“You look amazing.” He flattered her, bowing in clothes that matched Dĩas’ only they were a golden tan. She could tell they bothered him as he kept tugging at the collar. No doubt, his beast wished to spring free. She was starting to understand that sort of torture.
“Thank you.” She felt a bit dizzy, for everything was happening so fast. “I am surprised to see you.” She offered a smile because of what he had been through. She was still unclear of the details but what little she knew was enough to imagine. She wanted to ask of the other Theŕéans but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not now, not during something like this. "Because of everything that has happened, I haven't had a chance to thank you for the night of the festival either . . . when you tried to protect me from the Nosophoros." She expected him to come back with something witty or flirtatious. Something like, you may replay me later--wink--while we explore the other ways a warrior such as I may serve you. She expected something, anything, phrases, and jest that were light-hearted. She had to admit she usually ignored or didn't realize him saying them until after he'd said it and left. But his mood was grim and his words nothing short of serious. "Dǒntáe, I--"
“I am told there is a hint of peace." He didn’t give her a chance to finish. She imagined he was just as uncomfortable as she was. He kept eyeing those passing or staring, his beast nearly hissing. "With what I have been through, I welcome it,” he leaned towards her and said softly into her ear.
“You’re not wary? I mean this is Evil we are giving so much faith to.” She spoke with the same soft secrecy so that her father could not hear. He was conversing with one of the other Elders, temporarily forgetting her.
“Remember when we were young? How we used to run freely and play without fear? Children of our kind populated the realms. I miss those nights, don’t you? Maybe we will see those times again if all this is allowed to come about.” His mind wandered into the past before he snapped his attention back to the moment at hand. “We all deserve second chances, I think. You are always mourning for the old ways, even if you know not what they are. Well these are the old ways, forgiving and accepting, are they not?”
“Yes but…” She started to say that this was different, that this could be the fiends behind his family’s attack, and that because of her memory of what was done to Dalaŕéah, she could not be so trusting. Yet the clanking of a glass and a call for attention silenced her. Faces, which she paid no attention to crowded about and the masses, joined, making the large ballroom seem suddenly far too small for her taste.
As an Elder began to speak, she tried to stand on her tiptoes, looking for Daŕēus. There he was, dressed all in black, his usual and preferred color, in a long tail coat making him look completely and utterly dashing. She smiled, her eyes danced as she felt his blood literally stir within her veins. Warmth drifted over her entire being until she saw Monéaklá squeezing in to take his arm. The sight of that repulsed her.
She sank back down, the essence inside her building in heat and anxiety, feeling Dǒntáe pull her to a place where they weren’t so confined. There were others still crowding around, but it was a little better. She became lost there, stunned, and now agitated-- but why?
“I think you all know who I am.” Aréel called out from beside Dĩas forcing Samanthŕa's stare to now burn through her. She was dressed all in white, which seemed to clash completely with her pale skin and reddish hair. “I speak for the Lakééms, the Vãlãhs, Veŕatüs, and Mãrquisŕas."
Having heard the names of three Evil families spoken aloud, made Samanthŕa's fists tighten. Her nails dug into her palms.
Aréel continued, "There comes a time when one grows tired of wars and trickery, unbelievably. We also realize our end since Daŕēus Dracuŕa, of the Goddess’s thirteenth sacred bloodline, comes back to us.” She waved a hand in his direction. She seemed nervous, which was unlike her; not that Samanthŕa had spent a lot of time in Aréel's cursed company. Her eyes also seemed to water and her voice wavered with regret and emotion.
A trick easily mastered by one so deceptive, she thought.
“As you heard, we renounced Evil and the Dark Matter. Yes, we even named the source of our power . . . Dark Matter . . . a name unspoken for longer than your memories can recall. We made all forget because you cannot destroy or have power over what you cannot speak of or name. We can no longer hold the illusion anyway since the Father of the Blood knows the source of us and he has clearly returned."
Something rumbled outside the castle. Samanthŕa knew it was the backlash of secrets being released though she didn’t expect much of a noise since Daŕēus had already named the source when he returned. He had even used the word Dark Matter with her.
"We come to you for acceptance, protection and pray we can now make a positive difference concerning all life on TEŔAH. With that being said, I bring to you dark revelations, Evil’s secrets and prophecies, in hope that we can bring an end to them, prevent them or whatever the case may be.”
The room was silent enough that a pin dropping could have been heard. After clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, Aréel continued. “Let us begin with Daŕēus Dracuŕa and the time when he was taken from you."
Samanthŕa's interest peeked. She touched Dǒntáe's arm without knowing so that she could better balance herself on her tippy toes.
"We, that stand here now, were some of those, not all, who tricked Dĩas centuries ago into trapping your Father of the Blood with the cursed Sleep of the Damned. With him gone, we knew that we could influence your bloodlines, tamper with your memories, and eventually cause each of you to turn Evil. We openly admit that now and ask for his forgiveness of these things.” She paused as if waiting for Daŕēus to say something, but he did not. “I understand; I would not be so quick to embrace us either.” She forced a laugh, wiped a bloody tear, and went on. “We have meddled in many of your lives without your knowing, especially concerning your Awakenings. We have cursed you in hopes of preventing them, which we succeeded with until now. Now we revoke our part in that and free all the Vii’s from such a curse. So mote it be.” She raised her hands, and then bowed her head while another vibration of power filtered through the room. More thunder pounded outside while the Viis seemed to feel whatever power Aréel released and gasped in awe as a change rained over them.
Samanthŕa claimed a silent power over herself. She wanted none of what Aréel vomited up throughout the room. She needed not her help at all concerning what she was . . . a Vii. She had tried to speak a spell to protect everyone else as well, but they had already opened themselves to receive whatever the serpent before them poisoned them with.
Fools.
“I would also like to break Evils' power and release your bloodlines for we cursed you as to prevent your couples from conceiving. As I reveal these things, may you become fertile and breed once again.” Aréel looked up as another wave of power filled the room and the thunders above shouted louder. She sighed again but in relief and then said: “Will the High Priestess step forward?”
Samanthŕa dreaded this and to her dismay, those in front of her cleared a path. Without choice now, she walked to the center where Aréel and her father stood. She felt the eyes of the room burning through her.
“There was a curse over your head, sparing you the horrid details of course, that if you Awakened, you would die, after unleashing a greater horror and curse that would befall your sisters and consign them all to madness."
"What?" Samanthŕa heard a few of her sisters gasp from somewhere within the room.
"We even foresaw the wicked herbs Dĩas would give you. We even influenced him a bit concerning that. We knew there was little chance you would survive them. In our hopes, either way you would be destroyed, Priestess, and we would then claim your powers since we set the curse in motion."
Samanthŕa wanted to rip her to shreds, but the constant sounds crying from her sisters kept her still. Let the menacing harlot speak. Perhaps when she was done, some of Samanthŕa's misery woul
d be released. She forgot her better judgment for a moment and allowed herself too . . . hope. Her sisters could be free from this if Samanthŕa simply contained herself.
"With us, we brought the bindings to such havoc and have released you and your people of them, this night. To show our good and honest intensions, we have the name of your Awakener written upon this scroll that we stole from the Vestibule of Scrolls centuries ago. I give this to you, to read and announce if you wish it.”
Samanthŕa took the scroll but did not break the seal. She simply wanted her sisters free . . . she didn't necessarily want to know who her own Awakener was.
Dĩas stepped down from the platform and took her hand. “Please, daughter, open it. Undo the wrongs that I have unwittingly helped them do.”
“You helped them?” She raised a cold brow. That's right, Aréel did make that claim, didn't she?
Aréel answered for him. “Not directly and of his own accord. We used his love for you and worked it against him. We fed his desperation to keep you safe which led to the, well, efforts he took, to keep you from Awakening.” She referred to the herbs. “You see we wanted you dead, and if you died by this curse or his efforts to prevent it, there would have been no bringing you back. I am sorry.” She looked away shamefully.
Dĩas raised Samanthŕa’s hands with the scroll. “Let me make it up to you. Let me read the scroll.” Before Samanthŕa could resist, because she was so taken aback by Aréel’s confessions, Dĩas took the scroll and broke the seal. A wave of power rippled through the room again, which nearly knocked everyone over.
With shaky hands, he brought it into the light. He read, he cried, “Dǒntáe Theŕéan is to be your Awakener.” A gasp exploded in the room as he collapsed to his knees. Samanthŕa looked up to find Daŕēus who just stood there, eyes blackened with rage. Before she could move, speak, or even scream, Aréel continued.
“There is more…” she pulled out another scroll. “ Many of you had your memories erased, for example Monéaklá Mãrquisŕa. You are not a Mãrquisŕa but a Lampiŕ."
What is this? What were they up to now?
"Your mother was Chymeŕah and you were stolen from her at the time of your birth. We also stole Samanthŕa from Kalãe Lampiŕ, switching you. That was the reason for her madness. The loss of a child she did not know but felt. That is the reason for your closeness to Staphãyn, Samanthŕa."
"My brother, yes, but by father only, and not by Kalãe," Samanthŕa refused to believe it. "Chymeŕah is my mother!"
"The scrolls speak the truth.”
Another gasp filled the room. Chymeŕah started to rage with protest. “Lies, these are lies!” Someone grabbed her.
“I don’t blame you for refusing me!” Monéaklá screamed and cried, burying her face or at least trying to, into Daŕēus chest. He moved away, though, so she was forced to run to Dĩas, who welcomed her with open arms.
"Tis why I have been so ugly." Monéaklá bawled. "Why I have felt so lost! Why I have hated Samanthŕa and the sisters so! I only wanted what my heart felt to be mine!"
“I speak the truth.” Aréel shed more tears. “These are the scrolls to prove it. You can verify these things with the Oracles.” The scrolls fell from her hands.
"Who do you think you are?" Samanthŕa hissed. "Ripping our lives apart like this! You think we will fall for this?"
“You must! And I must reveal these things now, for much is at stake. For all the Vii's must be with their proper Awakeners! Power must be returned! Daŕēus is Monéaklá’s destined Awakener.”
“This is madness!” Daŕēus yelled. “I am the Father of the Blood. Do you not think I know who I am to awaken? Do you think I am foolish enough to believe in such nonsense?”
“It is true,” Aréel begged him to believe her, handing him the scrolls. “While you were in the sleep, we tampered with your memories as well. It is all true and much more. Please, everyone stay calm so we can get through this. If these things are not announced by midnight then they will do you no good. Evil will still claim the power and they will be forgotten by morning.”
The room was filled with absolute buzzing, arguing, and screaming. “Samanthŕa!” Chymeŕah cried out, but the Priestess did not answer.
She was gone.
~Chapter 16~
Trust In me
***
I am dream, hazy dream.
Drawing unto you, wanton of me.
Trappings we bear; fear not these things.
For under these wings, you can trust in me.
***
Samanthŕa ran from the room and attempted to leave the Realm entirely but she lacked focus or even a destination. Her entire life had been literally ripped from her in just a matter of minutes. She nearly flung herself over the roof of the North Tower, needing air, needing the night, needing the moons to swallow her up and give her some means of escape. Tears burned her cheeks. Her hair was wild and fallen. Her dress had snagged and torn in her rush to free herself, possibly on a piece of furniture. Curse it all, she didn’t care.
In her agony, in her trifling disgrace of pain, in her complete and utter loss of birthright and those she adored, she screamed with all her soul devouring misery, falling helplessly to the cold, lifeless stones beneath her.
In an answer to that pain, feeling it deep within his soul, two arms of Daŕēus lifted her and misted them away before she could take notice of what was happening. The world around her changed to that of his Realm, to his darkened Gothic chamber, to the layered masses of furs before a roaring fire. Her limbs weakened, let go of him gently, but not his of her, no, he held on, pulling her tightly into him, there on the floor.
“It cannot be…” she bawled helplessly into his chest. “ Tell me this cannot be.”
“Hush now,” he soothed her, “and pay no mind to these lies. I promise you, we will get to the bottom of this. Just give me time and trust in me.”
She looked up. Seeing her reflection within his eyes, the glittering dust was smeared from her face, the raw splash of anguish bleeding through in its place. “All I have ever known, taken. All that I am…my birthright, my mother…gone.”
“No, I will not allow it. I know who you are. I know.” He said this with words that held the power to carve stone.
“But they said, they said you do not know. They said that your memories have also been taken. They said you belong to…” she could not say her name. She could not speak the name of another especially where he was concerned. Not in that way, no, never in that way. But why? Why couldn’t she say it? Why was her mind in conflict with what she felt, deep inside her very soul?
“It is not true. Do not give them this power. Do not believe.” He grabbed her face with his hands and brought it forcefully, passionately to his face. His hungry lips devoured hers in such a way she never knew was possible. In such a way she never even allowed herself to dream. His breath became her breath. His blood, what little blood he had given, burned inside her, her beast screaming for release, her fangs, peaking, begging and dying for more.
The flames from his touch consumed her. The fire from his mouth that gave her such life frightened her. She jerked away, choking on her own misery and tears. Her eyes filled with paralyzing horror.
“No…” she managed to whisper. “ No…” she forced herself to her knees, backing away. “You are not mine. You…are…not…mine.” More tears spilled from the very eyes that shattered before him. Her trembling limbs were snapping her away as he obviously desperately needed to bring her back to him.
And silence, silence exploded a barrier of revelation between them. And that revelation spoke the most awesome of truths to her…for the first time, the very first time; she felt something…felt for a man.
Frozen by such genuineness, she managed to get to her feet when Chymeŕah’s withering voice called out from behind them. “My daughter…”
Samanthŕa had barely turned when her mother embraced her. Her tears created another landslide as she collapsed into Chymeŕah’s
arms.
“I care not what they say. I know what I feel and Monéaklá is not mine. You are my daughter. Tell her, Daŕēus. Tell her!” Chymeŕah ordered him.
But he said nothing, causing both women to cease their crying and look towards him. His eyes were bleak and cold. He stared soullessly into the fire.
“Daŕēus, tell her.” Chymeŕah demanded, begged of him. “What will we do to correct this?”
“I have told her already. There isn’t anything else I can say to convince her. She believes more the ramblings of supposedly reformed Evils than she does in those who embrace her.” He tone was rigid, shocking and without a word more, he left, slamming the door.
“We've no time for the mysteries and nonsense of men. Come,” Chymeŕah wiped her face and took her daughter by the hand. “My mind will remain clear and on track! Let us return to our Realm. “
“But,” Samanthŕa started to say, looking towards the door, wondering if she should go after him. Something, possibly his blood within her, urged her to . . . urged her--
“Leave him to his thoughts. I am sure this is as overwhelming to him as it is to us. In times of tragedy and deception, it is up to women to know what is best and what needs to be done. Come,” she raised her hand to mist them away. “Women set things right. We were made in the image and the strength of the Goddess. Such is the way of things.”
And they were gone.
***
Four nights passed as Samanthŕa heard nothing from Daŕēus. Chymeŕah’s Realm remained empty. Not even the sisters came. Rumor was they were making their visits to Daŕēus’s Realm, though, to see the Brothers, but Samanthŕa had not heard hide nor hair of them. Weren’t they concerned that her birthright was being ripped out from underneath her? Why would they be? Nor did she hate them for it. They were free to Awaken now, as were all the other Viis' whose names of Awakeners were released daily by the lips of Aréel. Not that they ever needed the names revealed before. If Evil had not tampered with the fates, a Vii and her Awakener would have found each other naturally. Unfortunately, nothing would come naturally concerning anything whatsoever, for quite some time.
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