Emerge: The Awakening

by Melissa A. Craven

“Those words have always stayed with me,” he said with a faint smile at the long distant memory. “Jesus himself gave me the strength to believe we have a greater purpose. We are beloved by God, and our gifts, strength, and everything we have are because of his benevolence.”

  “You actually knew Jesus?”

  “Aye, I witnessed his crucifixion. Something I’ll never forget as long as I live. I was in the crowd when he carried his cross down the Via Delarosa. The sorrow and fear among those who loved him was palpable. The crowd taunted him and the soldiers beat him as he struggled to carry his cross, but his burden had nothing to do with the weight of the cross. It was a burden I felt heavy on my own heart, so I stepped from the crowd when he stumbled, and carried the cross for him. He was suffering from more than physical wounds, but he still had the grace to thank me. I stayed with him through his ordeal and the moment he died, it felt like nothing would ever be the same. I’ve seen some amazing things, but I have never known anyone quite like Jesus of Nazareth.”

  “You carried the cross for Jesus Christ? That’s kinda ironic.”

  “Allie, we of all people have cause to believe in God. It’s impossible to live a miracle every day of our lives and believe we are here by mere chance. We have a purpose,” he said passionately.

  “Two thousand years old? I can’t even imagine. You’re not really Scottish, then are you? You’d be a Celt, or a Pict?”

  “Celt, although much of my early life was spent among the Romans. Eventually I returned to my Celtic roots of my homeland. I’m not nearly as gifted at sharing my experiences as my lovely wife, but I’ll do my best. Close your eyes, try to relax, and as I talk, you might drift into my memories.”

  She nodded as he continued.

  “I was born in an age of war, and my skills are well suited for battle. Subtle weapons I could use without detection, allowing a slight manipulation of the clouds to offer favorable conditions for my troops and a hindrance to the enemy. I can even generate a magnetic force into my sword, but it’s also a handy tool when faced with one of our own. Unfortunately, it is a gift many have coveted and I have fought often to protect.”

  “My life changed dramatically one day when I was out with my scouts. We stumbled upon a small camp of slavers and I sensed a young Immortal in their midst. When I ventured close, I saw him; weak and starving…I couldn’t leave him.” Gregg’s voice grew faint as Allie’s mind whirled with fuzzy images.

  “We can take these slavers, Greggory,” his second in command argued.

  “Alright, but the lad comes with us.”

  Gregg moved silently. Allie marveled at the use of his gift. The clouds followed him, keeping him well hidden among the shadows. As he drew closer to the camp, he saw the two soldiers closing in a moment too late when the first arrow was loosed. Allie felt a distant stab of pain, like an echo.

  He’d taken an arrow before, but this one was different. It burned like fire—a magnetized arrow. The second and third lodestone bolts caught him sooner than he anticipated. There were far more soldiers here than he realized. The boy was bait and he’d fallen for their trap.

  “On your feet, Immortal,” the soldier spat. The arrows were removed none too gently and Gregg found himself restrained with shackles made of strong magnetite. He would heal, but it would be slow.

  “What are you called, lad?” Gregg asked the boy.

  “Leikr. You needn’t have bothered.”

  “You’re a Northman?”

  “Yes.”

  “It seems we are both very far from home. They kill your parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but we will get out of this,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure how.

  “Do not worry about me.” Leikr scowled. “I will take care of myself.”

  Gregg shook his head with a grimace, he felt like he was looking at himself about a hundred years ago.

  “I’ll not leave without you, but if you manage to get free on your own, you best be taking me with you,” he laughed, but his smile vanished when something happened he hadn’t anticipated. Somehow, he’d bonded this child as his brother and there was no undoing it.

  The world swirled in a black cloud until Allie found herself watching as a spectator. Gregg and Leikr were taken to serve the house of Octavian—Master of the Coalition, a secret title he inherited from his uncle, Julius Caesar, upon his death. She watched as they were beaten and used for their gifts; their brotherly bond exploited to gain their cooperation for countless years.

  When the parade of horrific visions finally stopped, Allie’s mind reeled. Gregg now sat confined to a dark cell. Leikr was a grown man with a dark and dangerous countenance.

  “I will not be gone long, Brother,” he vowed. “My gift will lead me to Marc Antony. He is hiding somewhere in Egypt, and when I close in, he will have no choice but to return with me.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ll listen when I tell you not to return?”

  “Of course not, when have I ever listened to you?” Leikr’s grin was a familiar one.

  Allie shivered as the memories that were not hers grew dim.

  “How long were you slaves?” she asked hoarsely when she returned to herself.

  “Far too long,” Gregg sighed. “I waited patiently for the opportunity to escape with my young brother, but Rome was a powerful nation, built on the backs of the slaves they conquered. It took many years to accomplish our escape.”

  “You’ve seen so much history!” Allie shook her head in awe.

  “Aye, but I chose to share this experience with you to illustrate how we develop powerful family bonds that are more deeply rooted than simple genetics—and how the Coalition can use those bonds against us. Leikr—called Liam now—is as much my brother as if we shared blood. In time, you’ll forge similar bonds, but it will not diminish your relationships with your mortal family. But there will come a time when they’ll no longer be with you,” he said sadly. “I hope someday you can think of Naeemah and I not as parents, but maybe as an overly protective aunt and uncle?”

  “Of course,” she murmured. She didn’t like to think about how utterly alone she would be when her mortal family passed.

  “Now, on to today’s lesson!” he grinned wickedly. “We’re going to get you armed so you can protect yourself and I can rest easier.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Buck up, Red.” He towed her into his private gymnasium. The room was spacious with blue padded mats covering the floors. The high stone walls were adorned with swords, shields and other frightening artifacts she couldn’t identify.

  He led her to a glass case where several items were on display.

  “Really?” She met his amused gaze when he handed her a harmless pen. “It’s really heavy.”

  “Push the cap down and twist counterclockwise. Now you have a weighted dagger, perfect for throwing. Keep that on you at all times.”

  Allie twisted and sheathed the blade. “What’s next?” She tucked the pen in her back pocket.

  “This is something special I made just for you.” He presented the beautiful coiled bracelet.

  “Now you’re talking, big guy.” She admired the large pewter beads and reached to snake the coil around her wrist. “How is it a weapon?”

  “This clever little thing functions like a Boleadora throwing weapon. I knew you would need something easy to use that would offer a great deal of protection. If you ever have need of it, simply grab the last bead and pull.” He demonstrated and the bracelet relaxed into a long chain of weighted beads.

  “Flick the switch here and a potent tranquilizer will engage, triggering a chemical reaction to give the serum one hell of a magnetic kick. Whomever you face, mortal or Immortal, this will drop them where they stand. Just aim for an appendage and twirl the chain like a lasso and release. If your aim is decent, the weights will tighten and sharp hooks will embed into the skin, releasing the poison. Your attacker will be out of commission in seconds.”

&nb
sp; “Couldn’t I just get a Taser?”

  “No,” was his immediate and curt response.

  “This one will require some training time, but I want you to keep it in those fancy boots the girls gave you.”

  The slim metal cylinder was heavy and about six inches in length.

  “Press the large button at the center just under your thumb,” he instructed, wrapping his arms around her to demonstrate. With a slight jerk, the cylinder extended into a five-foot quarterstaff.

  “Should you need something more deadly, press the button again to extend the blades.”

  “I know this is all very foreign to you, but it will only be a matter of time before you’re an old pro. For now, I’m much happier knowing you’re armed.”

  Gregg walked her through some basic self-defense exercises utilizing her new weapons and she left their session feeling more confident in her ability to defend herself. But Allie wasn’t sure she would ever be comfortable with the idea of hurting anyone.

  <><><>

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  “I’m just going to move into the kitchen.” Allie’s stomach rumbled violently as she traipsed downstairs to scavenge for food. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Graham came whistling through the front door.

  “Don’t you knock?” Her anger surged to the boiling point.

  “I figured you were up on your roof.” He ignored her outburst.

  “Want some cake?” Her irritation wilted at the sight of his gentle smile.

  “You really need to ask?”

  “Right.” Graham rarely stopped eating. “Hey um, sorry about earlier.”

  “What? This afternoon when you tried to take my arm off and beat me with it when I asked if I could finish your sandwich?”

  “Yeah…that.” She winced.

  “I totally deserved that, Allie. I’ve been the center of attention since my Awakening.” He shrugged as she sliced two mammoth pieces of chocolate cake. “Now you’re the starving newbie.”

  “It’s just food. I shouldn’t be snarling at my friends.”

  “So, that’s why you’ve sequestered yourself up in your tower all afternoon?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re embarrassed? You don’t think we get it?”

  She burst into tears.

  “Crap.” He patted her back awkwardly.

  “These crazy emotions are pissing me off!” She giggled at his scowl.

  “Quinn’s very existence irritated me for weeks. I clocked him a bunch of times, just for breathing too loud.”

  “When did you start feeling like you again?”

  “I’ll let you know,” he sighed. “It’s better, but I’m still not there yet. Just don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to us.”

  “Thanks, Graham. And thanks for not recoiling in revulsion whenever I happen to stand too close.”

  “It’s not revulsion, Allie.” His cornflower blue eyes radiated sympathy. “It’s odd. Sasha isn’t nearly as affected by Aidan as I am, but I’m not as affected by you as she is.” He shrugged at the mystery.

  “Well, it means a lot.”

  “Anytime.” He smiled, jumping up to help Lily with her groceries. Allie scrambled to hide their empty plates.

  “Graham, it’s always nice to see you! Stay for dinner? We’re having lasagna.” Lily and Carson had a major soft spot for Graham.

  “I never say no to food.”

  “What’s this, Allie? You’ve got another boyfriend?” Carson teased as he entered the room, grabbing plates to set the table.

  “Seriously, Dad?”

  “No, Mr. Carmichael, she has enough boyfriends already.” Graham grinned. “Besides, Vince would kill me if I even tried to make a move and Aidan’s already impatiently waiting in that line.”

  “Graham!” Allie glared daggers as he dodged her not-so-playful punch.

  “By the way,” Lily said as they took their seats. “Jin Jing called earlier today. You’ve been invited to go camping this weekend.”

  “Camping?” She made a face at Graham, passing the salad to her mother.

  “Did I forget to mention that? It’s sorta why I stopped by. We’re going up to the Canadian islands to do some, er—hiking and fishing.”

  Allie continued to argue with him over dinner in a tone too low for mortal ears.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to miss this trip.”

  “But it’s freezing!”

  “You’re so going.” He kicked her under the table for emphasis.

  “Alright. Split the last piece of lasagna with me?” she winked.

  <><><>

  “Chloe talks about you often.” Ming Lao smiled. “I know you’re probably more comfortable with Gregg and Naeemah, but I hope in time you’ll feel just as comfortable with Jin Jing and I.”

  “I’m looking forward to training with you both,” Allie said politely. But if truth be told, Chloe’s mom scared the crap out of her.

  “You’ve probably wondered why my appearance is so much different than before.”

  “It’s odd, everyone looks younger, but they all still look like themselves.” The Ming Lao she met weeks ago was nothing like the gorgeous young woman sitting across from her today.

  “In this, I am much more talented than most. I can alter my appearance more dramatically—even appear as a man if I choose. Now that you are manifested, I could probably only influence you for a few moments.” She smiled.

  “I can come across as a hard woman, Allie,” she said sadly. “Most young Immortals do not warm to me very easily and I find it extremely difficult to remember what life was like at your age. But, like Naeemah and my daughter, I am a natural born. My family life was very different from the life you are learning.” Her obsidian eyes grew even darker.

  “My mother and father are what we call Scholarly Immortals, a very rare and greatly respected breed. They do not possess the powerful gifts we do. Although they are strong and fast, their skills are more inclined to the world of academia.”

  “My powerfully gifted nature was very unexpected and made for a difficult adolescence. For my parents and those like them, the focus of life is education and the pursuit of knowledge. Training, fighting, and honing skills is always of secondary importance.”

  “As my first abilities began to emerge, I discovered I was capable of manipulating earth, an elemental talent which marked me as powerfully gifted. I felt I was a disappointment, but in time I realized my parents were proud of me, although they feared what my future would hold.”

  “Eventually it became apparent that I needed more than my parents could provide and a distance formed between us. I began spending more time with my tutor, Jing Zong, a Buddhist monk who offered the training I desperately needed.”

  “I have no doubt you worry about this very thing,” Ming said kindly. “Inevitably, you will grow closer to your Immortal family, but your parents will always be an important part of your life. Trust that your bond with them is strong enough to sustain even this. And don’t be too hard on yourself for doing what you must.”

  “That frightens me more than anything,” Allie admitted. “How can I remain close with my family when there is such a huge part of my life they can never know about?”

  Or never talk about.

  “Their ignorance will be challenging, but it does not have to change your relationship unless you allow it. My parents kept me sheltered for a long time in a misguided attempt to keep me from the life they knew I would lead.”

  Is that what they’ve been doing all my life? Sheltering me from all of this for as long as possible?

  “As I grew older, I began to resent their stifling protection. I ran away from home when I was very young. During those years, I strayed so far from the woman I was, I didn’t think I could ever return, but my past shaped who I am today. I’m still me. Maybe just a little tougher and a bit more capable.” She smiled. “Hang on to that thought and take comfort knowing you’re still you.”

  “I am trying really hard not to lose myse
lf in all of this,” Allie sighed.

  “I know we’ve thrown a lot at you, but we really need to move on to today’s lesson. I have spent much of my life studying the martial arts in depth, and I can teach you a great deal in time, but we need to get you performing rather quickly. I hear you are a graceful dancer, so we’re going to begin with an unusual style of French kickboxing that will allow you to draw from those existing skills. Today you begin your training as a Savateuse.”

  “A Sava-whatsit?”

  “A female Savate kickboxer.” Ming’s laughter sounded like bells. “The sport is comprised of many variations of four simple kicks and four simple punches; all very elegant in movement, but aggressive and powerful as well. It is an ideal place to begin. Within a few months you will master the art.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” Allie said.

  “You might surprise yourself. Let’s move into the gym for a little demonstration and then we’ll get started.”

  The airy room was adorned with thick green exercise mats and brightly colored walls. The domed ceiling was tiled with mosaics of the most spectacular Chinese mythological creatures.

  “The first kick is called a Fouetté.” Ming paused to adjust a wooden dummy for the demonstration. Allie watched as she settled into a crouch, her movements careful and controlled. Whipping her right leg in a fluid arc, she connected her foot with the target with a loud thwack.

  “The second kick is a chassé, which is a piston kick, landing your vital point strikes in rapid succession. The third is a Revers, or hooking kick, meant to throw your opponent off balance.

  “The last is called a Coup de pied bas, meaning a low front sweeping kick with a backward lean.” She moved slowly through the form to demonstrate.

  “These four kicks will become second nature to you, but the true beauty of the art is how you put it all together.”

  “The first of four punches is a Direct bras avant. Ming Lao slowly demonstrated the open fisted jab. Allie watched as the fleshy part of her palm struck the dummy target.

  “The second is the Direct bras arriére, a closed fisted cross punch using the rear hand. The third is a simple Uppercut which is a short, closed fisted jab leading with upward momentum.”