Revelation: Trinity Part 1

by Gemma Humphrey

  Yet she could wield it so simply, the space in her body seeming to grow to accommodate it as it filled her. She held in her blood the power to control all that she felt. It zinged through her, was part of her, and she knew it would respond like another limb, compliant with her every wish.

  Her body felt stronger; less soft, more defined. Her arms, wrapped around Christian, showed no blemishes – the chicken-pox mark on her shoulder, her inoculation scar, all smoothed and gone.

  Outside of her body, she was aware of every living thing around her, could sense their consciousness, their purpose, their very heart and soul – from the buzz of students, somehow still dancing under the tents, down to the tiniest insects that scurried in the grass below.

  As Rose took a breath, feeling her senses enlarge and stretch, she found she finally understood what it was to be the Archon.

  Ben, his eyes glazed in shock, reached up to wipe away the tears still drying on his face. Rose sought out Ana as Christian stirred in her arms, seeing the shock as she gazed back – but also the smile. Relief, Joy, Wonder – It spoke of all these things, and Rose smiled back, grateful.

  Ana grinned, drawing a quick breath, before standing and helping Ben to his feet.

  Rose turned her attention to Christian as he lifted his head, his short moment of fragility gone as quickly as it came, replaced, once more, by the unending strength that defined him.

  She pulled him to his feet, and he moved to support her, lifting her, instead. He reached a hand out to her face, gazing into eyes which Rose somehow knew were different. Older. Not her own. His expression was apprehensive, trepidation washing through him as he assessed her, giving Rose a moment of doubt. Was she so different that he didn’t recognise her?

  But then he smiled, all anxiety melting away from his features and the light returned to his eyes.

  “Rose,” he breathed, and kissed her – the roughness of his mouth and the crush of his body against hers speaking louder than any words ever could. Pulling back, he rested his forehead to hers as he cupped her face. Rose smiled up at him, feeling light. Feeling home.

  Memories flooded in and, remembering Nate, she stilled, turning her gaze to the tent. Christian’s eyes clouded as he followed her gaze.

  “Go,” he said.

  Rose felt him carefully hiding his need to keep her close, and smiled. It quickly faded as she realised he thought she wanted closure, to see for herself as the demon responsible for her pain was removed and dealt with.

  Rose looked back to him a moment, undecided, before stepping out of his arms. She nodded briefly, taking a deep breath, before striding across the lawn to the tent, shifting through the planes as she went.

  ***

  Nate was being dragged across the floor, his wrists tied in what appeared to be ceramic cuffs, when Rose marched in, having seen the commotion the moment she’d stepped into the Shroud.

  She despatched the two men that held him with barely a glance in their direction – her amped up Repulsion no longer limited to messengers – watching in satisfaction as they flew into their black-clad peers, before kneeling down in front of Nate. The cuffs that restrained him dissolved into dust the moment her fingers connected with them.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked, ignoring the way he stared as he rubbed his wrists. “Nate?” She assessed him, looking for any indication of why he hadn’t moved to fight, before a voice cleared its throat behind her.

  “Ahem.”

  Rose cocked her head in its direction before she stood, turning around in one fluid motion. Apprising the man who had garnered her attention, she recognised him as one who had stood in the circle, fighting to break the barrier that contained her. She relaxed her protective stance over Nate – but barely.

  Carefully tracking the men and women who placed themselves around the tent behind her, she waited for him to speak.

  “So the Righteous Daughter rises from the grave,” he smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, “How like your Father.”

  Rose acknowledged that with a raise of her brow, finding his familiarity towards her slightly unsettling.

  “Who are you?” She asked warily, as he took a step towards her.

  “My name is Nisroc,” he paused his movement as he noticed her discomfort, “I am the Principality assigned to your Guardian.”

  Rose nodded, the only indication that she recognised him for what he was, and he took another step, standing next to her without a thought for his safety – as though he was used to being the most powerful man in the room at all times.

  Rose could see that he was strong, albeit, in a different way to Christian. The set of his shoulders and the way he held himself indicted a man who was rarely beaten, and he oozed a quiet, confident air of superiority despite the polite way in which he addressed her.

  Rose took measure of the eight men and women who waited for his instruction, surprised to find them infinitely stronger than he, and she wondered idly what he had done to achieve such obvious command.

  “We thought we’d lost you.”

  His tone was mildly curious, but Rose detected a flicker of hesitation in his words – as if he was deliberately hiding his surprise.

  Rose smiled coldly, not quite trusting as he continued to add conversationally, “Not that we’re displeased at your return.”

  “No thanks to you,” Rose added, remembering that their efforts had been in vain.

  “Yes, well,” Nisroc regarded her coolly, “That was unfortunate.”

  His causal dismissal of her apparent death rankled Rose, who found her irritation for the man rising.

  “So what are you still doing here?” she asked, hoping they could get to the point, “Since you failed in your task…” She left the remainder of her sentence hang in the air between them and watched the frown that creased his features, feeling vindicated.

  Nisroc said nothing, merely nodding his head towards where Nate had yet to move.

  Rose tensed as her eyes followed his gaze, “You won’t touch him.”

  Nisroc raised an eyebrow in delicate confusion, “You would spare the life of the man who took yours?” his tone was incredulous as his gaze snapped back to her.

  “Do I look dead to you?” Rose scoffed, embracing the surge of electricity that flowed through her, readying herself as the eight beings shifted around her.

  “He is Fallen. A traitor to God,” Nisroc was calm, but his eyes burned with contempt for the man who was beginning to pull himself upright, his initial shock of Rose’s return waning.

  Rose smiled, “But not to me.”

  Nisroc moved then, reaching out a hand, intending to push her aside as if she was nothing – but Rose stopped him mid stride, her hand gripping his wrist. The power of the Earths life-force that had felt so strong on her awakening was beginning to recede, but she knew that she was still physically stronger than he – if only for the moment.

  Nisroc gazed at the fingers wrapped around his arm in quiet consternation, pulling gently as if to test her grip. When he found himself unable to move, he raised his head, meeting her gaze with a small smile – as though pleased.

  Rose held him tight until he dropped his gaze, inclining his head in acknowledgement of her power, before she stepped back, releasing him. “You won’t touch him,” she repeated again, her unspoken challenge glowing bright in her eyes.

  He seemed to consider her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as they moved to where Nate had stood. Rose felt his determination in the face of his foe.

  Nisroc laughed then, a short burst of mirth quickly replaced with a knowing smile as he crossed his gloved hands behind his back, “It appears we are at an impasse.” He nodded to the sentient guards around them, who immediately turned and marched from the tent. “Very well,” he swept an imaginary speck of dust from his trench coat in an obvious act of disinterest, “I shall allow you this boon as a token of our… friendship.” He smiled easily as Rose bristled. “You have spared his life and you are now responsible for it.” He cr
ossed the room, throwing an amused glance at Nate as he passed.

  “Bite me,” Nate muttered. Nisroc just smiled and looked to Rose.

  “Keep that in mind, won’t you?” He nodded politely, before he breezed out of the tent, coat swishing in his wake.

  ***

  Nate watched Roc leave as he fought to control the confusion that threatened to engulf him – relief, shock and bewilderment whirling around his head in an equally matched fight for supremacy.

  He was acutely aware of Rose, felt her eyes on him as she waited, and was suddenly pensive of the quiet between them – despite the music and sounds of the party.

  Turning slowly, he met her gaze, feeling a jolt of shock as he registered the unfamiliar eyes that stared back. Unthinking, he reached out to touch her face in awe. “Your eyes… ”

  Rose smiled, and suddenly she was Rose again. Strong and new and very much alive – somehow saving his life when she should be condemning it.

  He pulled her into his arms, trembling with relief as she allowed him to hold her, so solid beneath his hands as he gathered her to him, needing more proof that she was real.

  “Forgive me,” Nate knew that he had no right to ask, even as the words left his lips, their soft whisper barely audible – but he was unable to help his request, knowing there would be no peace if she refused.

  Rose pulled back from their embrace.

  “Obviously,” she rolled her eyes, smiling softly.

  He closed his eyes against the tidal wave of emotion that flooded his body, her simple response lifting his heart to a level he didn’t know existed, buoyant in its absolution. He smiled then and, hearing a new song begin to play in the mortal realm around him, held out his hand.

  Rose smiled, placing her hand in his, and Nate kept his eyes on her as they swayed gently together. The only colour in a sea of black and white.

  ***

  Rose had barely stepped back into the Mortal plane before Christian had pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her.

  “That was far too long,” he whispered, the words a brush of air against her ear.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, sinking into the steadying heat of his embrace. She pulled back to look at him, noticing the bruise that discoloured his cheek with a frown. She reached up a hand, brushing it lightly over his face – and it was gone, leaving no trace. She worked to remove the dust and bruises she found scattered across his skin, but a mark, like charcoal on his arm, wouldn’t fade.

  Christian made no comment, tugging her gently towards the tent, where the Ball was beginning to slow. Rose pulled back, looking for Ben and, understanding, Christian let her go. She stepped over the grass to where Ben waited, feeling his trepidation. Rose immediately pulled him into a hug – refusing to let go as he protested.

  “You were gone,” he breathed, his body tense, “I saw it… ”

  “I’m here,” Rose hugged him tighter, feeding him strength as she felt him struggle to come to terms with what he’d seen, “It’s over.” She pulled back, comprehending for the first time since her re-awakening. It was over. They’d won – sort of. The thing she’d feared the most had come and gone, and they were all still here, all still intact.

  Ben’s tear-stained eyes lit up in recognition, finally accepting that she was here in the familiar way she grinned happily.

  “Never again. Understand?” His tone was stern but he reached up and gently ruffled her hair – an affectionate gesture from their childhood – and Rose knew she was forgiven. He held her close for a moment more, the tight ball of grief in his chest fading with every breath, before he turned to Ana.

  She smiled as he pulled her to him, taking him by the hand and leading him back across the grass, squeezing Rose’s fingers as she passed. Rose was in awe of her ability to accept all that had happened with no trace of doubt in her unending faith.

  Christian’s arms came around her as she watched them enter the tent, before he turned her around in a gentle spin. He held her close as they began to dance to the quiet melody that drifted across the grass to meet them, holding each other close in weary relief.

  ***

  Nate leaned wearily against his door, replaying his last moment with Rose. She had released him after the song had played to its end, stepping away with a tentative smile.

  “I… have to get back,” she’d whispered, and Nate had felt his heart sink.

  Of course. He’d all but forgot about the Guardian, who no doubt waited patiently for her return. He would view Nate as a loose end to be tied, so confident was he in Rose’s love for him.

  Nate had closed his eyes then, shutting out her apologetic smile as he processed what it meant. That, despite whatever she felt for him, she was devoted to the Guardian. He would never be able to love her as he wanted – completely, wholeheartedly.

  Knowing this had made his choice simple. Opening his eyes, his lips had grazed against her cheek for the barest moment before he stepped back, heart wrenching at the way her eyes shuttered, understanding the goodbye in his eyes. He’d held her newly violet gaze, steeling himself, before turning away and striding out of the tent, not looking back to see as Rose raised her hands towards him, before they’d fallen dejectedly to her side.

  Here in his room, Nate acknowledged the fact that he would never truly be free of her hold until she was gone from his life. His head tipped back to thud against the wood. He had no choice but to leave her.

  He swallowed hard against the loss that surged up in his chest, a quiet sigh of longing escaping in a breath, before nodding in determination, and whirling around the room.

  He packed up his meagre belongings, knocking over furniture in fierce abandon as he wrestled with his heart’s desire to stay and his heads desperate urge to go. He threw it all carelessly into the black holdall that he dragged out from underneath his bed– knowing, without doubt, that if he was going to leave it had to be now.

  Panting hard, he gazed about the room that was home to so many unexpected memories. So many times he’d loved her, hated her, plotted her death and ways to seduce her – all suddenly meaningless in his departure. Vowing never to return, he grabbed his bag and swung open the door. He strode away, uncaring as it bounced on its hinges.

  ***

  Christian pulled Rose closer as they danced, dizzy in the knowledge that it was finally over.

  With Hell believing that the Archon was dead, Rose could go back to being a normal girl. She could live out her life as he’d always wanted her to.

  And since the Prophecy had finally come to light, there would be no further need for a Guardian – Rose’s children, should she have any, would be free of the title her family had carried for so many generations.

  Astonishment washed through him as he realised that, should she have him, he could spend a lifetime by her side, and that his story would end with hers.

  “Rose –” he began, intending to tell her exactly how happy he was, but she cut him off with a gentle finger pressed against his lips.

  “We’ve forever to talk.” She reached up on her toes, replacing her finger with her lips. Christian smiled against her mouth before kissing her back, his heart filling with all the relief and happiness that she projected.

  After a long, blissful moment, Rose rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes in deep contentment as he twirled them under the starry sky.

  They had won. It was over. Christian heard her quiet sigh, and bent his head to kiss her reverently on the forehead, knowing that there would never be a moment more perfect.

  The first jolt of his body broke through his contentment like a bullet, the surprised gasp he omitted causing Rose to pull back in concern.

  The second felt like an iron hook had been stabbed through his heart, yanking him out of her embrace as his gasp turned to a whimper.

  When the third one rushed over him like vertigo, leaving him weightless, he understood – and his eyes shot up to meet Rose’s worried gaze even as his chest contracted in terror.
r />   He was Concluding.

  He struggled to process the hows and whys as he jerked again, falling to his knees as the strength was knocked out of him, leaving a ringing in his ears.

  Rose followed him down, her eyes searching and afraid as her mouth formed a question that he would never hear.

  “Rose –” he barely had time to whisper her name, hands reaching up to touch her face, before his body jolted a final time – and he was gone.

  ***

  Christian seemed to flicker, and Rose felt him shudder in her arms as a shock ran through his body – alien, even to her. She reached for him as he stumbled from her grasp, clenching her hands tightly in the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to hold on to him.

  He flickered again, her hands holding nothing for the barest of moments.

  When he fell to his knees, she went with him, his blind panic washing over her, heart thudding in her chest as she realised what was happening.

  She opened her mouth to ask – to confirm what her heart already said to be true, when she read the pain in his eyes and knew it was too late.

  “Rose –” his whispered cry echoed the anguish that flared in her chest as he reached up to cup her cheek.

  His fingers never made it as, with a final flicker, he blinked out of existence, and Rose was left alone, kneeling in the grass, hands empty – her sobs the only sound in her suddenly void world.

  ***

  Epilogue

  Christian gazed out at the land below him, barely seeing through desolate eyes. He could see for miles from his perch on the hill’s summit. Had time to consider the forgotten beauty of his bleak surroundings, despite wishing he didn’t.

  Limbo. The realm of the Forgotten. Where those who were banished from the grace of Heaven spent eternity, no longer under the reign of the Father.

  He’d known where he was the moment he’d arrived, seeing the signs in the barren landscape, the autumn hues and sepia tones giving the impression of an old faded photograph.