Immortal Essence Box Set: Aligned, Exiled, Beguiled

by RaShelle Workman

  Worlds divided them. Chance brought them together. Only love will save them.

  Praise for the Immortal Essence series

  “A fantastic short story, where the characters seem to jump off the page. Ms. Workman captivated me.” Jek Jamison

  “I’m so glad there’s a full length novel that follows this short story. I loved this!” Heartsong reviews.

  "The book was filled with adventure, secrets, and romance, keeping the reader on the edge of their seat." by LM Preston.

  "I... felt like I was literally out of this world for a while." by Melissa Lemon.

  "Loved it from the first page and was thrilled to be reading something so richly creative and engaging." by Tahlia Newland.

  "It's in Michael's and Venus' darkest hours that you can't put the book down." by Brenda Drake

  "The twists and turns left me breathless and the writing is beautiful." by Taryn Taylor.

  "I liked the way things were described, along with the dialogue." by The Golden Eagle.

  "What a ride!" by Taffy Lovell.

  "I love a book where the details fit together like pieces in a puzzle..." by Rachel Morgan.

  "I fell hard for her characters and found my self rooting for them." by Debbie Davis.

  "Her journey and struggle capture the imagination long after the story ends." by Rosie Connolly.

  "RaShelle does a wonderful job of creating the angst we all feel when life hands us lemons." by Gail.

  "Writing that moves readers to ponder their hearts is good writing, and that's what readers will find with Workman. She's a dedicated writer,talented, and passionate. Readers won't be disappointed. Her protagonist is strong willed, her antagonist is easy to hate, and her mentor is easy to love." by Kathleen Brebes.

  "Michael and Venus have probably been the best pairing/couple that I've read about this year! GO READ THIS BOOK! You will love it." by Nancy.

  "It was incredibly interesting and I thought that RaShelle did a fabulous job establishing Venus's world." by Burning.x.Inpossibly.x.Bright.

  "I enjoyed the atypical love triangle-- one that didn't throw me into extreme frustration-- and the idea that love is deeper than just physical feelings." by Shallee McArthur.

  "Truly, at its heart, this is a romance, and a well written and enjoyable one at that. For me, that says something. I'm not a huge romance fan, but this story sucked me in so much that I found myself looking for a spare moment ANYWHERE to read." by Karen Hooper, author of the award-winning Woldchild Saga.

  Main Menu

  Aligned: An Immortal Essence Short Story

  Exiled

  Beguiled

  Afterword

  Additional Works by RaShelle Workman

  Indelibles Link

  Contact Information

  Copyright Information

  Table of Contents

  Aligned: An Immortal Essence Short Story

  In the beginning…

  I am someone.

  But, I have no idea who.

  There is a planet called Earth, with one sun and one moon. That isn’t where I live. How am I sure? Two suns and two moons rotate across my sky.

  The name of this planet is Kelari.

  My home is in a cave at the base of a mountain peak. From its entrance I can peer further down the mountain, over the tops of lush green trees, and dense foliage, all the way to the cerulean waters of the sea. It’s always warm, and humid. Sometimes stiflingly so.

  On Earth, I know there are forests, deserts, high mountains and deep bodies of water. There are animals, insects, and birds. The name of every species, every creature, is somehow known to me, as is all of Earths’ history. Every color, every shade, every hue—from robin’s egg blue to periwinkle—can be pulled from my mind. How I know these things, where I was born, and who my parents are, remain unknown.

  I’ve never seen anyone on this planet similar to me, but I’d recognize a human if I saw one. My memories are chock-full of them. I think I am one. Or at least I used to be.

  When it comes to me, this is what I know for sure: I look like a human male. When I first arrived, I grew a lot. My face and body changed almost daily. So did my skin, which started out amber brown, like maple syrup. Currently, it’s closer to cinnamon, probably from the suns. My eyes are spring grass green. The color of my blood was a reddish-orange. Now, no matter how hard I try, the surface of my skin can’t be punctured. I don’t even know my name.

  My first day here I opened my eyes, and screamed like a girl (no offence to girls, it’s just I’m a guy). The reason is a gigantic black cat-looking thing had her face right in front of mine. She licked me with a large sand-papery tongue. I hate to admit to another girly-scream as I rose on my elbows and tried to back away. She roared, shaking her long mane. Then I cried. She roared again. I cried some more (this is embarrassingly sad, but give me a break; I was only seven or eight).

  Her voice entered my mind. Hush, child. Stop making all that racket. My head is going to burst.

  I cried louder. She snorted, turned away and lay down at the entrance of our cave. Enormous black wings pounded the air as she settled in. Her giant body blocked the entrance, and my only escape. Whimpering, I huddled against a wall.

  Much later, my curiosity got the better of me, especially since she hadn’t made a move to eat me. At least not yet. I decided to try and reason with her. “Hey! Hey, you.”

  She turned around and her voice spoke inside my head again. Can you understand my thoughts?

  I nodded. “I think so.”

  She shook her head. Use your thoughts so I can comprehend what you’re saying. Your verbal noises are incredibly grating.

  Concentrating, I asked, Are . . . you going to eat me?”

  No, young one. My name is Mithrith. I am an irrihunter. And you are?

  I thought and thought, realizing I must have been given a name, but I couldn’t remember. I don’t know. I stood and took tentative steps toward her. She was massive. All black with short fur, the same as a panthers. Face like a saber-toothed tiger. The ears, mane and tail of a horse. And then there were her wings. Not the same as a bird’s, but a bat. You sort of remind me of a dragon.

  She roared. Ever met a dragon? That is insulting. Take it back.

  Sorry. I stepped away, wary, but asked, You met a dragon?

  Once. She looked nothing like me.

  Sorry, I repeated, disregarding my urge to bombard her with further dragon questions. So, um, where are we? How did I get here?

  This planet is called Kelari. You were dropped in front of my cave by a great bird. He spoke to me in my own language and asked me to watch over you. A good thing he said something, otherwise you’d be digesting in my stomach.

  I fled to my corner (a mighty warrior).

  She made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like laughter. Come back. Don’t be silly, child. I won’t eat you, you’re too small. Your tiny carcass would get stuck in my teeth.

  Promise? I asked, though I knew she wouldn’t.

  Promise. Now . . . She lay down and began licking one of her paws, her midnight-blue eyes focused on me, thoughtful. What shall I call you? Mmmmmm. She closed her eyes and I thought she’d drifted to sleep. I’d about decided to do the same when she said, Sticks.

  Sticks? Why sticks? Braver, I reached up to touch the side of her face. She was soft as chinchilla fur.

  Because child, you’re so small I could use you to pick my teeth.

  From then on, we were inseparable, Mithrith and I. She’d explained she was the last of her kind, so I did my best to keep her from getting lonely. She took care of me; taught me her language, an
d told me about her life (Mithrith was old). She even let me fly with her a few times so I could search for others. She said she’d never seen creatures that resembled me. Still, she helped me explore.

  It’s been seven hundred and eighty-seven days since Mithrith died. I burned her remains, as she requested. The fire devoured her body. Pain consumed my heart. I miss her terribly. No, “miss” isn’t fitting. When she died, a part of me died with her. The ache has lessened some since my visions of a girl.

  The girl.

  When I’m awake, she’s there, a comforting phantom. Her presence is stronger while I sleep though. I don’t know who she is or how my mind has imagined her. But I’m grateful. I’d be lost to loneliness without my dreams. The girl has become the thread that holds my life together.

  Her body is fashioned after a human’s (probably because that’s all I know). Her hair is downy white. Sometimes she wears it in a long braid, the blunt ends reaching her waist. Other times her hair isn’t confined, but flowing, and it shines like a thousand stars. Her skin is metallic white, and smooth as glass. And her eyes, by the Heaven’s, each a blazing silver flame.

  She is the light to my dark. When our fingers entwine, everything is exactly right. A part of me doubts she’s real, but my heart, my soul, tells me otherwise. So I hang on.

  Waiting . . .

  I don’t know what else to do.

  ***

  Near my cave is a pool of fresh water. It’s part of a river that rushes down the mountain and over a cliff, into the sea. I’ve been here almost eight years and a trail has been worn through the lush vegetation to the pool. A canopy of branches, heavy with shiny leaves and wild orchid flowers dangle over the water. I use the pool for a variety of purposes. One of which is bathing. And that’s what I’m doing when I see the girl, the one from my visions.

  One second I’m washing important guy parts, scrubbing good, and thinking about her. The next I hear a branch snap, so I whip around, prepared to wrestle a creature I’ve name Fluffy (a cross between an irritated grizzly-bear and a gray elephant—that’s Fluffy—and he thinks this pool is his) and the next she’s there. Only not as a ghostly apparition, but solid.

  Do I act cool, or nonchalant? No. I gasp in surprise, drop my homemade soap, and plunge under the water.

  “Hello? Hello. Are you coming up?”

  Her voice is melodious. Sweet. I wonder if I’ve gone mad, if my years alone caused my brain to crack.

  I poke my head out of the water, just to verify she hasn’t disappeared. Nope! Still there, and with hardly any clothes on either. She’s wearing a gauzy . . . dress, which is shorter than her hair. It has a strap that goes over one shoulder. Another one binds her slim waist. On her feet are black boots that come to just under her knees. Her hair is down, a slight breeze lifting the ends.

  The dress is very, very tiny. She is very, very gorgeous. And it’s the first time I’ve seen a girl—with womanly parts (or any parts, for that matter)—up close. My body knows it and reacts. I take a deep breath to calm my heart, working to acknowledge she’s real. But, whatever, if I’ve gone crazy, then I’ll blissfully stay in crazy-town.

  “Hi.” I attempt a wave, but splash water in my eyes.

  A smile lifts the corners of her mouth, sending it to her cheeks, her eyes, and over to me. Its warmth scorches through my chest, burning away my loneliness.

  “Are you finished in the water?”

  “Yes, I’d like to get out, but—” I’m about to explain I’m naked when I hear Fluffy. “Don’t move,” I holler, trying to run in the water toward shore. No way am I going to lose her to some overgrown elephant-bear.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Fluffy is close now, his mouth wide open, flashing all one hundred of his razor sharp teeth. The edge of the pool is too far away. He’ll reach her first. So I yell, “No, Fluffy! No! She’s mine!” (I know, this sounds very selfish, even chauvinistic, but I’m under pressure.)

  “Fluffy,” she asks and turns around.

  At this point I don’t care that I’m naked. Nothing will matter if she gets hurt, or killed. I burst out of the water waving my arms. “Fluffy, stop!”

  The ele-bear has already stopped though. Fluffy is sitting on his haunches, whining like a little puppy, as though he wants her to pet him. Scratch behind his long, floppy ears.

  “Is this Fluffy,” she asks, rubbing his tummy. “He’s very sweet.”

  I try to pet him and he growls. “Yeah, and loveable,” I grumble.

  ***

  I’ve put on a pair of trousers, and brought the girl back to my cave. She’s meandering around the room while I start a fire. It isn’t for warmth, but protection. I glance over at her every once in a while, when she makes a noise. She’s picked up my makeshift broom, one of my shirts, and some herbs set out to dry.

  I still can’t believe she’s here.

  Finished stoking the fire, I watch as she picks up a purple Linastar feather and runs it along her cheek. “You are even more beautiful in person,” I say, my voice catching as I realize I shouldn’t have said that. Technically, this is the first time I’ve met her. She might not appreciate I’ve been dreaming about her for five hundred and twenty-three days.

  She places the feather in a basket already full of them, turns to me, and smiles. “As are you.”

  I feel my face get warm; my heart starts to beat like a herd of thundering horses. “Who are you?” I want to touch her, to feel for myself that she’s real, to stroke her hair, and . . . kiss her.

  A spark of excitement flashes in her eyes. She moves forward, so we’re toe to toe. “I am Aetha, Mother of light. I hold sway over all that is day.” She takes one of my hands in hers and presses my palm against her chest. Then she places her other hand over my heart. “You are Ith, Father of all things which delight the night.”

  I’m not sure what to be more surprised about—the fact that we’re touching or that she seems to know my name and says I’m a father. “Delight the night? What . . .”

  “Ith, together, we will save this planet and hold dominion over it for as long as we are needed.”

  “I still don’t understand. Are you human?” The answer is obvious, even though I don’t want it to be. Our forms are similar, but I detect differences. Her movements are gentler.

  “I am an eternal. My essence comes from the planet Stiel as does yours.”

  “Wait, I’m from there, too? Is Stiel another word for Earth?”

  “No, it’s in an entirely different solar system.” She shifts closer to the fire. “Should we sit?”

  “Sure.” I take out a hand-woven mat and place it on the ground.

  She shakes her head. “Why don’t we sit on chairs?” As she says the words, she moves her hands in the motion of a wave. Instantly, two high-backed, plush, velvet chairs appear.

  I stagger. “What the—”

  She winks and then the most beautiful noise imaginable escapes her throat. Laughter. It’s soft, like the tinkling of tiny bells, and a choir of angels. “Ith, there is much you need to remember.” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me over to a chair and playfully pushes me into it.

  “It’s spongy, almost like sitting on air.” Unable to stop myself I bounce up and down a few times.

  Mischievousness in her voice, she adds, “Or angel food cake.” With the grace of a tiger, she situates her lithe body in the chair, tucking her legs under her.

  “Tell me everything,” I say, thrilled she seems to have all the answers.

  She pushes a long strand of hair behind her ears. I resist the urge to take her hair between my fingers, to see if it’s soft as kitten fur, the way I imagined. She says, “You were born on Earth to a mother who was half human. You’re father is from Stiel, a large, white planet many, many galaxies away. As I said before, the inhabitants of Stiel are called eternals.”

  I hold up a hand. “Wait, my mother wasn’t totally human? Was she part eternal as well?”

  “No, she was half vapiria and half human. Her na
me was Isabel and she was stunning. Most important, she radiated kindness. As soon as your father saw her, he had to have her. He created a human form and wooed her. I believe he loved her, in his way. After several months, they were married.” Aetha clears her throat. “Not too many days after their marriage, he left, returning to Stiel.” She sighs, heavy. “Nine months later, you were born, a beautiful, bouncing baby boy.”

  A long, lost sadness creeps from my gut and trickles into my heart. As does anger.

  “Your mother wasn’t the same after he left. Her inner light went out. After you were born, she tried to love you, to care for you, but when she looked at you she experienced hatred. Your father returned to her several years later and saw the state she was in, that you were in. Furious, he took you from her and brought you here, to Kelari, and to Mithrith.”

  “My mother—Isabel—she’s dead?” My words sound hollow. I want to know, but I don’t.

  “Yes. She died a couple of years after Elian, your father, took you away. I’m sorry.” She leans toward me and touches my arm, her delicate fingers leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

  I rack my brain, trying to find a memory. “I can’t remember her.”

  “Elian, took them from you. He thought it would be less confusing, until I was able to find you.”

  The rage inside cannot be contained any longer. “My father is a monster,” I say, slamming my fist against the armrest.

  She sighs again. “He has been called a lot of things, including monster. You must understand that on our planet, we are created all knowing. We do not age. We cannot die. Though you and I appear human, we can manipulate into any form we choose. We are an essence, able to do all things. And your father was the first of us to be created.”

  I stand, my body itching to move. Rubbing both hands along the top of my head, something I do when frustrated, I pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Does that matter? My father still hurt my mother, broke her heart.” I pick up a large log and toss it on the roaring fire. It crackles and shifts, sending embers in all directions. A glowing ash touches my skin and turns gray.