Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1)

by JK Ensley

  “So, what do you have in store for our last day together?”

  “Well… I thought perhaps we should spend the day cuddling.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Vareilious.”

  “What? Am I so far out of the realm of possibility you refuse me even the chance?”

  She blushed. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it? Speak your heart. We’re friends, sexy little warrior. Nothing can ever change that.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  She smiled. “Then, I shall confide. I do not wish to spend even one moment cuddling in your arms, talking about feelings, for I do not trust myself to do so.”

  He gave her his best smirk. “And why’s that?”

  “Because I fear what will come of it.”

  “What?” He sort of snorted. “Afraid you’ll lose yourself in me, beg to be my eternal mate?”

  He winked at her and yanked one of her stray curls. Jenevier didn’t return his teasing play.

  “I already care so deeply for you, Vareilious. I dare not take even one step closer. I would never admit this to Varick, ever. But, I cried for you—prayed daily for your return.”

  He grabbed her then, pulling her onto his lap. She tried to turn her head, but he held her firm, gazing deep into her eyes.

  “Do not tease me, Maiden. My heart cannot take it.”

  She half laughed. “Are you never serious?”

  “Do not take my words as jest. I have never been more serious. Answer me this. If Varick asks you to marry him, will you?”

  She swallowed hard. “…Yes.”

  “Why?”

  The look in his eyes was so sad, pleading. She smiled softly and touched his cheek.

  “Because, Vareilious, I love him. And also because, it just feels right. It feels like I’m supposed to be with Varick.”

  “And, if he didn’t ask you. What then?”

  “Then, I guess I wouldn’t be given the chance to say yes or no.”

  “No, Princess. I mean, if for some reason he chose to ignore this most perfect of loves and asked not for your hand. Would you ever consider another?”

  “What are you saying? Do you withhold truth from me?”

  “No, you thick-headed girl. I am asking if you would ever consider marrying me. I wouldn’t hesitate, even for a moment. If you but said the word, I would gladly propose to you this instant.” He held her face in his hands, resting their foreheads together. “I will never leave you and I cannot stop loving you. I’ve already tried.”

  Her chest tightened, almost painfully so.

  “You are being serious?”

  He smiled. “Of course I am.”

  “If that were the case, and he neither owned nor wanted my heart, I would be more than honored to stand at your side, Vareilious.” She laughed through her coming words. “I would be gloriously happy to spend the rest of my life just fighting with you.”

  Tears burned his eyes. “Gratitude, beautiful lady. Your words are beyond value—a priceless treasure sought throughout the ages. God grant me not one plea more, but that one day… I should get to hold you to them.”

  Chapter 52

  Vanahirdem

  (van-ah-HEAR-dem)

  The sparkling majestic tower stood in the center of that ethereal city.

  Jenevier trembled. I don’t know if I can do this. It’s so… imposing. How? How can I go through with this if the thought of just entering those doors makes me shiver?

  The Temple’s staggering height seemed to pierce the very heavens. Every detail resonated holiness. From its clear as glass steps to its multiple tiered rooftops, it glowed and pulsed. This was the one and only structure in all of Vanahirdem with sharp lines and definition. Its sheer contrast to the soft sparkling domes all about it was simply phenomenal.

  The multiple rooftops had no eaves. They came down on all four sides, curling up slightly at each corner. Every overhang was encompassed about with what can only be described as a diamond lace. Not dainty and feminine, no. This awesome lattice work was bold and distinctive. Each rooftop seemed to hover above the next and each boasted its own unique diamond lattice work.

  She just stood there, staring.

  Wow… How can— How was it even built? How many roofs does it have? Is that… glass? No. No it’s not glass. But maybe… I don’t know. Why won’t anyone just say, just answer at least one of my questions about it?

  She sighed and glanced to the warriors at her sides, then back to the ethereal building.

  The foundation upon which this regal temple sat was formed of the same glassy, enchanting material as the structure itself. The mesmerizing platform stretched out for fifty yards from either side. At each corner of this massive base stood an imposing pillar, a pillar reaching so high Jenevier could not see the tops from where she now stood beneath them.

  I should not have eaten so much. Vareilious just wouldn’t shut up. Ugh, my stomach feels like it’s at war. I think I really am gonna be sick.

  Jenevier had always felt tiny and insignificant within this monstrous city, yes. But never so much as she did now, standing here before the threshold of such obvious omnipotence.

  “Of what is it made?” she whispered aloud.

  “Of nothing found within this realm, young maiden.”

  The unexpected response whispered in her ear came from a graceful, elegant Vanir woman whose height and strength matched those of her brothers. Vinika had helped dress her that morning, had helped her prepare for the sacred Pyrolysis ceremony about to be performed in her honor.

  Noth-nothing within this realm? Then… where did it come from?

  She thought those words, yes. Yet dared not speak them aloud for fear she might actually receive an answer. An answer she simply couldn’t handle right now. This day was going to be jam-packed as it was. No real need to add to the many things already clouding her weary, mottled mind.

  Yeah… I’m gonna be sick.

  *****

  While Jenevier had been bathing that morning, peacefully relaxing, Vareilious ran in. He was holding a shimmering pearlescent dress with golden accents.

  “Look what I have, Kitten,” he said through a smile.

  Jenevier couldn’t help but laugh at the colossal Guardian. He was acting as giddy as a child when he started rattling off the meaning of the garment and how he couldn’t wait to see her in something other than her sterile, unisex training gear. The dress had looked doll-sized in his massive hands. She returned his ecstatic smile—acting a bit giddy herself. That was the first instance—but only the first—where Vinika had to threaten Vareilious with bodily harm, before he finally consented to leave and let her dress in peace.

  Jenevier giggled aloud as she remembered the downtrodden, sullen look on his perfectly sculpted face. Then she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Vinika heard the tiny chuckle and furrowed her brows. “Is there something wrong, Maiden?”

  “Huh? Oh, no. Apologies, Vinika. Everything is fine.”

  “Very well, then.”

  Jenevier half turned to the other woman, admiring her lovely profile, as heartwarming scenes from the last few hours played back through her mind…

  She was staring at her adorned reflection in the beveled mirror. She couldn’t help but notice how her curls perfectly matched the golden cord Vinika was carefully wrapping about her bodice.

  “You are a vision of the goddesses of old, Milady,” Vinika whispered. “I can see why Vareilious was so adamant about staying around. You are stunning, little one.”

  Jenevier blushed at the she-Guardian’s unexpected praise. Vinika began twirling her around so she could see herself fully in the giant looking glass. She was suddenly glad her hair fell all the way down to her waist.

  Hmm… I have never owned something that was completely minus a back. Were it not for my curls, this lovely dress would have my cheeks burning red all day.

  The elegant garment drape
d about her neck, coming down into a low V between her breasts—nearly to her bellybutton. There were long golden cords hanging from either side. Vinika hummed as she expertly wrapped them about her, starting where the dress overlapped at the base of Jenevier’s spine. She crossed them in front and in back of her many times, finally tying them in a thin bow almost halfway up her back. The matching golden sandals laced up her legs the same way the dress had laced up her body. She had to admit, Vareilious was right. This alluring little number made her look every inch a woman. She couldn’t contain the smile her reflection brought to her face. She blushed again.

  “Jenevier… Jenevier, are you even listening to me?”

  The angelic voice pulled her mind back to the present. She focused again on the lovely woman beside her.

  “Huh? What?”

  “How eloquently stated, Milady.” Vinika rolled her eyes. “I said… shall we proceed?”

  “Oh yes, let’s,” she whispered, shakily.

  *****

  Her first step upon the heavenly stone courtyard sent a surge of current streaking through her body, vibrating every cell. Suddenly, she felt light as air. A warm humming filled her—made her hair stand on its end. A gentle hand grasped her elbow, stopping her from swaying.

  “I never get used to that part myself,” Vinika whispered.

  Valadrog and Vareen patiently waited for the procession to reach them at the top of the pristine steps.

  “Blessed Vanir.” His commanding voice boomed out over the gathering crowd. “It has been far too long since we have had the great honor of witnessing the Pyrolysis. It is a holy transformation performed only upon a select few souls—souls chosen to protect the innocent. Our task is to merely prepare the vessel for the coming ritual. It will be God’s decision if the mortal is deemed worthy of such a sanctified honor.”

  “Worry not, Princess. You’ll be fine,” someone whispered. “I’ve never seen a vessel more ready.”

  She turned slightly to her left and saw a smiling Vareilious beaming from ear to ear, standing beside his solemn faced brother, Varick.

  “Jenevier Olesia Embarr. Enter the holy temple and prepare for your judgment.”

  She took a deep breath and trod forward on unsteady legs. No one in Vanahirdem would describe to her the ceremony. She had no idea what awaited her through those enormous glittering doors.

  Vareen took hold of one handle and Valadrog the other. The wind picked up, whistling through the ethereal lattice. Valadrog remained still until he heard the particular tune he had been waiting for. With ease, the two grandiose Vanir swung wide the cathedral doors.

  “Vinika, Varillum, escort the intended to the clemency seat.”

  At the chief’s command, the two women standing with Jenevier led her through the doors and into the heart of that heavenly auditorium. They stopped before an intricately carved bench and turned her to face the still open doors.

  “Now,” Varillum whispered. “When Valadrog gives the command, sit down. Stop shaking, little one. Trust me. You’ll be fine.”

  Jenevier watched as the whole of Vanahirdem entered and formed a shimmering circle about her. She desperately searched the crowd for Varick’s handsome face. She found him, front and center. His magical amber eyes were fixed upon her. Yet no hint of emotion was present on his lovely face. It wasn’t hard to locate the jovial Vareilious. He was to her immediate right, all smiles and waving.

  The colossal doors closed with an angelic ring. Valadrog and Vareen waited for complete silence.

  “The time has come for your reward, Maiden. If you are found worthy, God will bestow upon you the sacred tools you will use to complete the job in which He has need of you. If nothing happens, my child, then take heart in the fact you are now a trained warrior who has the ability to defy your curse. This is all that was promised you in the beginning. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her voice sounded tiny and scratchy within the great hall where she now stood. She was dwarfed by the room, by the glistening statues of ancient warriors lining the walls, and by the majestic company now gathered here to witness her deemed worth.

  “Are you ready to proceed?”

  “I fear,” she said meekly. “And… I tremble.”

  Valadrog laughed. “As well you should, Maiden. You stand at the mercy seat of the Almighty God. Trembling is acceptable.”

  “Then, I am ready.”

  “Be seated.”

  When she did, the consecrated bench felt as if it wrapped about her, or perhaps more like… she was sinking down into it.

  The accompanying silence was deafening. No one even breathed. She closed her eyes and waited. Nothing happened.

  Jenevier looked to Varick as she felt the sting of unwelcome tears burning the backs of her eyes. Relief—pure, perfect relief was upon his beautiful face. He smiled lovingly, approvingly, giving just a slight nod in her direction.

  His unconditional love instantly lifted her heart. She understood now. It was never about the transformation for Varick. He only ever cared that she could now defend herself in his rare absence. Knowing she possessed the power to defy Merodach was all he ever wanted. Varick would never be let down by the fact she wasn’t chosen for transformation. And, she loved him all the more for it.

  She was engulfed with the need to tell him, in front of this entire assembly of witnesses, how much she truly loved him and how proud she was to be trained in their ancient ways.

  When she opened her mouth to speak, she had no voice. Terrified, she sent a pleading look toward Varick. Yet, the smiling warrior now stood with bitter tears dripping from his chiseled chin. Sorrow had dimmed his beautiful eyes, erased his relieved smile. He was slowly shaking his head, mouthing the word NO.

  She didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t see what it was that had all the wide-eyed onlookers so entranced. Mystified, Jenevier glanced down to the now glowing heavenly bench.

  A blazing pain shot straight up her spine. She let out an Otherworldly scream as a brilliant light burst forth from her open mouth, then her fingertips, her chest, and finally her eyes.

  As the pain slowly subsided, she felt a loving warmth wrap itself around her, cradling her, lifting her into the air. Then an explosion of dazzling light surrounded her. She looked down to see all the Vanir, prostrate, eyes covered, save Varick.

  Jenevier was ever so gently lowered to her feet. She felt incredible! That same splendid warmth remained within her—swelled her heart to bursting. She didn’t feel transformed, no. She felt alive, alive and gloriously blessed. Her radiant smile wouldn’t stop. She almost giggled when her cheeks began to ache. She wanted to share this immaculate love with all her present friends. Yet, the Vanir slowly retreated from her. Only Varick and Vareilious remained fixed.

  But… why is he so sad?

  Her beloved’s silent tears were now as a flood. Vareilious stood slack-jawed beside him, in utter shock. Then she saw that a third warrior had not retreated. She recalled seeing him once or twice before, yet they had never spoken, never been properly introduced. He stood silent—frozen as were her two friends. She narrowed her gaze as she glanced back to Varick.

  “What is it, my love? What’s wrong?”

  Jenevier heard her words, yes. How could she not? They were definitely her words, but she certainly did not recognize the enticing velvety voice which spoke them.

  “Do not fear your sister.” Vareen was ascending the steps to join her, calling out to the horrified masses. “Listen to me, honored warriors. Each one of you has been blessed with a sanctified calling. Each of you willingly does the work God has ordained you to do.”

  The uneasy crowd glanced at one another before slowly returning to their places around the mercy seat.

  “Jenevier is a new creature, yes. Unlike any other, ‘tis true. But she is Vanir. Look with your hearts, my children. Not with your betraying eyes.”

  Jenevier glanced around at the angelic Guardians now mumbling about her. Vareen lightly t
ouched her shoulder.

  “Think rationally, Warriors. Now, tell me. Has God ever made a mistake in His ordainment?” She shook her head. “No, dear ones. He knows all.”

  “Why?” Jenevier furrowed her brow, looking from the crowd back to the revered seer. “Tell me, Vareen. What’s wrong with me?”

  Her strange new voice twisted and floated through the air as if it carried actual weight. She looked down at her hands to find they were as water and smoke.

  “What the…”

  She turned her hands palm up and then back again.

  “What in the world? Is that… is that me?”

  Jenevier felt as whole and normal as ever. She clenched her fists and the eerie blue smoke and pristine waters swirled delicately together.

  “I think she’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like her. Not even in my wildest dreams.”

  She spun to find the awestruck face of her beloved friend, Vareilious. When she smiled at him, he positively glowed.

  There was a faint tinkling around her ears then. She moved her head slightly only to hear it again. When she shook her head, the lovely tinkling chimes were all about her. Jenevier caught a glimpse of a vibrant glowing reflection upon the shiny slick surface of the wall. She took one step toward the odd glow and found herself face to face with the wall itself.

  “She disappeared.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “What just happened?”

  She heard the worried whispers all around her.

  “I am here,” she answered calmly.

  Shocked faces and wide eyes turned her way. Again, everyone retreated. Jenevier didn’t notice. She was now entranced by her odd reflection upon the wall. Her entire body was as her hands—solid to the touch, but swirling and twisting within. Water and smoke had married to form her being. Yet, she was most fascinated with her ethereal hair. The thick crimson seemed to pour forth from her head as flowing blood. Fluid and shiny as the Vanir’s beautiful silver locks, yes. Yet hers fell as waves of brilliant cherry. She shook her head again. The vibrant strands tinkled and chimed all about her.