Seta's Fall

by Crystal-Rain Love

  Eron’s eyes narrowed as his complexion reddened. “It is. You will see in time.”

  “We should get on,” Christian interjected. “No sense giving the sun the advantage.”

  “Yes, we should go,” Eron agreed. “First we need to gather new attire for our new acquaintance. It appears her beloved ruined her dress and left her with nothing else.”

  Seta gasped. “How dare you mock me! I did not ask you for this alleged gift you decided on your own to bestow on me.”

  “You would prefer to never see your son again? You would prefer another woman raise him and he not know the truth of his birth at any time? It is you who needs to bite her tongue. I have given you a life with him. It is not my fault you lack patience.”

  “In death I would have slept,” she snapped. “You have given me a prolonged stay in hell, a life of knowing my son is with the man who murdered me and his scheming wife. You have given me pain and suffering.”

  “Pain is a blessing, Seta. It means you are here to feel it, and that you may give it in return when the time is right. You will be avenged as I have promised. You must stop directing your anger at those who would help you and hold it for the day it can be unleashed on your enemies!”

  Seta turned away, warring within herself. She knew even in death she would ache for her son and there was no guarantee the pain would not be as great. Someone had to pay for what had been taken from her and they would not allow her to storm the castle and take what was hers.

  “Let us go,” Christian spoke softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to turn her in the direction they would go.

  Her first impulse to shrug his offending hand off quickly dissipated as his brief touch calmed her.

  Christian took the lead, leaving her and Eron to follow behind, shoulder to shoulder. “How did he take away the man’s pain? Can we all do that?”

  “No. Christian is a very special vampire. I imagine he was special before he turned.”

  “You did not know him before he became what he is now?”

  “No. I found him shortly after he had been turned and abandoned by his sire. It was my first instruction from the Dream Teller. Like you, he met a cruel fate and the Turning gave him a second life.”

  “Is he more powerful than you?”

  “I believe so. He offered his blood to me once in a dire circumstance. His blood nearly knocked me unconscious.”

  Seta studied the two men. If a vampire ceased to age after being turned, and Eron had found him shortly after he had been changed over, Eron had to be more powerful. “But you are older than him. Should you not have greater power? You can control him as you control me, correct?”

  “I can no better control him as I can control the air, and I may look to be his elder, but he is far older than I.”

  Seta compared the two. Both tall and fine looking men, but Christian’s complexion definitely showed him to be the younger upon their change into this new life. “How is that possible? He is clearly younger.”

  Eron shrugged. “Someday I would very much like to know the truth. I imagine it will be fascinating.”

  “There are dresses in this one,” Christian announced, pointing at the darkened windows of a small shop.

  “It is closed,” Seta advised. “They all are at this hour.”

  Eron smiled as he approached the door and pushed it open.

  “They do not bar their doors? Anyone could walk right in and take what they want!”

  “Including vampires,” Eron said as he entered the shop.

  Christian stood outside and gestured with his hand for her to follow Eron. “I will keep watch outside.”

  “I am not a thief.”

  “Neither is he.”

  Frowning, she stepped inside, finding Eron sifting through swatches of fabric on a long table. “Do you prefer to make your own?”

  Seta ran her fingers over the velvet bodice of a dress on display. “We could only afford to make our own,” she answered softly. “Servants do not get to wear fine things. Senseless to, really. Fine gowns would only be ruined after just one day of cleaning.”

  “Take what you desire.”

  “I have no money.”

  “I do.”

  She let her hand fall from the dress as she sized him up. He stood straight, hands clasped behind the small of his back, exuding power and authority. His clothes were not as fine as the count’s but they were not that of a poor man either. “And how do I repay the debt?”

  His nostrils flared. “This is not a debt owed to me. You have only the clothes you now wear and your dress is bloody and torn. You have no means to pay. I do. It is all very simple.”

  “I have never been given anything without a cost nor have I met a man who would not take some form of payment.”

  “I do not like what you are implying, Seta. I kill such men.” He stepped away from the counter, folding his arms before him as he looked out the store window. “The sun will kill us if we do not get to safety in time. Please hurry. You have the rest of eternity to insult me.”

  She angrily looked through the premade dresses, choosing the ones she knew would cost the least amount of money. She also selected a change of undergarments and quoted a fair price to Eron.

  “Very well.” He took the items from her and placed them in a dress box. “Go to Christian. See if we have any hindrance.”

  Seta watched him long enough to make sure he left enough money for the shopkeeper, then left to check with Christian.

  “Are we safe for travel?”

  Christian nodded, looking far into the direction they had come from. “I have seen no movement. We should have a peaceful walk back, as long as we move quickly.”

  “Let us leave then,” Eron said, emerging from the shop with the boxed dresses. He took the lead and Seta followed behind him, Christian at her side.

  “Will the man be well now?” she asked.

  “He will be better,” Christian answered softly. “He can now live with the pain.”

  “Can you take my pain?”

  She noticed Eron still ahead of them, only for a split second before moving forward at a quicker pace.

  “I can not take your pain, Seta. The love you have for your son is purer than that man’s regret. There is no way I could ever take the pain you feel away.”

  “I can not live with this pain.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She bit the inside of her jaw until she tasted blood, desperate to not give in to the urge to lie down and cry. “I am mostly numb now. My head is full of words, oaths and promises of vengeance. My heart is iced. This night is not real to me. The moment everything becomes real to me, the pain of it will consume me.”

  “You were chosen to be saved due to your strength, Seta. You will survive this loss and you will be rewarded for it. You will have your son back.”

  How long? Her chest hurt as she tried to imagine how much time would pass, how many nights she would endure without her sweet child in her arms.

  “Take my pain,” she whispered. “Try.”

  Christian’s cool fingers entwined with hers. “I can not. The pain is a gift. As long as you love you will feel pain. As long as you love you will beat back the darkness fighting to claim your soul. Keep fighting, Seta. Fight for Rialto. Fight for the world.”

  “What does the world have to do with this?”

  “The world is why you are not dead, why The Dream Teller sent us to save and guide you. This is a war we are fighting and it will take every bit of love you have to win.”

  “What if I can not fight?”

  “Then we will lose to the darkness and all will suffer.”

  FOUR

  She was falling without sound into an icy cold abyss. Above her, Roberto Garibaldi laughed, his eyes calling her a fool as Rialto’s tiny arms reached out for the only mother he’d ever known. Her body felt no pain from its many breaks and lacerations. It only felt the chill air closing in around her. She should be screaming. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe he’d stolen he
r voice too. Maybe she didn’t fear the fall. She knew someone waited at the bottom of the abyss to catch her and deliver her into a hell no mother would ask for. She closed her eyes, hoping to hit the ground and shatter, no longer able to feel her loss. She hoped to become nothing.

  “Foolish.”

  She opened her eyes, and found herself looking up into a cerulean sky lit by a pearlescent blue moon. She sat up, her body able to perform the task without complaint. She was not shattered, and she was not at the base of the cliff.

  She sat in a forest, everything tinged blue by the moonlight. She was not alone. She’d heard the voice. It did not belong to Eron. It was old and withered. Female. She’d heard it before and naively, had listened to it. She’d believed it was there to help her. She’d been wrong.

  “Show yourself, Dream Teller.”

  The air five feet before her shimmered as the old, leather-faced, hunched over woman crept forward, her milky white eyes seemingly focused on her. A rope of coarse white hair peeked out of her hooded cloak.

  Seta picked herself up from the pine needle covered forest floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to block some of the chilly air. It had always been cold when she’d found herself there before, but not this glacial. “It was never this cold when you came to me before.”

  “This is the dream realm, and it presents itself differently to each visitor, although most do feel extreme cold. It picks up on your emotions. Fear is a chilling emotion.”

  “I am not afraid.” Seta lowered her arms, balling her hands into fists at her sides. “I fear nothing.”

  “Of course you do. You are a mother. You fear for your son every moment you are away from him. You fear for his safety. You fear for his soul. You fear that you may never see him again. Fear not, Seta. Unfist your hands. There is no need for false bravado here, no use in lies. I know what is in your heart and what battle rages in your mind. Fear not, young one. You will see him again. I assure you of this. Your life was spared for that very reason.”

  Seta stared into the woman’s eyes and only saw a sea of white. “How can sightless eyes see that my hands are clenched?”

  “I may be blind, but that does not mean I can not see. I see it all, often before it happens.”

  “You saw my death before you saw Rialto’s birth.”

  “I saw them at the same time, many years ago.”

  Seta rushed forward and wrapped her hand around the old woman’s throat, sinking her fingernails into the crepe paper folds. “You could have prevented it! How could you encourage me to have a child I would lose?”

  The Dream Teller disappeared, leaving Seta holding a handful of nothing.

  “I told you to leave with him. You did not listen. Still, you did not lose him.”

  Seta turned, but did not see the woman. She stood alone in the blue forest. “Where are you? Show yourself! Answer for what you have done!”

  “This was not my doing.”

  “You told me I would have a son. You encouraged my relationship.”

  “I told you to leave with him.”

  “I did! I left my mother’s home to take him to the castle where I believed he would be safe. You did not tell me to take him away from Roberto.”

  “I did. Your heart would not allow you to hear me correctly.”

  “Lies! You know you tell lies. You hide now because you know you have done a horrible thing to me.”

  The Dream Teller appeared before her again, far enough that she was out of grabbing distance. “I hid to avoid violence. This is not a place to fight. This is a place to learn.”

  Seta scoffed. “You are to be my teacher now?”

  “I am to be your guide. She is to be your teacher.”

  “Seta,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

  Her heart tightened in her chest as a flood of emotion washed over her. Turning, Seta locked eyes with the woman her family had left behind in Spain.

  “Grandmother? We had received word you had passed on.”

  “My body left the land of the living,” the small woman with features similar to her own said. “My spirit can not rest until I give you back the knowledge your mother begged me to take from you, and give you the lessons you were meant to have.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “A born witch skips a generation. You inherited my magic, the magic your mother wanted nothing to do with. I started to train you in secret. Your mother found out and threatened to take you away if I did not stop and erase what I had done.”

  Seta shook her head, trying to comprehend what she was being told. She knew she had power. She felt it even if she’d never known what it was. There had been accidents, unbelievable incidents. The visions. “I am a witch.”

  “Yes.”

  “Witches are evil.”

  “Only if they choose to be. Was I evil?”

  Seta tried to remember. They’d left Rosa behind when traveling to Italy but she’d lived with them prior to their departure. She remembered spending time with her, cooking, cleaning, and taking walks together. She did not remember any magic or talk of it yet she recalled always sensing power in the woman.

  “No. I do not remember you doing magic.”

  “I made a deal with your mother. If I would erase your memory of magic she would allow me to live with you. I worked a spell to remove every spell I taught you, and every bit of magic you saw me perform.”

  “We still left. We moved to a different country.”

  “Yes.” Rosa looked down, sighing heavily. “I erased your memory of magic and stopped teaching you. Still, you left. However, there is no spell to turn a witch into a non-magical being. You still had power, even if you did not know it. You still saw visions. You still created power in your body.”

  “That is why we left?”

  “You left for Italy because your father thought he could make a better life in a new country. I told them not to leave. I saw his death. Your mother never accepted my abilities and refused to listen. She did not think I did my best to take away your knowledge of magic and thought my warnings were an effort to keep you near. When I persisted my warnings, she left me behind and took you to Rome.”

  “That is why she did not speak of you often.” Seta recalled the times she asked of her grandmother and did not get lengthy answers. Often, any mention of her would be quickly changed, and any correspondence received would be read by her mother before given to her, even if she were the only name listed as the addressee. “She dismissed my visions as daydreams.”

  “I know. I am sorry you have spent these years not knowing your true ability. I have been allowed this time to undo the disservice I was persuaded in doing to you. I will give you back the training that was erased as well as bestowing all my knowledge to you.”

  “Why?” Seta looked between The Dream Teller and her grandmother. “It is not that I am unappreciative of this gift, but why are you being allowed to do this?”

  “Fate is fixing a grievous error,” The Dream Teller answered. “Your power is your gift. It was not your mother’s to take away or discourage, no matter her reason for doing so.”

  “Losing my son was a grievous error. It was the most horrible error to have ever occurred. Is fate going to fix that?”

  “Yes. In time fate will return your son to you.”

  “I want him now. I did nothing so evil as to deserve this loss.”

  “You conceived him with a married man,” The Dream Teller reminded her. “The lies he told you do not erase that sin. Your ignorance gives you some understanding, but no full pardon of the offense. Despite this, if you seek forgiveness it will be granted. Despite this, you will get your son back. This is not a punishment, no matter how it may feel.”

  “Seta,” Rosa interjected, “I know the loss of being away from my family. It is hard but it can be survived. I understand the pain that tears you inside but if you truly think with your heart, you know he is in the best place he can be. You are now of the night. You will be hunted and
so would he if you kept him near.”

  “Can I not protect him with magic?”

  “The best gift you can give him now is to let him be raised with his father until he is of age to be returned to you.”

  “How long must I wait?”

  “Until he calls upon you,” The Dream Teller answered, “of his own free will.”

  “He will not know me. He will think the countess is his mother.”

  “The truth always comes out,” The Dream Teller said with a smile. “In its own time.”

  Seta fell to her knees, the hopelessness inside her too heavy to carry. “What good is having power if it can not give me the one thing I want? What good is eternal life if I can not even hold my child?”

  “Your power and the extra years you have been given will allow you to be joined with him again, and to have him far longer than you would have,” Rosa said as she kneeled before her. “It seems impossible now but I promise you this, you will have far more time with him than without him. The time that passes in between will be but a blink.”

  “Is there a spell to end the torment?”

  Rosa held her chin in her hands, forcing her to look into her eyes as she smiled serenely. “You are stronger than you know. I must leave you now but you will have all my knowledge with you. Always do good with it and you will be rewarded.”

  Rosa kissed her forehead before placing her hand over the spot her lips had warmed.

  Seta felt warmth spread from her grandmother’s palm. It worked its way through her body, starting at the head and warming her down to her toes. Images flashed before her, lost memories of training with Rosa back in Spain. More words than she could count filled her mind, as if she were reading a thousand books at once, the information pouring into her brain. She gasped as the sheer amount of spells and history passed down through her family overwhelmed her. She was drowning in it. She reached out to steady herself when a blinding white light exploded and she felt her back connecting with the ground.

  She opened her eyes to find she had been knocked flat on her back. She sat up easily, surprised to find no pain in her body, just a hum of electricity coursing through her veins. Rosa was gone. To her left, she found The Dream Teller watching over her.