"Agreed."
"Go towards the mountains, to the north. Once through the forest you will find a portal behind the Great Falls. It will appear as a hazy veil, smoke, and fog. Go through and you shall be at the foot of my castle. Do not go farther than the portal, as my power only protects you on the path.”
“Where is your castle exactly?” she asked.
“Between realms,” he explained. “The exact location and name, you need not know for your own safety of course, lest Dĩas find out.” He winked at her.
“Tomorrow then,” she replied and got a hold on herself.
He bowed to her, which made her feel like royalty. She quickly shook off the feeling and started to leave the room, turning around to look at him one last time. “If I change my mind or if I decide to refuse, what then?”
“You will not.”
She thought he answered with conceit. “Aside from your ego, what if I did?”
He looked at her with great honesty, revealing that he would not lie to her, whether she liked the answer or not. “Then I would take you to my home for good, whether you were willing or not.” He smiled, inviting her to think of it as a joke, but she knew better. Her instincts told her so despite his promise not to force her to do anything. If he viewed this action best for her sake though, in his mind it would not be forcing . . . just like his claim.
She looked at him oddly, shivered, and left the room. It was pointless to say anything else. In the case that he was not joking, she did not want to test his warning. If he was joking, she did not wish to make a further fool of herself than she had already.
But, she did not resist the chance to mumble once she left the room, “And if you do, I’ll cut your bloody head off, Giant.” That made her smile. "I'll be the last unwilling thing you ever drag off to you Realm."
~Chapter 10~
Staphãyn
***
Dearest Brother,
What have you done?
Are these the deeds your sorrow has spun?
Look to the moon…
Tangled there in her mystical loom.
Why do you surrender to such misery and gloom?
My dearest brother, love for you is stronger than this pain…
Speak to me, my beautiful and immortal Staphãyn.
***
To her misfortune, no sooner did she return to her room, she found that Dĩas had sent her more of the herbs which would control her Awakening. With them, he sent a message telling her that Daŕēus was dangerous and to avoid him at all costs. When it was safe, he would explain, but until then, not to fall for any plots of her mother’s. He also told her to strengthen the dose of the potion three fold. Since Daŕēus’s power had triggered it, then it was imperative she get it under control now, especially with her sisters experiencing theirs. His message caused her to become even more upset as the sack of herbs fell to the floor by her feet and his letter fluttered not far behind.
He refused to talk to her before, no matter how many times she called out to him but he sent her this, these dark herbs, which caused her such distress? It seemed awfully shallow and conniving to her.
Still, Samanthŕa had a fight on her hands within herself. Despite all of Dĩas’ persuasions concerning his suspicion or hatred of Daŕēus, she had already made up her mind to control her Awakening. Only now, she knew the battle to do so would be even more treacherous.
Her sisters however, were the only reasons she had made such a grave decision and they were reasons enough, since she cared very little for her own fate at this point. If her efforts failed, and the herbs destroyed her, then at least it would be by her own hand and not Evils'. And at least her title and powers would revert to her family and not Evil. And at least then, her sisters would be safe from a curse brought forth by Samanthŕa's own destiny.
Shaking but sure, kneeling by the fire in her room, she took the foul smelling potion, mixed and drank it . . . then spoke the words which would ignite its purpose inside her like a flame.
“Bring forth the soulless hunter who preys upon the beast.
Bring forth the swift darkness that dissipates its release.
Dagger dark,
Blood be still,
Feel my nature,
Know thy kill.
Destroy thy self,
Beast be still.
Sleep thy life,
Delay thy will.
Herbs devour and prevent what’s to come.
Sleep thy true nature, nature be done.”
She stood wavering, stumbling towards her bed. She fell back onto her covers as the beast inside roared in pain. Imprints of its claws and spirit raked patterns underneath her flesh. She nearly passed out as she fought the urge to throw up the poisonous brew. Her body trembled and revolted. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She looked as though she were having seizures. The pain of it was excruciating and worse than ever before. She began to sweat as the war went on inside her, between her true nature and the death of its rebirth.
Hours passed while she suffered in this way. It was more difficult now because instead of preventing the first signs of her Awakening, she was trying to cease what had already begun, no thanks to Daŕēus.
In all her misery, she finally gained enough strength to stand. Her hands were trembling. Her blurred vision raced forward as her door opened. A servant wearing white robes and a golden blindfold of thick lace brought forth yet another message. Samanthŕa could hardly look at it.
"Are you ill Priestess" The woman sniffed the air, using senses empowered by Chymeŕah. "I sense distress."
"No," Samanthŕa said trying to steady her voice. Her hands held the message shaking profusely. If it was from Dĩas, after what she was now suffering, she would scream. Quickly, she dismissed the servant and stumbled to her vanity. She nearly knocked it over as she parted the scroll noticing Chymeŕah’s seal.
"Dear Goddess, no." Her eyes filled with liquid horror. It was concerning Samanthŕa’s brother Staphãyn. It seemed he had renounced his bloodline and his immortality. He was nowhere to be found. Her mother had left for Dĩas’ realm. Samanthŕa was nowhere to be found . . . she was with Daŕēus. There was no time to look. Chymeŕah had to rush away. No time for anything but this note.
The scroll fell to the floor and so did Samanthŕa. Her body was now trembling like her hands. Her heart was crying-- no, screaming-- out in pain. Worry swelled her thoughts. Now was not the best time for her to receive bad news, or such shocking news as that. The herbs still waged their hostilities inside her. She was weak, in torture and now emotionally broken.
Once she could collect her thoughts, she rose, but barely. No one could find Staphãyn but her. If he was found, he could die. Dĩas might kill him for his offence, son or not. Evil would certainly kill him to claim the powers which he had renounced, which she as High Priestess possessed temporarily. With any luck, he would allow her to give them back. She prayed he would rethink what he had done.
She dressed though doing so was a challenge since the potion was moving through her three times stronger than ever before. She’d thought she could handle it, but in her thinking she had underestimated everything. She played a dangerous game with her body. Everything she chose seemed dangerous.
The black kirtle she put on burned against her sensitive skin. Her boots felt binding and caused her feet to throb within them. She couldn’t even do anything with her hair, for the slightest touch against her scalp made her want to fall and cry in agony.
Despite the sickness and pain, she left Chymeŕah’s palace in search of her brother. She was thankful she was in Chymeŕah’s realm and thankful that it was not Dĩas’. She didn’t have the energy or strength to take him on right now.
She didn’t have to worry about Evil or any attacks by it, since it was daytime. The only thing she made sure to do was to dim herself so that any Phãegen who might not be used to her kind wouldn’t be frightened.
The village was busy as always. Phãegens were scurrying about trying
to accomplish their daily routines, trading, buying, gossiping. Farmers were bringing in their fresh crops. She expected the ordinary and that’s what she noticed, nothing more and nothing less. Her mind was on Staphãyn and focusing on the only thing left between them, their withering bond.
She came to the Tavern, which she had no intention of entering. Those memories of the last time she was here were still fresh in her mind. Staphãyn was not inside, or so her painful senses said, so it didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was somewhere on the premises.
She felt him stir, his thoughts, his soul’s essence, from one of the rooms kept in the back portion known as the Inn, rooms that lodged only Phãegens. This was smart of him, since her kind would not have thought to look there. They would no doubt be searching the immortal lairs underneath the Tavern, not above it.
She hurried to the back entrance and went inside. She kept her cloak’s hood pulled over her face while she walked the crooked wooden floors of the establishment. She passed each door, raising her hand inconspicuously, until she felt him. Fighting the sickness of the herbs, still she felt him.
A spell was over the door, a Phãegen spell. It was created to confuse anyone who was immortal or of negative nature. Samanthŕa sensed a woman’s hand invoking it. She smiled. This spell held no power over a Priestess, especially since she served the Phãegens of the village. She had open invitation as well as dominion over anything they did. She had open ingress into their Templus, into their homes, into their lives. She was not negative. She also had a bond with Staphãyn which his heart still held onto. She could feel that, even now. He may have renounced the blood and his immortality, but he had not renounced her. Not yet.
Samanthŕa opened the door. Why should she knock? She rethought this decision once she found Staphãyn standing with his sword pressed to her throat. His face nearly collapsed when he saw it was her. He lowered the weapon as well as his eyes. Samanthŕa caught her breath, acted as if it never happened and calmly shut the door.
“If you have come to change my mind you are wasting your time. I have no intention of undoing what I have done.” He said this in a low voice as he dropped to a sitting position at the end of the dusty, tattered bed. A woman leapt from it and dodged to a dark corner, trying to hide her nudity with a blanket.
Samanthŕa raised a brow at her. So this was the Phãegen who led her brother’s heart astray? What was so special about her that she was able to twist his already disturbed mind into walking away from what he truly was? The woman who hid in the shadows raised a cloaking spell over herself. Samanthŕa almost laughed. It worked like knots forming an invisible net around her. It would take nothing for Samanthŕa to unravel it. Her mind began to do so, pain or not.
"Hello to you, Brother." Samanthŕa said with spite. Then, imitating his voice. "Good morn, silly Vii. Glad to know you survived the Nosophoros last eve. Why, how did you manage to get yourself out of that one?"
"Enough." Staphãyn scolded her, weakly.
"Yes, enough. More important matters to deal with right now, isn't there?" She narrowed him into her sights. “You know they are looking for you, Dĩas and the Elders? Chymeŕah is even doing so."
"Why would your mother bother? Let me guess, she wishes my destruction too?"
"I doubt her reasons are the same as theirs. I doubt she is as angry as Dĩas and the Elders either. You know she has always favored you.” Samanthŕa told him this as she walked around the small room. “This, I imagine, has broken her heart. You know how she feels about blood being precious and all of that.” Part of her mind still worked the mortal woman’s cloaking knots.
“Of course I know.” Staphãyn laughed. He was slightly hung over. He reached for his flask and took a drink and fell back onto the bed, placing his hands behind his neck. “Now ask me, silly Vii, if I care.”
“I know better,” Samanthŕa said as she wiped a bit of dust away from the aging mantle of the room’s hearth. She was sure her face showed a bit of her disgust. Just a few more knots to go, she thought. To think this woman believed she could work magic against a Priestess, Phãegen magic at that. “What I want to know is why, and do not tell me it is your love of this Phãegen. I know better.”
The Phãegens meant the world to her as well, but she would not renounce who she was in order to be with them. She would not offend the Goddess in such a way. She did them more good having the power and title that she had, not renouncing it. Aside from that, Staphãyn’s soul belonged to another. He was Strygĩ, which meant he was someone’s Awakener, or at least he was once. She wasn’t sure what would happen concerning that now. Had he cursed not only himself but also another Vii of their bloodline? This actually horrified her. "Why do this, brother?"
“Silly Vii, Silly Vii.” He mocked her, laughing. “You know why. I refuse to be the pawn of Dĩas any longer. I refuse to mingle with those sheep pretending that they are my family."
"We all lose our way." She spoke softly. "We are not beyond the reach of redemption. We should not give up on each other. We should stand by our blood until the webs can be washed from their eyes. We--"
"They are not family."
"Stephãyn,"
"The old ways are dead. Family is dead. They are no better than Evil.”
“Nonsense,” Samanthŕa scolded him. “Am I evil? Is Dezarãe evil?” She could go down the list but didn’t. She did not know how long she could block her whereabouts. She did not want Staphãyn found, fearing what they might do to him. Weakness and sickness filled her from the herbs. She didn’t have a lot of time. “There are many in the families who have not changed. Not everyone can be judged by Monéaklá and the likes of her.”
“It’s only a matter of time before they are all like her. Or are you hoping the Father of the Blood will change that? Is he the source of your new faith?”
Samanthŕa hissed but refused to be baited. “Is he now on your list of those to hate? I’d be curious to know your reasons.” She truly wanted to know. She needed another opinion concerning him.
“On the contrary,” he smiled. “I am completely rooting for him. I hope he tears Dĩas to pieces, to be honest with you. The friction between those two!” Staphãyn exhaled quickly, making a windy noise. His eyes awoke with excitement. “If anyone can right the families, then he can.”
“If you trust him, Staphãyn, then let me take you to him. He can undo what you have done and correct these wrongs. You can work with him. Wouldn’t that be better than sitting here drinking your sorrows away?” She knelt before him while her voice softened. She touched his hands gently and felt the jealousy of the woman in the corner rise. The female felt threatened by Samanthŕa. Phãegens rarely understood the bonds between those of Samanthŕa’s kind because the bonds were deeper. They were not born the same, conceived the same and they certainly didn’t feel the same. Their love and affection ran deeper, or it should…. Just a couple more knots.
“It’s too late, sister. I am done. I would like more than anything to join with the Father of our Blood, but I cannot. You have to trust me. My reasons are, well, I have my reasons.” Staphãyn told her this with such sadness drowning his voice. “I can tell you though, that you need to be careful. Things are not always as they seem. We were raised on that, remember?”
Samanthŕa nodded. "Yes my dearest brother. Chymeŕah would say it as often as she reminded us that blood is precious. Do you remember?" She felt tears stir in her eyes.
“I have always remembered even if the blood is no longer precious." He kissed her forehead. "It is sanies," which meant impure. He whispered, "Do not be silly, little Vii. If this Father of the Blood is what they say, then stay close to him. Dĩas and the Elders are not to be trusted,” he added.
Samanthŕa raised a brow. “Staphãyn, what happened to finally push you over the edge? You and Dĩas have never seen eye to eye, but something must have happened for you to do this.” It didn’t make any sense to her. Renouncing one’s blood and immortality? He could have just left. Others did, l
ike the Lycãons. In fact, Kaléé would have welcomed him with open arms.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He slipped himself away from her. “For my sake, let it go.”
“Think of others who will be affected by what you have done. Think of the Vii whom you are destined to Awaken…” she started to say when she heard the Phãegen groan with jealousy. Stephãyn turned quickly towards her. He shook his head, asking her to silence her emotions. He turned back to Samanthŕa and spoke with haste. “I belong to no Vii. I am poison. And heed carefully your words, sister, for you know not of what you speak.”
Samanthŕa was slightly floored by his answer but she had other things on her mind. She worked past the last knot. The spell shattered. Her eyes became wide. The woman, the Phãegen woman carried Staphãyn’s children-- twins. “She is with child?" How was this even possible? "Is that why? Did you renounce your blood because of your seed which grows inside her?” Samanthŕa spun around to this new direction. The woman started to cry and she ran with fear to Staphãyn’s arms.
"Do not let her destroy them!" She wailed.
“Forget what you have seen,” Staphãyn growled. The last of his beast resonated in his throat. Samanthŕa felt it dying. It broke her heart. To feel something so alive choke with what little life it had left. She wanted to die too. Dear Goddess, what misery!
“Why must you always meddle?" He was so angry. "All this time sitting here working at our protection spells. You sneak and break them! Sometimes you can be as bad as Dĩas!”
“You think I would harm them? You think I would harm your unborn babes?” Samanthŕa was even more shocked now. As if the thought of a Phãegen becoming pregnant by one of their bloodlines was not enough to throw her off the mountain of sanity, to think she would destroy any child of his? Staphãyn had never spoken to her in anger before. He had never raised his voice. It nearly crushed her.
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