by T. C. Clark
Even now surrounded by the beautiful mystery of Atlantis, her thoughts centered on the directions to the Dragon realm’s library and she knew that at some point today she would find herself buried in the books there. That’s all that mattered to her brain.
She sat up quickly, chanting a spell to ignite the fireplace. The dragon realm was cold, like the armpit of Alaska cold. It had taken her days to adjust to it. She looked around the antique style room. It reminded her of a California coastal style interior with its old-fashioned wooden furniture and white linens. The only difference was the deities that were placed in all corners of the room; she grimaced as she passed a well-hung Minotaur.
She could see the morning light coming through the large windows. She was always surprised at how Atlantis existed without direct sunlight. She still couldn’t understand how it was possible? But that was something she could learn today. Her brain sent her happy little endorphins to speed up her dressing process.
She’d seen every version of supernatural down here openly using and accessing their power in public. Even she had to admit it was a wonderful sight. She couldn’t even imagine using her power above ground definitely not with the Human Council in existence.
They were as bad as the warlocks when it came to dealing with witches. Yes, if she was being honest she preferred the rules of Atlantis to the rules of the surface world. But it still was home and with Lorelei there unprotected she needed to get back soon.
The Keeper’s coven was infamous in all of the realms. Each witch that joined was a prime witch, and that meant they were the strongest in their specialty of magic. That’s why they’d each gained the title of a keeper.
They now had twenty members and with each day they grew stronger in power. They were led by the three most powerful witches in all of the world. Myra the keeper of lust, Anna the keeper of rage, and Sara the keeper of terror, their powers alone could take down Atlantis.
Opal knew that’s why the inhabitants here were so suspicious of them, often refusing to speak or interact with any witch from their coven. The reality was that they’d all joined forces to survive, with great power came even greater threats.
Opal found herself pacing as she thought about the past. The Amants held powerful magical blood and most of their women were born with some type of power and as a result, nearly all of them were hunted down by warlocks and other greedy supernaturals who wanted a taste of that power for themselves.
At least their mother had explained exactly what to do in case the inevitable happened. So when their parents were mysteriously killed, the girls had left quietly in the night disappearing into the world, lost and alone.
It had taken everything Opal had to keep them safe. She remembered clearly the first time she’d been forced to kill. She could still see the life draining out of the vampire’s eyes; it had traumatized her ten-year-old brain.
Her sisters were different from her. Anise the keeper of earth and Lorelei the keeper of life could only help with healing and protecting, they weren’t built for fighting offensively. Their power came from life. The one time Lorelei had tried to fight for them she’d passed out and stayed that way for almost three days.
So Opal had taken on the chore and with each fight, she grew colder. She knew that whatever was happening to her was not good. When she’d been at the end of her rope so tired of running and fighting they’d heard of two other Amants who’d disappeared into the world. Opal knew that they needed to find them, her sanity depended on it.
Secretly she hoped that their powers would be more useful. She could still remember their first meeting with the long-lost twins of their family. Myra and Ida’s story was so similar to theirs that it had brought tears to her eyes. She’d often wondered if her family was cursed, their fates sealed by some outside force.
Myra’s power was unlike anything she’d ever witnessed and Ida even blind could fight better than she could ever hope to. They all knew that they could survive alone but together they would prosper.
After a year, all of them knew how to fight. Ida had made sure of that, she’d even advised her sisters on how they could use their powers to protect, noting that their powers were not meant to be used in fighting.
One night sitting in the kitchen they’d agreed to form their own coven…a coven that could house powerful witches that would offer protection to the weaker ones.
They’d traveled around the world protecting and rescuing witches, only inviting the most powerful ones into the coven. Now they were twenty strong and growing every day. They even had their own protection squad within the coven.
As they got older they’d spread out in the world, creating homes that were welcoming beacons for other lost witches. This was something Opal excelled at, witches came from all over the world to train under her. Apparently, she was considered one of the best teachers in the coven, and her pupils had been sure to let everyone know it.
Just last week she’d turned away three new candidates telling the coven she needed a break. She loved teaching but had found herself growing restless with each passing year. She was missing something in her life but she couldn’t figure out what it was.
Opal stopped pacing and ran her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. She needed to shower and dress. She had a few minutes before the Atlantian version of a library opened and she wanted to get there as early as possible to maximize her learning time…she frowned at that thought…she was such a dork.
She dressed hastily without much thought. Throwing on gray leggings and an oversized green sweater. She completed the look with bamboo jewelry and dark brown boots.
Absently she checked her image in the mirror. She definitely looked the part of the witch. Her long curly black hair falling midway down her back, frizz-free because of the copious amounts of coconut oil. Thank heavens for YouTube, for without it she would have chopped off her long hair years ago.
They’d been sent here to collect information on the Mortem flower for Lorelei. Her sister needed this particular flower for a werewolf patient she’d taken in. She’d practiced enchanted healing for years and if she had personally requested this flower then it was important.
Lorelei and Anise knew Opal hated leaving her home and seldom asked her to do so. She’d taken her time after she purchased it, making it perfect for her particular style of life.
She’d created a large library with multiple computers hooked up to high powered servers; she would spend days trapped in that room devouring information.
Opal had done well in Atlantis, not only collecting all of the information Lorelei would need; she’d also taken one of the flowers. She picked up the vial and examined it. It smelled of rotten eggs and was a reddish-yellow color. It looked more like an animal than a flower.
Opal had never seen anything quite like it, but she could say that for most of the things in Atlantis.
She slipped it into her small pocket, adjusted her scarf, and headed out the door. Anise had chosen to leave the vial with Opal knowing that she would take the duty seriously.
As the wind hit her she pulled her light gray scarf tightly around her neck, cursing as it picked up in speed. Opal was sure Anise wouldn’t miss the departure time knowing that it would cost them another week here.
The werewolf that Lorelei was caring for was definitely dying. Her sister had gone curiously silent on the nature of her relationship with the wolf. But something was up, she’d seen the look that passed between them when she’d visited Lorelei’s house. She would definitely have some explaining to do the next time she saw her.
Even flighty Anise had been curious about the large muscular man that was sleeping so quietly in Lorelei’s room. His large bear-like hand wrapped tightly around one of her pillows. He looked like an angel asleep, but both Anise and Opal had recognized the ancient symbols that marked his light brown skin.
He was one of the ancient Atlantian werewolves which meant that he was powerful and most likely dangerous. If he’d been awake Opal would have th
reatened him but as it was she left Allison, the keeper of Alchemy in charge of Lorelei’s protection.
Allison was part of the security sector in their coven and they didn’t mess around when it came to protecting their members. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill the wolf if he became a threat.
According to Lorelei, he’d been poisoned by something, not of their world. Her concern was not only for the wolf but also for all supernaturals apparently it had been genetically designed to kill, which meant someone somewhere was successfully targeting beings with powers.
Opal shook her head clearing her thoughts she needed to focus on where she was going. If she didn’t watch her mind closely she would find herself obsessing about things. Often she found herself realigning her brain to focus on one task at a time.
She took the time to really look around and take in the glory all around her. Atlantis really was a beautiful place filled with small rustic looking cottages and medieval-style castles. It reminded her of a real-life fairy tale and she could see how it could inspire wonder in every outsider who entered it.
She saw the large green field she needed to cut through and quickened her pace. She created a small barrier under her feet, not wanting to trample the grass…she now thought about things like that thanks to Anise.
The smell of smoke and something burning stopped her cold. Even the energy had changed, she used her hands to sign a protection spell that could use the energy of the surrounding plants.
Instinctively she squatted down hiding in the overgrown grass. She trusted her intuition and right now it was telling her something was dreadfully wrong. She searched her surroundings looking for anything that was out of place.
That’s when she heard it. A roar of agony split the air, she barely had time to move when a large red dragon landed just in front of her. It spotted her before she had time to run. She’d always imagined dragons to have muted colored scales like the ones from her childhood books. Dark grey reptilian monsters.
But here in Atlantis dragons had vibrant colors in varying hues representing the different classes they came from. The dragon just a few feet away from her had dark red scales and yellow eyes. By the size, she knew he was a male and by the color, she knew he was a warrior.
She watched as he tried to stand and fell back down. He was severely injured and bleeding profusely out of his right leg. She trusted in her power but she didn’t want to test it against an ancient dragon. He struggled again this time roaring into the air above him. He was breathing heavily clearly in pain, but somehow he forced himself to his feet.
Warlocks at least three of them were descending from the sky. When she saw their colors she knew that what she had to do. They were Dement’s men or as they were called on the surface, soul eaters.
Dement was one of the mad four, a group of warlocks who ran crime and guns on the surface world. They created soul eaters and conjured demons with their dark and malevolent magic. A witch learned from a young age to fear those colors that his monsters wore so proudly.
The Mad Four took pleasure in the suffering of others and they created followers that did the same. Witches had been fighting them for years trying to keep the human race safe. She didn’t need to know what was happening to know she needed to help the dragon.
As she ran forward to intercept them she conjured up a spell…one that she’d read in an old Ethiopian book of shadows, it created a barrier out of the oxygen in the air. The beauty of the spell was that it didn’t require a lot of energy on her part.
She pulled the barrier over them just as they reached the ground. She would have seven minutes if all three of them used the full force of their powers to break down her force field. She stood close to the dragon allowing him to catch her scent.
She waited for him to decide if she was friend or foe. His massive head leaned in close, his emotionless eyes seared into hers. He inhaled her scent greedily, his eyes becoming luminous and bright.
He seemed to be vibrating with energy now and intent on ignoring his injury. He moved in front of her pushing her small body behind him, surprisingly gentle for such a brutal creature.
She smiled at his naivety. He’d judged her too quickly if he thought she needed his protection. Ignoring his silent command she walked back around, this time running her hand along his skin. His eyes rolled back at her touch and he seemed to enjoy it. She spoke directly into his mind, well aware that he couldn’t communicate back to her in his dragon state.
It’s your lucky day. I have a thing about Dement’s warlocks, a thing that requires that I kill them on sight. When the barrier breaks I need you to get away from me. I’m going to have to use what is left of my power to fight them. I won’t be able to do that if I have to protect you.
He shook his head quickly. His expression surprised as if the thought of fleeing had never occurred to him. She rolled his eyes at his macho stance.
Do you think you can honestly help me with your injuries? Those warlocks out there are soul eaters. They literally cannot return until their mission is complete. They will attack again and again until they’ve brought you down…I don’t have time to argue with you about this.
Still, he refused to budge his wound looked worse up close; she knew from the smell that they had poisoned him as well. She cleared her mind; she’d hope he would see reason and run. But she couldn’t physically remove him without hurting him so she would have to work with him.
She’d been in worse situations with less suitable fighting partners. She walked closer to him, forcing her way into his mind. She sent him soothing energy to help him relax, chanting an age-old incantation she’d learned from an Atlantian grimoire.
This close she realized his eyes were not emotionless, but filled with yearning. She examined his emotions, his scattered thoughts and was shocked. He was desperate to protect her; something deep inside of him was determined to keep her from harm.
She almost fell to her knees when his true feelings hit her. Whatever connection dragons had with their mates was intense. Even now his need to protect her warred with his need to mate her. His imagination made her blush.
She couldn’t worry about that now. She focused instead on his body; the poison they used was basic at best. But the amount they’d forced into him would take time to process out. She knew in his condition he would only be able to fight for about five minutes.
She peered through her force field and forced herself to examine each warlock’s strength. She let their energy flow into herself and grimaced as pain began to fill her body. Their powers were dark, evil ones that instantly reacted to her spirit. The one in the middle was the strongest.
The other two were clearly lackeys here to offer back up to him. She knew who to target now. She pictured in her mind her plan and sent her thoughts to the dragon hoping he would understand what she needed him to do.
His mind rejected the idea at first unwilling to put her in danger. Seeing his expression she sent him images of their death earning a loud growl from him. She saw his fangs lengthen as the image entered his mind, he moved his massive head closer. Without thinking she stuck out a hand and rubbed the side of his face.
It’s either my way or that’s what we risk…your people put a spell on me when I entered the gates, dulling my magic. My power is half of what it needs to be to deal with this and healing you and fighting them will surely drain me. This is our best shot, trust me. I’ve been over every option, examined every angle…this is what I’m good at.
At his nod, she knew he understood so she prepared them both healing him as much as she could until their time ran out. She could hear them cackling as the barrier began to break their desperation to get to her clear. She knew how Dement trained his men and they would be mindless with rage at being kept at bay.
She used their malicious enthusiasm to her advantage moving quickly out the way as the dragon rose to meet them. His adrenaline was high right now and the healing she’d done would help him through his fight.
She gave him
an extra push sending him even further into the air and turned her attention to the demon in the middle. His eyes were full of focused violence and they never strayed from her. He dropped down into the field and walked towards her uncaring of the violence unfolding just above their heads.
“Witch this isn’t your fight!” he snapped. He examined her closely she was a pretty little thing petite in size, with thick curly hair the color of midnight and sand-colored skin.
Another time and place and he would have taken her for himself. He could smell the power in her, warlocks knew not to waste their time on weaker supernatural women if they spilled their seed it needed to be in a supernatural that could add to their power and supplement their race.
The strongest warlocks always sought the strongest witches, to ensure a powerful magical bloodline. The witch that was taken was almost always unwilling, but even the proudest bitch could be broken.
He hesitated to hurt her because he wanted to collect her later. As he stood on the other side of the barrier he’d decided that this witch was the one for him. In order to secure her for himself, he would have to keep her away from the other soul eaters.
He grew hard at the look of distaste on her face. Yes, he would most definitely take her for himself, and if she grew too difficult to handle, he would devour her soul and take her power, a win, win if you asked him.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He would have to immobilize her quickly as he raised his hand his mind went blurry. Opal knew this was her only chance; he was too busy trying to figure out how to kidnap her, he didn’t feel her in his mind.
She was glad for this because she realized very quickly that he was too powerful to take on alone. In the surface world with the full range of her power, she would have been able to handle him easily but here, she would have to be cautious.
Warlocks and witches were given a certain amount of power through nature and genetics. Some like the Amant family were born extremely powerful while others with weaker bloodlines could produce only moderate magic.