by Shuler, Tara
Requiem for Darkness
Requiem Chronicles: Book One
By Tara Shuler
http://www.TaraShuler.com
Copyright 2011 Tara Shuler, All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
Chapter One
Sharon Hall stood before the altar she had erected in her basement, a bowl of flaming liquid dancing brightly before her. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply of the intense fumes, relishing their power. The smoky herbs burned her eyes and throat, but they strengthened her.
The summoning spell would bring forth a servant of Satan – one who would, she hoped, allow her to bargain for stronger powers. Sharon had always been a weak witch, much to the dismay of her parents. The fact that she’d married a human was even more of a disappointment to them.
Ever since she was a child, all she wanted to do was impress her parents – to become the powerful witch they always wanted her to be. She hoped a bargain with the Dark Lord himself might help her attain the power she so desired.
“I call upon the powers of the Dark Father and the Earth Mother this night,” Sharon chanted, holding her hands upward in prayer. “Send to me a servant of your kingdom, that I might make an offering onto you.”
Sharon cast a handful of dried sage leaves into the flaming bowl. They burst into flame and sent their pungent aroma into the air. The flames morphed from a bright orange to a subdued blue. They flickered briefly, and were quickly snuffed out by a gust of wind that seemed to come from nowhere.
Behind her, in the now darkened room, Sharon heard a deep voice ask, “What is your request, mortal?”
Sharon whirled around to face the voice. A shadowy figure stood before her, hidden in the darkness. She could faintly see two glowing amber eyes glinting menacingly in the shadows.
“Welcome,” Sharon said, bowing before him. “I wish to make an offering to your Master.”
“What have you that would interest my Master?” the shadowy figure asked.
“I wish to offer him my soul,” Sharon returned.
“My Master has no need of souls,” the voice boomed. “What is your request?”
“I wish to become a more powerful witch,” Sharon answered simply. “I will offer anything in return.”
The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows and into a shaft of moonlight that filtered through the tiny window into the basement. His wavy brown hair flowed over his shoulders, and framed a milk white face.
He reached his bony white hands toward Sharon, and took her face in them. He closed his eyes and stood motionless for a moment. Then his eyes popped open, and a wicked grin spread across his lips.
“There is nothing you can offer my Master,” he told her.
“Please,” Sharon begged. “I will do anything!”
“I can personally give you what you want, but you must make me an offer,” he snarled.
“Anything! Whatever you ask, you will receive,” Sharon conceded.
“Your daughter,” he growled.
Sharon’s hand rested on her lower abdomen. She was only a few weeks pregnant with her first child. She had yet to even tell her husband.
“Daughter?” Sharon asked. “You want her soul?”
Sharon’s stomach twisted into knots. Her knees were wobbly, and she placed her hand on the altar to steady herself. She wanted – no, she needed – the power this demon could give her. But it was her child. So innocent, so precious. She was a child conceived in love with her husband. How could she do such a thing to her own child?
“Yes. Your child will be a girl,” he told her. “But I have no need of her soul.”
“Then what is it you wish?” Sharon needed to know.
“I ask only that she marry my son.”
“Marry your son? That’s all?”
“That is all,” he said, as if it were nothing at all to be concerned about.
Sharon thought for a moment. Perhaps marrying the son of a demon would not be so bad for her daughter. Perhaps she could get her out of it. She was sure she could find a way. She could never let her precious daughter marry the son of a demon.
“Fine. I agree,” she conceded.
“Give me your word that you will not interfere when the time comes.”
“You have my word,” she said, bowing before him.
“My name is Azmond,” he said. “Remember it. On the day of your daughter’s eighteenth birthday, my son shall come to claim his bride.”
“Understood,” Sharon agreed.
In a gust of wind, Azmond was gone. Sharon wondered for a moment if perhaps Azmond had forgotten his end of the bargain, but as her fluttering hair settled down, she felt a sharp surge rush through her body. It jolted her as though she was being electrocuted, and her muscles seized violently. She tossed her head back, and her neck locked. Her teeth began to chatter as her entire body trembled. In mere moments, she fell to the floor.
As she lay there gasping for breath, Sharon realized something had indeed transpired. She was, at the moment, too weak to attempt to use her new power, but she could feel the difference. No longer did she feel like the weakling she’d always been. Now, she felt like a god.
She heard the basement stairs creaking, and she struggled to pull herself up off the floor. The footsteps on the stairs grew closer, and her husband appeared. Seeing his wife lying on the floor, he rushed to her side.
“Sharon, what have you done this time?” he asked, noticing the smoldering embers in the bowl on the altar.
“I’m fine, Tom,” she said. “I just got a little dizzy.”
“Dizzy? What’s wrong? Are you sick? Are you hurt?”
“No, it’s…” she paused, unsure whether it was the right time to tell her husband about her pregnancy. “I’m… pregnant.”
“Pregnant…” he murmured. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Tom. I’m certain.”
“Oh, darling,” Tom whispered. “We’re going to have a baby!”
Tom took his wife in his arms and held her close. Clearly, he was thrilled at the news. Sharon, on the other hand, was ambivalent. While she had always wanted to have a child, the timing was inconvenient for her. She had wanted to wait until she was at least thirty-five, and she wanted more time to practice her witchcraft. At twenty-four, Sharon felt as though her life had barely begun. She had so much she wanted to do, and a child would be a great burden to her.
Still, the child was a blessing. She loved her husband, and she knew she would come to love the child in time. She already felt a motherly need to protect her.
“You need to get some rest,” Tom said firmly.
He got to his feet and lifted his wife’s slight body into his arms. He carried her upstairs and placed her gently in their bed. With a soft kiss to her forehead, he exited the room and turned the light off.
Sharon lay in the darkness and sighed. She was annoyed at her pregnancy, irritated with her husband, and frustrated with her own weakness. She might now have power greater than she ever thought possible, yet she was unable to test it.
She fought to stay awake, but she was overcome by weakness. She knew she was about to become powerful beyond her wildest dreams, but for the moment she was weaker than she had ever been. She finally succumbed to the exhaustion, and drifted into a deep sleep.
When Sharon awoke, it was as if she were seeing the world for the first time. Her senses had become heightened. Colors were more vibrant. Sounds were louder, yet not unpleasantly so. She could even feel the microscopic imperfec
tions in everything she touched, things that had once been imperceptible to her.
Her husband was sleeping peacefully beside her, and she brushed his wavy hair away from his face. She loved him more intensely than ever before. Even her emotions were intensified.
Then she remembered the bargain she had made for her powers. Her daughter, her innocent baby daughter, would one day marry a demon. Sharon placed her hand gently on her lower abdomen, stroking it protectively.
“I’m sorry, little one,” she whispered. “I did what I had to do. But I promise you, I will make it right. Somehow, I will figure out a way to fix this.”
Her heart swelled with both pride and remorse. This little life growing inside her was the product of the love between her and Tom. She loved her baby with everything she was, but it hadn’t been enough. The need for greater power had consumed her, and it was all that had mattered.
Surely, she could find a way to take it back without losing her power. She had to. She couldn’t let her precious daughter marry a demon. Yet, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her power. She would simply have to find a way.
Chapter Two
The warm morning sun filtered through the sheer, white lace curtains and fell across Beth’s face, rousing her from her peaceful slumber. A contented smile spread across her face, and she yawned and stretched, welcoming the morning with cheerful joy. It was January tenth, her eighteenth birthday, and she was overjoyed to greet the day.
Beth heard a gentle tap on her door, and it creaked open slowly. Tom Hall beamed proudly at his beautiful daughter.
“Good morning, princess,” Tom sang. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, Dad,” Beth returned, squinting in the bright sunlight.
“Are you ready for a super fun day?” he asked.
“You know it,” Beth agreed.
“Do you want to sleep a little longer?”
“No, I’m up. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll be down for breakfast.”
“Do you want to go out for breakfast, or would you rather stay in?”
“Can we go to The Blue Plate?”
“Anything you want, pumpkin. It’s your birthday.”
“Cool. I’ll be down in a little while.”
“Your Mom and I will be waiting.”
Tom smiled at his daughter once more, and he backed out of the room and closed the door. Beth had picked out an outfit the night before, and she took the pile of clothing into her bathroom and laid it across the laundry hamper. She took a fluffy towel and washcloth from the linen rack and hung it over the towel bar, and then she slipped off her pajama bottoms and let them fall carelessly to the floor.
“Nice,” said a male voice behind her.
She whirled around, her heart jumping into her throat. Before her stood a man so stunningly handsome that he hardly seemed real. His eyes were a rich amber, and his brown hair was disheveled in a way that seemed too perfect to be accidental. He grinned at her playfully.
Beth grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her waist, backing away. She meant to scream, but somehow the sound would not come. She bumped into the shower door, and she gasped.
“Now, now,” the man said, his voice light, but mischievous. “There is no need to be modest. After all, you are about to be my wife.”
“What the hell? Who… who are you, and how did you get in here?” Beth asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, dear,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Did your mother not tell you?”
“Tell me? Tell me what?”
“Do you even know what your mother is?” he asked curiously.
“What are you talking about?”
“I see your mother has told you nothing. Tsk-tsk. What a shame.”
“I don’t understand. How did you get in here?”
“That is inconsequential. But there is a lot you need to know, so I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
“What? Are you crazy? I’m not going anywhere!”
“Oh, sorry. Did I say ‘ask?’ That’s not really what I meant. I’m not asking you to come with me. You are coming with me.”
With that, he reached out and grabbed her hand. She suddenly felt woozy, and she almost fainted. Her body drifted through a dark haze, as though she were dreaming. Within seconds, she was standing inside a house so grand and opulent, she thought it must be a palace.
It was very dark inside the immense building. Outside the windows there was nothing but pure darkness – a richer black than Beth had ever known could exist. Inside, candles flickered in wall sconces, casting an eerie orange glow onto the rich brown woods on the walls and floors. A massive wooden staircase ascended to an upper floor, and arched doorways led into rooms on either side.
“What happened? Where are we?” she said, once she was able to stand without falling.
“I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that question,” he said truthfully.
“Why are you so cryptic?” Beth demanded, crossing her arms defiantly in front of her chest.
“Listen,” he told her. “This is going to be a lot to take in. So perhaps we should just take it in stages, hmm?”
“Alright, why don’t we start with your name?” Beth asked.
“I am Aztos, son of Azmond,” he replied. “And you are Elizabeth Ellen Hall, daughter of Tom and Sharon. You are also called Beth, correct?”
“Yes. How do you know all this?”
“I know a lot about you, Elizabeth,” Aztos told her truthfully. “I have been waiting for this day for a very long time.”
She should have been frightened and confused, perhaps even angry. Yet, somehow this situation didn’t seem as unusual to her as it probably should have. In her mind, it seemed strangely normal, though she wasn’t sure why.
“What have you been waiting for?” Beth wanted to know.
“Today is our wedding day,” Aztos replied.
“Our… what?” Beth demanded. “You can’t seriously expect me to marry you. I don’t even know you! You barge into my bathroom when I’m half naked, whisk me away to God knows where, and tell me we’re getting married today? Are you insane? I mean, holy shit, dude.”
“Okay, first of all, I highly doubt God even knows where this is… nor does He care, I would imagine,” Aztos said. “And secondly, I may be insane, but I am not a liar.”
“If you think I’m going to marry a complete stranger – and one who is as odd and rude as you, no less – you must be insane,” she muttered, glaring at him.
“Marry me, you will,” Aztos said. “Your mother has given her oath, and so it must be.”
“What oath? What are you talking about?”
“I believe I can answer that,” a voice echoed from somewhere above.
Beth turned her eyes toward the location of the sound, and she saw a striking figure bearing down on her from the staircase. He descended the stairs so gracefully, it was as if he were floating down instead of walking.
This man had the same amber eyes as Aztos, but his face was much older. His brown hair was long, falling far below his shoulders, and his skin was frighteningly pale.
Beth suddenly remembered her state of dress. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she remembered the towel around her waist. She looked down, and was surprised to see herself now dressed in a flowing white gown, which skimmed the top of her bare feet.
“I am Azmond,” he introduced himself. “Almost nineteen years ago, when your mother was only a few weeks with child, she made a bargain with me. I gave her power beyond the wildest dreams of a mortal witch, such as herself. In return, she promised you as a wife for my son.”
“Why would she do that? I’m her daughter!”
“Because your mother has never wanted anything more than she wanted power,” Azmond answered. “She was willing to offer anything, including her soul, to obtain it.”
“She was going to offer you her soul?”
“Indeed she did, or at least she was about to,�
� Azmond said. “But as soon as I touched her, I could see what you will become.”
“What do you mean? What have I become?”
“Not what you have become,” Azmond corrected. “What you will become.”
“Then what will I become?”
“That is not something you are currently prepared to understand,” Azmond explained. “You will in time. However, you could not begin to comprehend it at the moment.”
“Alright, look,” Beth said. “I’m really getting angry. Why don’t you just take me home, and we’ll forget this ever happened, okay?”
“You cannot go home,” Azmond said gently. “You belong to my son, now.”
“Okay, stop right there,” Beth growled, her temper now fuming. “I don’t belong to anyone. And I don’t care what my mother promised you, I’m going home!”
Beth turned toward the door, intending to storm out. However, Aztos caught her wrist and twisted it painfully, pulling her toward him.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” she shrieked.
Aztos’ eyes narrowed, and the amber color within them shifted and swirled like storm clouds. His face was just inches from hers, and she could feel his burning hot breath on her face.
“You will go when I say you may go,” Aztos snarled. “Until then, you will do as I say.”
“Let me go!” Beth shouted defiantly, struggling to free herself from Aztos’ iron grasp.
“Aztos, release her!” Azmond boomed, his voice tinged with rage.
With a defiant frown on his face, Aztos pushed Beth away from him, releasing her wrist with such force it was as though he were throwing it away like he might toss aside an empty paper cup. His breath was so ragged and deep that his shoulders rose and fell visibly. For the first time, Beth was truly frightened. She backed away from Aztos, rubbing her throbbing wrist.
“Please excuse my son’s behavior,” Azmond said gently. “He is not himself.”
“I should hope not,” Beth muttered.
“Aztos, go see to the preparations,” Azmond commanded. “Now.”