire. One of the four forest vampires holds a knife to my throat and I can feel their warm breath against my ear.

  "Stay still, Pure Prince. I will not allow any harm to come to you, but you need to trust me." Fey's soft voice breaths against my ear, I smile softly and breath "I trust you," though it's hoarse and croaky.

  I look up into the eyes of the middle Elder, and know that out of all them, out of all of the elders sitting before me, he is the one, the one to deliver my death blow, and for a moment our eyes connect. His hold no emotion, no apology, and in his eyes I see my death.

  Chapter 15 – Uncharted Waters

  Kayden's P.O.V

  The trek to the shoreline is not as treacherous as it could have been. It is - in my experience - a rather relaxing journey. We are sheltered in the villages and within people’s homes during the hours of the evening, and before dawn we are back on our horses, and continuing on our path. We are lucky to be given this mission, in the sense of the making the journey from kingdom to shore. I keep in mind to talk to the townsmen, to encourage them to take up arms for the sake of their
king and kingdom, and for the sake of keeping their families safe from the terror of the Skin-walkers.

  Some are easier to convince, whereas others are harder, whether it is because of a hysterical wife or sister, or the need to protect their families at home. At times it takes only a little convincing to make them understand the importance of our request on Victor's behalf, and at times it takes Jocelyn's loving and understanding nature to help the women cope with the request. I have no idea what Jocelyn says or does exactly to make the hysterical women understand, but I can tell that she understands my gratefulness the many times when our eyes meet across the room.

  However for the past day we have been travelling through an empty place, nameless to us but we make it our own as we traverse through it. We travel for hours without rest, and in the two or three times that we did stop it is to relieve ourselves, and to allow the horses to rest. By the time that the afternoon is ending, we are beginning to make plans to camp when I spot a house in the distance, it is a single lonely cabin in the vast grasslands, but I can feel Scott, Edgar and most of all Jocelyn's gratefulness for the sight.

  I can tell that the house is not abandoned by the sight of smoke coming out of it's chimney, and when I order Scott to go before us, and ask the residents if we may stay the night, he is gone before I can say another word. Jocelyn, Edgar and I share a look that says more than words ever can, before we continue on our way, a little bit faster now with a near destination in sight.

  There are times when words have little meaning, and times when our actions speak louder than words. Our actions of moving forward, was enough to speak volumes. We urge the horses on, racing against the setting of the sun, racing against the clock so to speak. I can feel the wind in my hair, my tight fighting gear sticking to me, almost like a second skin in the harsh winds that we push through. As I turn to my right I can see Jocelyn's hair flying behind her, like a scarlet flag flapping in the wind. To my left is Edgar; strong, broad and silent Edgar with skin like coffee and cream.

  I can feel my breath bubbling up within me, until I let out a whoop of joy as I race through the grasslands on Thunder, my black stallion. I can barely hear a thing over the roaring wind, but turning to my right again, I can see Jocelyn making clicking sounds at Latte - her light brown mare - and to my left Edgar is stroking the dark, almost black rump of Jet; Edgar's stallion. Star, Scott's Horse, must have had a shot of adrenalin racing through his veins consider how fast they had disappeared.

  Twilight descends upon us as we travel up the dirt path to the house. The lights are burning bright now, and we can hear laughter, and music coming from within. The soft, sweet sounds of a violin being played reach us from the front porch, and the voice of a woman sings sweetly at heavenly heights. Hearing the woman's voice, a horrid, spine tingling memory rises to the front of my mind.

  Darkness and pain is all that I know. Darkness, pain and a voice as sweet as the angels, if they exist. My eyes see nothing within the darkness, but I can feel her soft, sweet hands caressing me, healing me, nurturing me back to perfection as her voice sings sweetly, healing me in ways that go deeper than flesh and bone. Her voice is all that I want, no need to hear, for all of eternity. If only it was possible to tell her how I feel, to show her what I wish could be. She sings of freedom and the future in the 'High Lands'. I can almost picture a perfect place, a place without sorrow or darkness, where she could be mine. My dear sweet Angeline.

  Jocelyn looks at me in concern, her dark amber eyes burning brightly in the twilight. I shake my head swiftly, one slight motion to tell her not to ask. There is concern in her eyes, and I know that she wants to help me, to take away whatever pain there must be in my eyes. Pulling myself together I turn away from her, and rap my knuckles against the door; once, twice, thrice. The music abruptly halts at the sound of my knocking. There is the noise of shuffling skirts, and muffled voices, and then the creak of the door opening.

  A soft, mousy brown eye appears through the crack. When whoever had open the door saw that we were a part of the Kings warriors, the door opens wider, and I can see that it is a young girl, no older than fourteen. Her hair falls in soft golden brown curls, her skin a light blush of pink and her lips are, as all vampires lips are, scarlet red. She is a small thing, petite but it is clear that she is no child but a young, growing woman.

  "Can I help you Sir?" She asks, and her voice is delicate, light like air.

  "Yes, Can I come in for a moment, Miss?" I ask politely, it is always best to handle young women like her with care.

  "Of course Sir, and its Miss Mazurow, Helen Mazurow," The young girl says opening the door wide open for us, and allowing us to enter into the building. Before we can enter Edgar comes bounding up the steps from tying our horses to a tree branch. We enter into the house as a group, and Helen shows us the lounge room, where we find Scott sitting on the couch, a man sitting on a stool with the violin in his hands, and one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her hair comes down in dark curls, which fall down to the bottom of her bust. Her dark brown eyes, burn brightly in the candle light, but shine with memories of a past that I know we have shared. Her crimson lips, look smooth, kissable like velvet. Her velvet lips pull up into a smile.

  "How can I help you good Sirs and Madam?" The Older woman says, and I deflate quickly, as the hope of her saying my name, of her recognizing me goes up in smoke.

  "Madam, as my friend here may have told you we need a place to stay for the night. Your house is the only one in miles, and we were hoping that you could offer us sanctuary from the night," I say, before she inclines her head in understand.

  "Of course, our home is always open for the services of the King. This is my servant Jed, my personal, walking 'blood-bag' if you will. You've met my daughter Helen, and I am Angeline. Dinner will be ready quite soon. Please sit, Jed, Helen and I were entertaining ourselves," Angeline says, and I look up into her eyes hoping, hoping that she recognizes me, but the ghosts of me and our past have fled from her eyes, and the recognition I was hoping from her is nowhere to be seen.

  From the corner of my eye I see Jocelyn moving to take a seat next to Scott, and as she brushes past me, I can feel the cold hard energy radiating from her. Her anger burning through her veins lashes out at me, and I sense that somehow I've disappointed her, and that I've made her angry, though I have no idea as to why.

  Time flies by as I listen to Jed 'the blood-bag' play violin, and Angeline and Helen singing. We are alerted for dinner, and we move out from the lounge room to the dinning room were the house-maid has laid out dinner for all of us. A platting of fried pork, vegetables and potato's are dished out to us, plus a dish of gravy, and a bottle or two of wine are placed upon the table with our glasses. I sit at the end of the table facing Angeline, with Edgar and Jocelyn on either side of me. Scott and Helen are sitting on either side of Angeline, and thus this is how we are seated.

  We eat in silence as my men and I fill our bellies. I notice that instead of eating the food, Angeline is feeding off of Jed's arm, her vampire teeth deep within his skin. We can all here Jed's low moans, almost guttural groans like that of an animal's. I can tell that Scott and Edgar want to take a bite of Jed, but I cannot sense the need for blood, for I am not a vampire, and thus I do not lust for that crimson drug as they do.

  When dinner is done, the plates taken away, and Jed sent to eat to replenish his own human needs, we sat at the table in silence. "Angeline, I want to thank you for what you are doing for us tonight. I know that you do not know us, and thus the deed your doing is of even greater value. I must confess that tonight is the last night of a short journey for us."

  "And where, if I may ask, is your headed destination? There is nothing out in these parts besides..." Angeline starts to say, her eyes darkening as the Mer-people territory came to mind.

  "Atlantis, the Mer-kingdom. That is indeed our destination. We are on a mission for our King, Victor Menédez. I'm sure you are aware of the problem within our world, the Skin-walkers
to be precise. King Menédez has declared war upon the Skin-walkers. Thus why we are out here, on our way to Atlantis; to recruit people to fight in the war against the poison within our world. If there were men within your household I would have been asking them to join us in the war, as it is we can only recruit females who can fight or heal."

  "And you would like to recruit our help, Sir," Helen asks, her questioning, mouse brown eyes turning to me.

  "If you and your mother have the ability to heal, then yes we are in need of your assistance," I sigh on a final breath. I have to admit the thought of whether Angelina would offer her assistance, and then when it came to me I banish it from my mind. What does it matter to me if she would want to help or not, she is a memory from my past, something to be forgotten, and though she sits before me now, I still have no need to bring up the ghosts of the past.