“When will you come bless our church?” the Abbot asked and Cesare turned to him sighing.
“I'm no longer a Cardinal. My faith no longer lies in the church as I have found my own power and truth.”
“You shall always be a Cardinal. Sometimes we as humans stray from the sight of God, but there he waits for us to return. The doors to St. Gabriel will always be opened to you. Perhaps one day, it shall be a light to help you find your way back,” he said smiling.
Cesare felt heartbroken for some reason and his eyes told the tale. His mind became flooded by the many faces of those whom he returned to God. Overwhelmed with regret, he became weak at the knees, falling to the floor weeping. The spirit which hovered over him was one he could not fight, and he allowed it to over take him. The Abbot stooped down beside him, cupping his hands.
“It is times like these that we must pray young man. Truly we have been given the gift of free will, but our destinies were written before we passed our mothers' wombs,” he said.
“I am a God. I make my own destiny!” Cesare said angrily.
“No. You just choose the road you take to reach your predestination,” the Abbot said. Cesare snatched his hands away and stood up in complete conflict of himself.
“You have spent your entire life in the church, what changed your heart?”
“That's a long story. One I'll keep to myself,” Cesare responded coldly.
“I asked because of that look in your eye. See, I once had that same look. For twenty years I lived as an atheist. I hated the church. I did whatever I pleased, believing in nothing more than my own devices all because one day a man of the cloth took my innocence. I too let the circumstances of my life dictate my relationship with God. But what I had to realize is, things happen for reasons beyond our understanding. I am standing in this very spot, at this moment due to the choices in my life. And if that journey in life leads me to a purpose that is no more important than standing with you at this moment, my duty is complete,” he said proudly.
“You are happy being a pond?”
“I am happy being a servant,” he replied. Cesare scoffed and summoned his inner flame. The Abbot stepped back.
“Well that is something. If you walk on water I may just hang your picture and call you the Messiah,” he said smiling.
“See, I am my own God. I wield my own power. Religion is for sheeple and false gods.”
“Yet, religion is what led you to your path. You would not be the same Cesare without it. Religion led you to come find the book of exorcism. So obviously, your disbelief in religion is flawed,” the Abbot said turning towards his desk and sitting down.
Cesare grabbed the book and parchment and headed out the door, but his eye caught a glimpse of a plaque near a fountain. He walked up to it reading: Cardinal Cesare Borgia, Benefactor of St. Gabriel's Cathedral. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He abandoned his post as a Cardinal just before the war with Chamuel.
The reality of the hidden world made him forget his true origins and that which he held dear. He looked around at the run down furniture, the cracks in the walls and ceiling, the old instruments and squeaky floor panels. He silently closed the door attempting to blot the images out of his mind, but could not.
What are the odds? he asked himself, thinking he just chose a random church which listed the book in its repertoire. He returned to the car to see Lance had gone. He threw the book and parchment on the back seat when he heard gun shots in the distance.
31
soul reaper
Cesare looked around and took flight when he saw that no one was looking. Lance and Messalla found themselves surrounded by just more than two Alchemists and a Warlock.
They ran into a wolf den; fighting off a pack of twenty wolves. The Alchemists were still trying to apprehend Messalla, but he held his own against them. Cesare came down with his blades slicing into the wolves leaving the original pursuers.
“What's going on?” he asked Lance who was reloading his guns.
“I don't know. They were chasing him.”
“There is a reward upon the head of Alchemist Messalla, by order of the Grand Alchemist Cornelius Agrippa,” one of the Alchemists said.
“Wait. Cornelius?” Cesare asked, thinking of his disdain for him.
“Yes. Messalla has been accused of murdering the head of our Order, Solon, and has been sentenced to death,” he said.
Cesare stabbed the Alchemist in the heart, Lance shot the other and the Warlock. Cesare summoned his fire to get rid of traces of their presence, burning the pile of dead bodies.
“Thank you,” Messalla said as Cesare grabbed him by the collar.
“Don’t thank me yet. You were supposed to help Mila!”
“I went back to my lab for some things when I started getting chased. I was on my way back.”
“If Cornelius wants you, he'll have to face all of Magia Chaotica. This right here just gave me a reason to play Operation with his skull,” Cesare said storming off.
The Knights headed towards the Blue Palace, where Miss Chrissy’s songs were somewhat melancholy and blue. The crowd had died to a handful as morning was quickly approaching.
She couldn’t sleep, and decided to sing her worries away. Caden sat towards the back, trying to avoid being seen as he enjoyed a vanilla root beer float. His eyes danced across the room hoping someone would ask him to dance, but he had no such luck. The words to the siren’s song began to speak to the heart of him, and his loneliness was ever more apparent. He fell into a quick daze, imagining himself squeezing the waist of a woman, falling into her eyes.
His day dream was interrupted as surrounding claps shook him back to reality. Chrissy noticed the Knight sulking in the back and made her way to him as Quintus queued some soft dance music.
“It’s not like a Knight to sit and drink by himself,” she said smiling. He looked up at her and returned a nervous laugh.
“You’re very beautiful. And tall,” he said nervously.
“Six feet and that’s without heels,” she said twinkling her toes at him.
“I’m Caden by the way, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said, but stared as there was something very familiar to him.
She giggled as he had a slight lisp and an accent stuck between Bostonian and Scottish which she thought was cute and fitting to his face.
“Chrissy. The songstress,” she said as they began to talk.
They shook hands and for some reason Caden held on a little bit longer than she had expected. His grip was strong and solid, yet his hands were softer than that of the other Knights.
He blushed, realizing he was still holding on after sixty seconds but Chrissy didn’t mind one bit. They exchanged shy glances between meaningless conversation topics, eventually ending up the only two in the room.
“So, did you participate in the ritual after the ball?”
“Yeah.”
“So did I. It was actually really nice.”
“Yeah,” was all Caden could say which was odd for the overly inquisitive Knight. A brief pause between them was broken as the sound of heavy footsteps at the front entrance alarmed them.Cesare, Lance and Messalla headed for Bibi’s suite and they joined the crowd.
The sleeping beauty hovered over the bed, her aura glowed like sapphire, her skin wet from beads of sweat.
“What’s going on?” Caden asked, almost afraid to know the answer.
Cesare opened the Book of Exorcism looking for the page as Chrissy removed a skull chain from around her neck.
“You’re kidding me right? Christian shit?” Messalla asked looking at him strangely.
“There is an entity inside of her that shouldn’t be there. This ritual will get it out.”
“No. She has an Alchemical enchantment placed upon her. Her soul, spirit and body have to be realigned because she is a victim of the Pass of the 3 Horned God! The Christian God won’t help her!” Messalla stormed.
Cesare pushed him and began reading the Latin inca
ntation. Messalla opened his own ritual book to find the spell to deactivate the enchantment. While the two men fought about the proper magical remedy, Chrissy wrapped the chain around Mila’s wrist.
She held her hand and began levitating off the ground, falling into a trance state. Chrissy opened her eyes to see Mila running towards a thicket of trees with a glowing box in her hand. The sky was red, with thick black clouds, the ground was made of a red sand. Chrissy looked down to see that she was naked, her skin the bluest she had ever seen just like Mila. She summoned her trident but a large crescent moon shaped blade fell to the ground instead. Hesitation fled as her Blue Goddess instincts were activated as the power of those before her pulsed through her veins. She grabbed it, taking flight to catch up to Mila.
Chrissy slashed through vines and trees to find Mila standing in a lone circle with the box in hand. She frantically opened it, pulling out a beating heart. Mila began devouring the heart and her skin turned a shade of red. Chrissy’s senses tingled as shadows surrounded them; the curved blade glowing a dark blue. Mila’s hips began swaying to the vibration of her spirit as the Dance of the Blue Goddess healed her.
“I’m not strong enough,” she said, as tears ran down her face. Power was fleeing and her grip was too weak to hold on. Mother appeared and her stomach was swollen as though pregnant and she motioned for Chrissy to stop.
“What will give to see your sister returned?”
“What ever is necessary.”
“So be it, your sacrifice is worthy, but you shall not know what it until the day you realize it is gone,” Mother said, blowing her a kiss. Chrissy began to weep, throwing her sword down and falling to her knees.
“That which the goddess has given me, I give to you, Mila, my sister and friend. In blood and life, let my pain be your strength.”
Meanwhile, the sigil upon Messalla’s left shoulder moved down to his palm as it was activated and he projected the sigil upon the bed beneath the levitating Mila. As it spun, it pulled a black, smoking substance from her solar plexus. The light of her aura became bright and her eyes opened as red hibiscus flowers began to grow upon the walls and bed posts.
Cesare continued to read the rite of exorcism and his spirit fire flared up. The flames turned a shade of blue and a small light pushed from his skin into Mila; causing her to fall to the bed. She woke up screaming at the top of her lungs, but Messalla motioned for Cesare not to touch her.
“Wait a moment, allow everything to find its place. Like children who breathe their first breath, it pains the lungs which had never been used. Her soul feels new to her and it must remember this vessel. Allow the fusion to take place,” Messalla said.
Mila finally calmed down and she shook violently.
“Cesare. What happened?” she asked crying.
He took hold of her once she was whole again and simply said: “I don’t know. But I’m glad you’re back”. Messalla and Cesare nodded at each other; a silent form of respect on their parts. Chrissy walked out of the room feeling as though something was taken from her.
“Hey! Are you alright?” Caden asked, walking after her.
She turned and before she knew it, hugged Caden. He could feel her body trembling and wondered what was going on with her.
“Mila’s alright. I think. You shouldn't worry.”
Chrissy smiled at him,wiping her tears and walked away. Caden fought the urge to follow her as he wondered what caused the shift in her mood. His attentions diverted back to Bibi’s suite as he heard voices in the distance.
“Holy shit!” Lance shouted, causing everyone to giggle.
“It’s morning? What day is it?” Mila asked.
“Today is Friday love.”
“I feel like there is some place I need to be,” she said staring.
“I feel – broken.”
Cesare held her close as he felt the disconnect as well. She didn’t feel the same, but had hoped the ritual was enough. Everyone left the room giving them some time alone. Mila stared him in the eye and he gave her a weak smile.
“What's wrong? Somethings really bothering you,” she said curling up in his lap.
“I went to a church today,” he said staring into space. She lifted her head waiting for the rest of the story.
“It’s not what you think. The church still stands. But umm --” he started to say as Bibi came running through the door; her face red and eyes puffy as she had been crying for the past two hours.
Cesare sighed as he held Mila; irritated that their moment was ruined. She paused and looked around to make sure she was in the right room. When she realized she was, she felt bad and tried to turn away but Mila stopped her.
“What happened?”
“I told Donnie I hated him,” she said falling to pieces.
“Why did you say that?”
“He got a little rough with me. It just took me back to that shack,” Bibi said between sniffles. Cesare sat up with a grimace on his face.
“Did he hit you?” he asked.
Bibi was hesitant to say. The Magia had strict rules on the dealings with their women; spousal abuse was prohibited as it affected their magic. She shook her head no, but Cesare knew she was holding something back.
Bibi didn’t want to tell everything as she knew Cesare and Adonis were friends. Feeling the silent discomfort, Cesare got the message.
I don’t want to leave, not until I know Mila’s ok.
Don’t worry, I'm fine love. I’ll be alright with the girls, Mila said, answering Cesare’s thoughts. He smiled as he felt their connection slowly coming back.
“Well, I'm off. The Round Table will be called in a few. I'll find Adonis and talk to him. Will you be alright?” Cesare asked turning to Mila.
“Of course. I'll see you soon,” she said giving him a kiss. Bibi waited until Cesare was gone to spill her emotions out on Mila. She stayed silent as Bibi told her how sex had become a burden, how she hated the smell of alcohol even at the Palace.
“Beebs. When we chose our husbands, we married not just them, but their weaknesses. When they fall victim to their chaos, it’s partially because we have also veered from our path. Our magic makes us a walking bottle of pheromone. To deny our husbands sex is almost an act of cruelty, but it shouldn't be like that. Don't be so quick to dismiss him. Help him find his problem and guide him through his darkness. Sometimes men cry for help without tears.”
“That's an easy thing for you to say. You don't have an alcoholic husband who forces himself on you.”
“No, but I have a psychopathic husband who likes to burn people alive. Our husbands, we knew what they were when we married them Bibi.”
“And when Cesare hurts you, how will you react?” Bibi pressed on.
“I don't know. But we have to take it all in --” she started to stay as she felt herself choking.
Mila fell back and began contorting her body as if she had fallen into seizure. Bibi grabbed her, holding on as she stuttered in Latin. Josie peeked her head in, also needing to talk to Mila and found her on the floor with Bibi.
Josie began laughing hysterically causing Bibi to twist her face with an attitude.
“Seriously bitch?”
Mila quickly came to, but her eyes looked tired. Josie shrugged and walked off.
“She has got to go. She's making us look bad,” Bibi said, still staring towards the door.
“I don't want you to be mad at Adonis,” Mila said out of nowhere. “Go home and wait for him. Love is what holds you together. Without it, he will kill himself with alcohol and you'll start cutting again. I don't want that Beebs. I love you. And I want you happy,” Mila said as a tear ran down the side of her face. Bibi held her friend tight, not wanting to let go. “Go on. I'll be fine. Take care of you,” Mila said with a smile.
***
Bibi called Adonis as she made her way back home, but his phone was off. The sun was up and she hadn’t slept. She sat up in the bed trying to think of something to say, but her eyes fell heavy and sh
e crashed.
Meanwhile, the Prophet and Mother Recia had a silent breakfast. Every few minutes she would lift her head and smile at him as she attempted to keep her composure.
“Recia. I understand this is hard for you,” he began to say as she shook her head.
“You have no idea. I have followed you and your vision for this world since we were young. You have grown this Order remarkable strength, yet your mission, your destiny is to die? I don’t understand it all,” she said crying.
“We are all born to die, Recia. But the man you see before you must die in order for everything to come full circle. You will understand my love, in due time.”
The Prophet kissed her and held her tight as his strength waned in front of her. “Be strong for me! Please! Be strong. I will return to you. I swear it.”
Recia hoped his words were true and the couple continued their breakfast on the rooftop of Temple Eliyon with silent stares. In the distance, a black caravan of SUVs could be seen coming their way. The anxiety of the coming events made it difficult for her to finish her food.
“Are those the sheeple you told me where coming?” she asked, adjusting her hijab.
“Regrettably yes. The only reason I accepted his request for an audience is see the fruits of my labor. Since the awakening, Ordo Viscenti Regalus has grown tenfold. I must see the mistake of my doing before the Lord of Death comes.”
“Stop saying you made a mistake.”
“But it was a mistake! My mistake. Now I must pay for it,” he yelled. Recia could see the fear in her husband's eyes; a look she had never seen in him before. She held him tight, never wanting to let go. They stared into each other's eyes as time had stopped momentarily.
“Wake all the women and go into the bunker,” he said as she shook her head no.
“Recia! Do as I say. Please. You must be here when I come back or there will be no reason for me to do so. Please love,” he said letting go. A Mujāhidūn ran upstairs alerting The Prophet that Chris Hicks had arrived and he motioned to send him up.
Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1) Page 37
