The Choosing

by Darcy Sweet

  “Am I The Vessel?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

  “Roth thinks so,” he answered.

  “And you? What do you think?” I held out my hand to him.

  He nodded.

  “They come Mistress,” Hatha said, coming forward to once more tug on my arm, “Your magic will not work on them. We must go.”

  “Will you come to me? Tell me more?” I asked him. He did not answer again. Instead he pushed me back into an alcove off the corridor. Frustrated, I was about to go back to him when Hatha clamped a hand across my mouth.

  My heart jumped into my throat as I heard Nadar speak. “Astrid. Valco.”

  “Nadar,” I heard Astrid mock. “I thought this would be beneath you.”

  “This matters to me as much as you. Even more so perhaps.”

  “You should not have made yourself known to his Chosen,” she hissed.

  Nadar’s bark of laughter echoed off the stone walls. “You Astrid? You deem to speak to me of what should be done? That is priceless.”

  “Time is past for what should be done,” Valco’s voice joined the conversation. Low and buzzing with anger he said, “Vandarra lies on the brink of war Nadar. There is no time for should, only what must be done. The Dark Prince does what he must.”

  “No,” Nadar said softly, “he does what he wants. He always does what he wants.”

  “And yet you are still here my son. At my side,” Roth’s voice rumbled out of the darkness.

  Son? Nadar was Roth’s son. Hatha’s hand clamped harder over my mouth, stifling my gasp.

  “Come, we have not time to bicker in the hallway. We have much to discuss.” The guards opened the doors and a flood of light filled the hall. Hatha shuffled back further into the alcove. I pressed back into her.

  In the light I saw them both. It was obvious they were father and son. How had I not known before? They stood, walked, spoke the same. One light, one dark they were halves of the same whole.

  They met with the same reason.

  Me.

  Lies and secrets they withheld for their own purpose.

  I was a pawn, caught between two forces I could not understand because they hid the truth.

  The doors closed. My knees gave out and Hatha held me as I sobbed. She murmured soothing nothings in my ear as she stroked a hand over my hair.

  * * * *

  Hatha returned me to my chambers. She did not speak, but murmured soothing sounds as we walked. Stroking my arm she crooned at me as if I were a babe to be comforted. With each step I began to move out of shock into anger. I did not want comfort. I wanted the truth. I wanted answers.

  Roth and his lies. Nadar and his half truths. I was not Chosen. I was stolen. Decieved.

  “All is not as it seems,” Hatha said after she had closed the door to my chambers and led me over to sit on the bed.

  “Really?” I laughed. Hysterical sounds issued from me as if I were crazed woman. I could not stop them. Could not calm the barking laughter.

  “Shhhh,” Hatha soothed as she sat beside me and rubbed gentle circles on my back.

  I shoved her hand away, stood and started to pace the floor. I did not want her comfort. My breath came in pants. My words poured forth in an angry staccato beat. “No! No! No more. I want the truth. The truth Hatha! I know you know. I know it. No more lies. No more soothing words. You tell me now! Or… or…you leave. Leave!”

  Hatha stood, brought forth her arm and gently pressed her hand to my stomach bringing my angry pacing to a stop.

  “Please Hatha,” I said meeting her eyes with a desperate plea.

  She raised her hand to her head and tore free the black winged cap. “Fine. Mistress I will tell you. Please, just sit. Sit and I will tell you what I can.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed with Hatha standing before me. She did not speak, her fingers went to the long row of pearled black buttons at the front of her gown. She started at the high neck and quickly opened her bodice. I burned to ask her why she was undressing but I did not. I feared that she would leave if I interrupted. She stripped her arms free of the bodice until it hung about her waist. She wore a dark, short sleeved chemise under her gown. Her arms were bare, but not uncovered. I stood from the bed. She was marked. Black symbols like the ones on my forearm covered her whole arms like black sleeves or swirls. I touched the skin of her left arm, tracing my finger along an ivy like black drawing.

  “It’s not painted. Not like yours Mistress,” she said, answering the question that I was just about to ask.

  “What is it?”

  “Tattoo. Sarran tattoos.”

  “Tattoo?”

  “Permanent ink placed in your skin with a needle.”

  A needle. It would be painful. My nipples hardened, points of aching need that throbbed with the thought of a needle piercing skin.

  “Oh.”

  They were beautiful. Stunning swirls, some thick and powerful swipes of black others intricate almost filigree, in their detail. I trailed a finger over one that appealed to me and I felt a jolt of power race up my arm. Hatha gasped and looked up at me. She felt it too.

  “So it’s true,” she said, her voice thick with what seemed to me to be sorrow.

  “What’s true?” I asked, still tracing the patterns on her arm, loving the delicious surge that came with each brush of my finger on her flesh.

  “The power you hold. Even untrained you make spells. I feel it in your touch.”

  “Am I The Vessel?” I asked. No longer as afraid at the thought now as I touched her, almost comforted by it instead.

  “Yes,” Hatha said, her voice dipping into a moan.

  “Who are you Hatha?” Tell me.”

  “I am Hatha of the Coven Sarran Vere. I am handmaiden to The Vessel.”

  “Nadar’s mother? You knew her? But, you look too young.”

  “As Handmaiden to The Vessel I have been the recipient of her powers. The years pass with little change to my body.”

  “Was Nadar’s mother Roth’s chosen too?”

  “Yes. She was. She loved him and was claimed and destroyed by him.”

  “How?”

  “Please, Mistress touch me no more. I cannot think clearly when you do.”

  I nodded and removed my finger from Hatha’s skin. She shuddered and took a deep breath. I motioned for her to sit and she did, perching on the edge of the bed. I sat cross legged on the flagged stone at her feet.

  “I will begin with some history. You should know what came before.” She nodded to herself as she spoke, as if confirming she was on the right path. “In the past the Sarran worked with the Vandarran Masters. Equals, they shared power and resources, working together to rule. The Vessel had always been, like air, water, stone. She was a constant.”

  “How was she chosen? How did she know she was The Vessel?” I asked.

  “Novitiates, those with early power and promise were taken from all Covens in their sixteenth year and trained in preparation.”

  “At sixteen, that’s when The Vessel appears?” I asked. At sixteen I had been taken to live in Hawthorne. I showed no promise or power. If I had, surely I would have realized.

  “No. Not so early,” Hatha said with a shake of her head, “The Vessel comes of age at her twenty fifth year.”

  “Is there always a Vessel? Who was the last? Is there more than one?” The questions spurted from me. It was difficult to stop the surge. I had so many. So much I wanted to know. I bit my lip to gain control.

  “There was once always a Vessel. There is always only one. I do not know who came before, if the last was Nadar’s mother or if there was another between who passed. The Sarran ways have been lost by so many, it is possible that a Vessel could live and not know of her power. Perhaps even die because of it.”

  “What power?”

  “The Vessel’s blood and release gives great power. Dark Master’s sense it, they long for her blood and release. Crave it. To humans it comes as desire, a wanting that is ceaseless in her pre
sence. Sarran know it in your touch. The power that crackles beneath your skin. Once, long ago The Vessel was balance of power between humans, Sarran and the Dark Masters. A Council advised her. She shared her power as needed and kept the peace between us all with her wisdom and grace.”

  “What happened? What changed?”

  “Two hundred years ago a Vessel novitiate fell in love with a visiting Dark Master. She pledged herself only to him; he Claimed her and through the Claiming took control of her power. It was then that the Vandarran Masters discovered that The Vessel could be seized for their own gain. With control of The Vessel they did not need to share power with the Sarran or humans. Sarran Covens were attacked by the Vandarran Crown. Humans feared us, hunted us too. Killing Sarran killed the source of the Dark Master’s power. We went into hiding. Always in hiding. Always hunted. Many died.”

  Hatha paused and gave a shuddering sigh.

  “Were you attacked? How did you get here?” I asked.

  She gave a sad little smile. “Anja. She is why I am here. Nadar’s mother. Roth’s chosen. The last Vessel. Anja of the Coven Sarran Vere. She was always the bravest. Always the strongest.”

  She raked a hand across her face. Hanging her head she directed her words to the floor. “The Village where Coven Vere was hiding was searched by a Vandarran Battle Group. They were close to finding where the children were hidden so Anja showed herself.” Hatha lifted her head, stared out across the room as if seeing the image played out before her. “It was stunning. She stepped forth right into the throng of invading Masters and stripped, removed her clothes, slowly revealing her Sarran tattoos. Once they saw her they were no longer interested in searching. She saved the children. Saved us all.”

  I could see it all in my head. I saw her silver haired. Like Nadar. Standing naked and marked amongst the battle clad Masters. I felt her power.

  “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “Roth. Roth happened to her. He was in the battle group. One look at her and she was his Chosen. She was captured to be taken back to the then young Queen Beatrix. But Roth came to her cell and set her free. He arranged to have her taken to his castle and hidden.”

  “He forced her Claiming?”

  Hatha barked out a sorrowful laugh. “There was no force. She chose him too. She went willingly. Submitted passionately. Has he forced you?”

  I blushed, knowing the truth of her words. “No. There has been no force.”

  “The Crown was searching for her. No one knew that Roth had her hidden. He kept her, drank from her and grew stronger. With his growing power he masked her, hid her tattoos and brought her forth into society as his Chosen. He belonged to the Loyalist forces, those who wanted the old ways.”

  “Old ways?”

  “Loyalist Vandarrans wanted a return to The Council of The Vessel. Or so they said.”

  “Did he try?” I asked, still hoping to redeem Roth in some way. Find a reason for why I still wanted him, craved his bite.

  “He would not share her. The more he took from her the less he spoke of a return to the old ways.” Hatha sighed once more, closing her eyes a moment, as if speaking pained her.

  “He used her.”

  And he intended to use me.

  “Yes he used, but to bring stability to the Crown. With the power of influence he kept the radical forces behind the new Queen Beatrix from corrupting her.”

  “So he used The Vessel for good?”

  Did that make it right, I wondered. Should I have to submit for the good of all Vandarra?

  Hatha spoke slowly. Each word seemingly weighed and considered before passing her lips. “Yes. He did what he thought was right. And he thinks to do the same now.”

  “What of Nadar?”

  “I came to Anja when she was increasing with Nadar. I had heard that she was in the Night Palace and I came forward seeking out the Dark Prince to find her. I showed him my tattoos to prove my tale of knowing Anja. At great risk because it was punishable by death to be found with Sarran markings. “

  “She must have been so glad to have you,” I said, feeling a twinge of longing for a connection to anyone who truly cared for me alone.

  “And I her. I stayed with her until the end.”

  “How did she pass?” I asked.

  “She faded more than passed. The Vessel was meant for many. As she distributes power so it comes back to her. When she is chained to one she cannot live long.”

  “Roth knows this?” I asked, even as I knew the answer.

  “Yes,” Hatha replied, “He did not at the time of Claiming Anja, but he knows it now.”

  He intended to Claim me and drain me. Nadar knew it too. While he had not taken from me he had also not told me the truth, or protected me from Roth. I thought then on Astrid’s comment to Valco and asked, “Roth would not share Anja. Would he?”

  Hatha shook her head briefly, met my gaze and turned away.

  “But he will share of me. Won’t he Hatha? You know this.”

  Hatha nodded, “There is thought that if he does your power will increase as will your life expectancy.”

  I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them tight. So, I had the truth I had been seeking this night. Where now were my easy answers? The simple choices I expected to come with this knowledge.

  There were no easy answers.

  There was no black and white.

  Roth had Chosen Anja in love. Taken her power with the best of intentions. I felt for him, for her, even understood it perhaps. But understanding and acceptance were separate things. I could not accept this for me. I would not accept it.

  “Does Nadar support his father?” I asked

  Hatha shook her head but her answer was not as clear, “Yes and No. He supports his political purpose but not his use of The Vessel. Sarran blood runs strong in him, but that does not make him Sarran. He is Master too. The son is caught between two worlds. Sarran Coven law has no Claiming. Sarran witches give of their body and Magic to who they choose. The longing to claim and the need to share battles within Nadar.”

  “Because of me,” I whispered.

  Hatha nodded.

  I had seen that battle rage within his silver rimmed eyes myself. He wanted to take me but did not, could not as his father’s claim was still upon me. Nadar was caught between his loyalty and his conscience. For all his want to befriend me Nadar could not be trusted. And Roth, the Master I thought had set me free was truly just blind to all but what he could take from me.

  Who stood for me? I wondered.

  “Hatha, you were Anja’s handmaiden.”

  She nodded and I asked, “Are you mine?”

  “I am handmaiden to The Vessel,” she answered softly.

  “I am the Vessel” I said, half statement, half question.

  “Yes. I have no doubt.”

  “You are sworn to help me then?”

  “Yes I am,” she said, tracing a finger along an ornate band of markings that ringed the bicep of her right arm, “it is marked into my skin.”

  I stood from the floor. Pushing back my shoulders I jutted out my chin and in a voice I hoped worthy of The Vessel I said, “Hatha of Coven Sarran Vere I beseech you to take me to my people. If I am to be The Vessel I will learn my place with the Sarran, not Vandarran.”

  Hatha did not answer and for a moment I thought she meant to refuse me and my heart sank. She was still tracing the band around her arm, her finger moving faster and faster and then I noticed that her mouth moved too in a murmured chant.

  She jerked to a stop and slid from the bed to the floor. Coming up on her knees she nestled her face to the juncture of my thighs. I felt a surge of desire thick and fast as her lips moved against my mound. She chanted words in a language I did not understand. Heat poured from her mouth, through her words and threaded into me, through me. Tendrils of heat searched within and clenched me in pleasure. My muscles seized, heat crackled beneath my taut skin. Blistering, white hot, as if my pleasure came from the very center of
the fire. I came hard, without touch, without anything other than her breathing chant. My sex spasmed, wetness spurted in a warm wave to my thighs. As I came down from the magical climax Hatha pressed her lips to my mound and kissed the still pulsing point of my pleasure.

  I reached down to thread my fingers in her hair. Without her trademark cap and sneer she seemed much younger. Her hair was pretty, a light shining auburn. Loose from the fixed cap it fell to her shoulders in sleek waves.

  She looked up at me. Eyes not pinched in anger, I found her quite beautiful. “I will take you Mistress Vessel. I will follow you where you lead.”

  And so, with Hatha’s arms wrapped around my legs and her face nestled against my sex I made my first choice.

  My choice.

  My decision.

  Tomorrow we would leave. Escape Roth, Nadar and their web of secrets and lies and find my people. I would learn what it truly meant to be The Vessel and make my own choices from now on.

  Chosen no more.

  Chapter 5

  I spent the day after his return preparing to leave. In equal parts I feared and craved seeing my own Dark Master. I did not think my resolve could withstand a meeting with the Dark Prince. Even as I knew his deception and betrayal I wanted him. Even as I was so sure I did not want to be Claimed I still felt his seductive pull. I craved him. I did not trust that I was strong enough to resist this desire.

  I should not have been so concerned. I was quite clearly not high on his list of priorities. The day passed as did the night and still he had not come to me. Relief and disappointment tainted with shame at the pulsing need for his presence that beat beneath my skin.