by Poppet
So close to tears, she bit them back, looking the brutal bitch in the eyes, knowing no matter what she did, she'd pay.
After compounding the damage, left with no escape, she simply said, “Maybe I grew up a little.”
That was understood by the deranged woman as having turned into the village slut. Scorned, slapped, her mother destroyed her mentally, increasing the brutality she suffered by attacking her emotionally, physically, and psychologically.
I'm inside her head relieving a memory in an instant. The revelation and understanding is a constant drip of enlightenment. Every time I'm in her head I witness these images that encroach on every happy moment of safety she has. They're always there, just lurking, ready to grab her back into the black hole of damage.
I need to read up on psycho disorders because I know this isn't normal.
I keep moving, maintaining the rhythm, examining the information I just downloaded, holding her that little bit tighter and wishing to god she could climb into my heart and see I'm sincere, true. I won't give her safety just to rip it from her when she's vulnerable.
She had no safe place in the whole world. Not even in her own bed. She was a virgin, but couldn't defend herself because her mother had made her mind up. She also couldn't physically defend herself because it would send her mother into a flying rage, which would turn into hours of vicious assault.
I despise the woman.
My heart's breaking and I can't show it. I can't reveal it. She'll think I'm judging her, and she's already so fucking sensitive to misunderstandings.
Instead I rest my head to hide my eyes, caressing her skin and kissing her neck. “I love you, Zena. I promise to protect you. I promise.”
Her answer is to squeeze for all she's worth, snuggling closer.
She doesn't have to say anything. I can feel her emotions while I share her mind and plyx. She loves me so much it hurts. It scares her shitless too.
Rolling, I hold her, knowing she'll fall asleep while I'm around. I stay here, on guard for an hour every morning, holding her so she can rest, then I slip out, heading home, and we make new arrangements to meet up every evening when the sun goes down.
It was a promise we made after the hell we went through. We own the night. It's ours.
With her head resting on my chest, she falls asleep listening to my heartbeat, while I listen to the world wake and get noisy. How she sleeps through the pandemonium I'll never know.
I wait the alloted time and then carefully disengage, covering her with the duvet and tucking her in. Kissing her again, softly, I leave my t-shirt next to her pillow.
It's the silent promise that I'll come back again tonight.
Collecting my things, I sneak back to the passage, dressing and pulling my shades on before leaving, pulling the locked door behind me and double checking it.
I stop the borrowed Honda Fury in the next road, unzipping the jacket and withdrawing my phone.
Zauran answers on the second ring. “You okay?”
“No,” I say truthfully.
“What happened?” he says, sounding alert and territorial.
“I need you to make me an alpha.”
“Why?”
I stare at the curb with frustration. “I can't tell you why.”
“Then I can't make you an alpha.”
“For fuck's sake Zauran, let me keep some things private!”
“Sveta, I won't make you an alpha unless I have a damn good reason to.”
“I need to help a human. I need to heal her mind.”
I'm ashamed when my voice cracks, tears glossing my eyes for the entire fucking world to see.
Silence draws out while traffic circles around me, buzzing angrily and slicing off the last of my soul with this dastardly day.
“Okay...” he eventually agrees.
“Thanks. We'll discuss it later. I need to crash for an hour.” Swallowing my pride, I keep my eyes firmly on the handlebars as I speak to him with the full spectrum of the emotion I'm feeling, “Thank you Zauran.”
“Stay cool. Later.”
He disconnects, leaving me to do the same and resurrect my ego to get myself safely home.
Love catches you when you fall, but I'd rather prevent her from falling at all.
Chapter 8
Božena:
There's something magical and otherworldly about Belgrade after dark.
Most Gazela Road crosses the Sava river to Novi Beograd, and every time I cross the water, staring down at inky depths sparkling light into the night with drifting reflections, I feel as if I'm crossing a river of souls, crossing 'to the other side'.
It's perhaps ironic, or snidely poetic, that Sava means old man. I cross the Old Man to go to Pravus. A waterway, a spiritual tributary, a vein in god's arm that will eventually lead back to his heart. He is the oldest man, and the more I think about life, and the more I reflect on it, the more I realize nothing is trivial.
Especially not in Serbia.
The veins in this land all mean something more than just collected moisture... names communicate ancient legends and truths most of us never consider.
Hide the truth in plain sight and no one will question it.
No one will dive off the bridge to discover what's hidden in those black depths.
What else does the darkness hide?
In many ways going to Pravus is crossing over. In my heart I know it's the only place in Belgrade where I belong. It's hard being a misfit, yet the supernatural men inside Pravus look at me without judgment. When I'm there I feel normal.
It is liberating for my sanity to hide in the dark alcoves of the deep-set club nesting on the banks of the river. At the perfect angle behind the building you can sit and stare at Ada Ciganlija, on the island between the banks.
The phone message said to meet him here at nine. I'm a little early. Gazela Bridge hovers over the water like a rainbow road leading to heaven through the night sky. Traveling high above the water, I love the trip every single time I take it.
So many people talk about the Golden Gate bridge, but I would bet they haven't seen the new Sava River Bridge. It has long metal ropes suspending it, like a gigantic angel's harp waiting for god's fingers to reach down and pluck the first chords, to send a vibration of relief and love into the heart of Belgrade.
It's just a breath of time to god... a breath from the old man and his many rivers. Any day now I'll be taking this trip to Pravus on a beautiful fret board lined with lanes and lights, floating between heaven and earth, lifting me up for a supernal smooch.
Belgrade makes me feel safe, special, a part of something bigger and deeper than me. At night it is a fairyland where the earth is dark, quiet, and secrets mist up to glitter temptation to the restless heart.
It's a huge metropolis, but it's ancient. The history seeped into the land, into our veins, it clings to the night and exudes a fey atmosphere over the city when the sun slides away to hide. It makes me want to find a sacred grove and sit with my back against a petrified prehistoric tree and pen poetry, used as a channel for the mavka to reveal their mysteries through.
Mavka are forest nymphs who hide in sacred groves, waiting to open closed minds and reawaken the belief of how great the true Spirit is. They dance between the boughs and trunks with lesovyk, woodland spirits, who guard the secrets up in the mountains.
As instructed I took a taxi, and it's like returning home when I look at the huge bouncers on either side of the doors. The sight of the tall dark haired men is welcoming. I don't care how rough life gets, those two make me feel so safe when I walk through the scarlet doors into Pravus.
I don't really understand why I'm happy here. Maybe it's the crowd, they distract me, and I find people watching endlessly entertaining.
I wait for the taxi to exit the parking area before scanning the trees, looking out toward the Sava river, wondering if the rumors about murders are true. The more I think about the vampyre living here and lurking around Pravus, the more I think they're
the scheznyk. The vanisher.
As far back as the 12th century, it's recorded that the first creatures us Slavs worshipped were the vampyres and bereginyas. It predates our reverence for the first god, Perun. Perun is the Old Man the Sava river represents. It's no coincidence that bereginyas also means riverbank.
Which leads me back to vampyres. Scheznyk vanish. Only the vampyres seem to be able to be standing in front of me one second, and vanished the next. It's my private proof that the legends are true.
If the scheznyk exist, that means all the other magical stories are true too. I'm dating a neuri and know a few of them now. I once thought they were a figment of folklore, but they live, breathe, and love, just like me.
I've heard about Ellindt, Jowendrhan and Darise's sister. I never got a chance to meet her, but from what I hear she sounds like the living effigy of perelesnyk... the spirit of seduction.
I wish I had that gift.
Now that I think about it, maybe humans knew what they were doing when they changed the spelling of vampyre, to vampire. Vamp-ire. They are so angry, so full of hatred, and they oppressed us and forced us to neglect god in their favor. They rule with fear, not love, which is why the neuri hate them.
I almost melt out of my skin when a hand touches my shoulder. Snapping to face the owner, I return the smile with relief.
“You okay?” Akae whispers to me.
“Da,” I nod, yes.
Only now do I notice the bouncer with him isn't Zarak. I've never seen this guy before.
“Who's that?” I say, also muting to a whisper.
“Arsay. He's my older brother. He came first.”
Blinking back confusion, I look up at the new mystery... legend... a black vortex of questions never answered.
“Akae, I'm tired of the secrets. I feel like this whole city is built on ancient ground that swallows its secrets. As if underneath us are catacombs belonging to an evil cult that refuses to let light penetrate our minds or hearts.”
I don't understand it but the pain inside me mushrooms up, blistering my eyes with teardrops.
The enormous bouncer wraps his gigantic arm around me, completely blocking out the world and forcing me into his cave. The cave created with a body in a pocket of night.
“Arsay, I'm going for a walk. Call when you need me,” Akae says to the steps.
Air moves with a gust of wind as the man moves his hand up in acknowledgement.
Guided off to the stand of trees, Akae forces me to sit with him on a felled log at the edge of the mini woodland. It's so out of place here in Novi Beograd, it only just occurs to me.
He wraps my hand between his two huge ones, infusing calm and warmth into my skin. “Božena, there are many secrets we hide. We don't hide them out of shame, or because the secret is evil, but rather we're hiding good so evil can't locate it. This age is perilous, it's an age when who you are becomes clear, and more women like you return to society and lift men out of darkness. Darkness is many things, including ignorance. You are a secret, a slakax. You are pure light, yet you hide in a body. Light comes back to mankind to save it from darkness.”
“I'm not light. I'm dying inside every time I inhale.”
His smile is surprisingly gentle for such a badass motherfucker.
“Božena, it's no coincidence that I am here, or that Arsay is here. Arsay is so old, so incredibly ancient, most of this world think he's a myth. They think he's in heaven, with god, or bouncing around the universe battling fallen angels across the cosmos.”
A low chuckle reverberates out of him, thrumming the log we sit on, and it sickles all the way up my spine.
His arm moves to wrap around my shoulders and squash me against him, while he says hushed in my ear, “Can you keep a secret?”
“Who would I tell? I may as well be a specter for all the company I keep.”
“Arsay's name, means, The Most High.”
Akae pulls away to look me in the eye, his deep mysterious ones illuminate partially, for a brief moment, like fairy lights twinkling in the first forest.
“He's god?” I gasp, holding my breath, disbelief making me dizzy.
“He is the face of god. He is god's light. But we mustn't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret.”
“Why the fuck did you tell me that?”
“We hear your thoughts Božena. I heard everything you were thinking about standing there looking out at the trees and river. We make you feel safe because you are slakax, you are light. You recognize it in others even when they've hidden it from the sight of eyes. We couldn't hide it from the eyes of your spirit.”
“What the hell, Akae? Why... I don't... understand.”
“He's the only power in the universe who can exorcise satans. Only he can ensure mankind stay safe. He's the only door, do you hear me, the only door, to eternal life.”
“But he's a fucking demon!”
Akae bursts out laughing, shaking the dying leaves hooded over us to confetti down. Fall is here and so much of the earth is crisp with orange and red fragility.
“The answer is, you feel safe here, because here you are safe. We won't let them hurt the slakax women again. That's why we are posted here.”
“Akae, are you telling me you're secretly a good guy?”
“Don't believe what others tell you Božena, trust your instincts. We don't scare you - for a reason.”
“Answer the fucking question.”
He smiles, and it's soft enough to wrap a newborn in. “Zena, this is our secret, you can't tell anyone. But the next time you feel like the world doesn't understand you, it's because the world doesn't. You're more like us, than them. You're light, and light suffers in darkness. Arsay is here now for the final battle between us and the bringers of suffering. It's time this suffering ended.”
It's like he can see into my soul with the way he chooses his words. I have suffered. My whole fucking life.
Cuddling me in a hug of comfort, he speaks to the night in a mind to mind whisper, Arsay is God's flame. He rules the ophanim. He will burn evil out of our hearts, off this planet, returning the throne to its home.
I don't understand any of this, all I know is it feels warm, and safe, and I want to trust it.
Serenity sedates me, making movement impossible when I watch the motorcycle grumble its way across the parking area and stop.
My heart sighs with lust and love as I watch Sveta walk with his energetic bounce to the stairs, thumping fists with Arsay as if they're old friends, and then disappearing inside Pravus.
He'll be looking for me.
Let him look, Akae says inside my head.
*
Akae:
What I cannot tell her, but wish I could, is that Arsay's full name means, Manifest God.
God is here now.
Posing as a bouncer at a doorway.
At a portal.
She loves Pravus because it's the escape route. It's the door.
As long as Arsay is here, the slayers will slay no more.
It's good that the auburn headed neuri is her mate. He's the only one who can see the flame burning brighter in the hearth.
Does she know what his name means? Or for that matter what her name means?
Destiny has a sense of humor little Zena. Sveta means Holy One. He's come to save you. Little Božena, your name means divine... from God... of God. Divinity is your birthright child.
The time has come for the wrongs to be made right.
Arsay is the light that cannot be corrupted.
Samo Sloga Srbina Spasava. (Only unity saves Serbia.)
Nikola Tesla was born here, the legendary pioneer of electricity... the bringer of light to the dark.
It's for all these reasons and more that those of us in charge all now wear the Serbian Cross on signet rings. The four S's surround the cross... those with an eye for detail will recognize it is a hidden symbol for Gromoviti znaci. We carry the thunder, we bring the lightning... we are the guardians for the cleansing fire...
Fire will be eating darkness... soon.
But ours will be markedly different. It's not isolated to the sky. The boundaries have been broken and nowhere is safe from our rage.
One of these days I will explain your sisters to you. I'll take you somewhere safe and tell you how Zaria means sunrise... she brings the light back to the dark land. The name Zaria means 'protects warriors', and also means 'heavenly bride'. She removes bitterness and heals the cold heart. She is pregnant now with the first light of the new age.
The oldest, Phoebe, her name means Radiant. Zaria chose to give her light to Phoebe when Phoebe was immersed in darkness. When Seithe died, Zaria saved Phoebe from the pain of grief.
Zaria died to save Phoebe from darkness, by surrendering her spiritual radiance to her sister Phoebe. That's true love, that's true light. That is why the light of Spirit resurrected Zaria after death.
These three sisters are a gift to Serbia.
Now I must rejoin the sisters, somehow.
Samo Sloga Srbina Spasava.
Only when we unite the three sisters will their unity save Serbia. When we save Serbia, we save the planet.
Looking at the ring on my right hand, my gaze wanders to Zena's neck. She should be wearing a key, but instead she wears a necklace of jade.
Sveta's test will be if he can remove the jade and replace it with the key to her true home.
Chapter 9
Sveta:
She's not here yet. Good, I need a few minutes with Zauran.
Ducking back into the passage, I navigate the hidden route to Zauran's office.
Pausing outside it, making sure he's alone first, I knock once, then slide the hidden door open.
“I wondered when you'd get here,” he says, leaning back in his chair and pegging a pen into the holder.
He looks tired.
“How're things?” I ask, cutting to the chase as I close the door behind me.
