Bound By Blood

by C. H. Scarlett

  “Nay,” he said with a lifeless voice. “But Dĩas and the Elders would.”

  “Staphãyn, you sacrificed yourself for your unborn children? This I can understand, but you would have been able to protect them more if you had not renounced--” She tried to say it, but he cut her off.

  “Listen to me.” He let go of his woman and grabbed Samanthŕa’s arm. He forced her to him. His eyes were furious. “It is not the only reason. Now go, before you bring trouble down upon my head. Meddle no more, woman.”

  He pushed her back slightly, which nearly destroyed her. Staphãyn had also called her woman, not sister. She felt him slipping from her, slipping. He was changing. He was distancing himself from her. It was crippling, especially in her condition. The woman behind him slightly smirked. To her and her jealous heart, this was a triumph to ease her insecurities. Samanthŕa could have easily made her regret that smirk. She was above that, though. A jealous Phãegen wench was no match for her but she didn't have to prove it. Her heart was too broken for such pity tricks.

  Samanthŕa moved away. She was thrown off. She was silent for a moment and then spoke softly. Her voice distanced itself, as his had done. “You must leave and move further into the realm of Phãegens."

  "What?" Stephãyn seemed surprised.

  "Maybe you can travel to the realm of NORSŔAH, for I am told they have resurfaced. Since they are the masters of the Phãegen bloodline, maybe they will protect you and these children.” It was the only idea she had. This had never happened before and to be honest, she wasn’t even sure how it was physically possible. Still, there had to be some hope for him and his children. She needed to believe that. “Travel during the day’s light.” She respected his decision even though it was causing her more pain on top of what the herbs were giving her. “Some Realms, Phãegens can still move through with ease. Stick to those, shift in and out. Don’t stop until you have to.”

  “Thank you sister; you will always be in my heart.”

  She felt the fading bonds between them return, if only briefly. He kissed her on the forehead. He hugged her as if it were the last time. Was it the last time? She wondered, as tears threatened her eyes again.

  He whispered close into her ear. “Ask the Father of the Blood to release the Vii I was to Awaken. I am not sure this can be done but if it can, he will know how. Ask him only when you know it is safe for me and I am gone. I do not wish to endanger you. I do not want to make you a part of my crimes.”

  He pulled away and said in a normal tone. “Remember what I told you. Do not trust Dĩas or those who surround him. Things are not always as they seem,” he repeated, confusing her, as he walked her to the door.

  Before she left, she reminded him, “As Priestess, what you renounced is mine for three nights. Dĩas will demand your power but I will not let him have it.” Plaintively she urged, “You have that time to rethink what you have done, to undo what you have done. If you wish to undo this then I will go to the Father of the Blood and beg him to protect you. I will sacrifice whatever I must for you--”

  "Why would I undo this thing that I have done? Why should you sacrifice anything for me?" He smiled. “You gave me the idea, sweet sister. It was the best advice you ever gave me and there is no turning back now.” He teased her by causing her to remember the last time she had seen him. She nearly fell over with guilt. “Be safe. Live free as the Goddess meant us to.” He gently escorted her out of the room and started to shut the door.

  “Staphãyn, wait, rethink this. As I said before, you can go to Daŕēus. Join with him to make things right,” Samanthŕa begged.

  “You still don’t understand, do you? What do you think he will do with my half-breed children?"

  "What?" He threw her off balance. "What do you mean?"

  "Don’t you think he is just as obsessed with pure bloods as everyone else? Ask him what they did to half breeds in the ancient world,” he told her coldly.

  “So this was because of the children? You said he could be trusted.”

  Staphãyn shook his head. “The children are only part of it. I can speak no more and you have to respect that. You must open your eyes now, Silly Vii, and turn away from me. I am dead to you.” He shut the door, having no more heart to look at her.

  Samanthŕa stood there frozen, broken. Finally, she worked up the strength and the courage to leave. Her tears left a trailing path behind her.

 

  ~Chapter 11~

  Walk with me . . .

  ***

  Walk with me.

  See what I see.

  Is this dream?

  Is this reality?

  We have eternity to discover these things,

  If you . . . would only walk with me.

  ***

  The day lacked the comfort of sleep. Night came but brought no peace. Samanthŕa’s heart withered. Her thoughts tormented her. She tried to contact Dĩas concerning Staphãyn but he simply ignored her. He gave her only one message in her mind concerning him. A message that burned worse than the poison she drank.

  “He is dead to us.”

  The words nearly crushed her. The herbs made her deathly sick while she worked charm after charm trying to dull their effects. Nothing worked. Her illness refused to diminish. She never felt more alone. She thought to cling to her sisters, but they were floating on clouds. They were swooning over the Brothers too much to notice her agony. They never even mentioned Staphãyn. Samanthŕa didn’t know if it was because they were unaware or possibly because they didn’t care. She didn’t know how anyone ought to react to someone renouncing the blood. Amongst her people, few crimes were worse. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not even herself. The herbs numbed her gifts so everything she focused on was unclear.

  Why did she take the herbs and crucify herself? The reason, other than the curse, was simple—Daŕēus. His very being made her more determined to do so. She feared looking at him one minute and then having her beast claim him in the next. Once the Awakening peaked, there would be no stopping her true nature. With the way his blood called it to the surface, Awakener or not, it could cause her to ravish him. After that, a whole other slew of problems would emerge. She didn’t need more problems at this point. She did not wish to set herself free from one cage only to find herself imprisoned in another. Maybe she started to believe in her own lies. Maybe it was about pride now, or maybe she was too weak and ruined to think straight. Maybe she was thinking too much.

  She almost rethought her plan to go to his Realm. What did she even care for? Again, she went in circles, scolding herself, and then tempted to give in to her emotions.

  Adding to her worries, whether she refused to or not, her sisters were going to Daŕēus’ Realm. When she told them of his offer, they had already known. Their minds were made up, with or without her. Dezarãe’s words were blunt, even though they contained as much love as possible.

  She said, “The Brothers, Samanthŕa, are our Awakeners. We are not like you. We have no fear of it.”

  It was more of a reminder than a declaration. Samanthŕa could only shake her head as they followed her to the stables. She moved slow, hiding her discomfort from them. Chymeŕah was gone, still searching for Staphãyn. She’d made a promise to Samanthŕa that she would find him and keep him safe. Then she would probably slap the warrior out of his skull for doing something so stupid, but for reasons she cared not to discuss, she owed him this for what happened to Staphãyn's true mother long ago. That made sense to Samanthŕa since Chymeŕah had taken Staphãyn under her wing because of the fact that he suffered a loss that never should have been a part of his future.

  Samanthŕa out of fear never told her mother that she had found Staphãyn. She struggled with that, praying she made the right decision. Still, if Chymeŕah knew then others might find out and right now, she truly feared the aftermath that would come from it.

  As far as their trip to Daŕēus’ realm, there was no better time to attempt it. Dĩas and the Elders were preoccupied doin
g Goddess knows what. There was little chance that they would be caught now, at least on the way there.

  During the ride through the snowy mountains inside the Realm of Wintŕa, which refused to yield to spring, Samanthŕa tried to tell her sisters that maybe they were not meeting their Awakeners. Maybe their blood had the power to confuse them, just as Daŕēus’s had the power to confuse her. She even argued that her dreams of him were not a Vii’s normal visions. She was a tool and he’d used her to invoke his freedom.

  They would not listen.

  Instead, Sameŕald whipped her horse around to boldly argue with Samanthŕa. “You’re right, but only concerning yourself."

  "What are you saying Sameŕald?" Samanthŕa was caught off guard by her sister's sudden hostility. Never before has she acted in such a way towards her.

  "I am saying what you so plainly know. Daŕēus is not your Awakener, Samanthŕa, and it makes perfect sense that he used you to free him. There is nothing cruel about it, so stop trying to make us mistrust him."

  "Speak your thoughts then."

  "You are a direct descendant of Dĩas, and being that you’re High Priestess, well of course you would have the power to undo what Dĩas did. And I thank you for freeing Daŕēus and the Brothers, I really do; however, your fate is not the same as ours. What we feel towards the Brothers is the bond of a Vii and her Awakener. It has nothing to do with confusion or tricks, and quite frankly I am becoming a little ill tempered at you for trying to argue about what we can surely feel for ourselves.”

  “You should let these feelings go,” Samaŕah urged from her snowy white steed. “And instead focus on who your Awakener truly is. You will know peace finally if you do.”

  Samanthŕa was stunned. She couldn’t find words. She was too weak and too tired. She was still heartbroken, and this only made it worse.

  “I am not even sure why you feel you must come with us.” Morrgãyne shook her head and looked at Sameŕald with pity in her eyes. She adjusted the same white, furry cloak that she and the others wore. “We should tell her who her Awakener truly is, so she can get on with whatever it is she does.” She laughed. It didn’t seem like her to laugh like that.

  "Why I must come?" Samanthŕa was confused. Did they not know Daŕēus had invited her? Did they not know she had reason to be here? Did they not know anything aside from their frills and thrills of romance and fantasy? "What I do? My Awakener?” Samanthŕa raised a brow.

  “Dǒntáe, Samanthŕa.” Dezarãe giggled. “See how blind you are? And yet you wish to sit there and give us advice on something you have chosen to avoid!” She looked at her other sisters.

  “It is not Dǒntáe,” Morrgãyne argued. “It is Staphãyn. Why else would the two of them be as close as they are?”

  “What?” Samanthŕa’s horse came to a stop.

  "Oh Morrgãyne," Dezarãe rolled her eyes. "It is clearly Dǒntáe. He can barely control the beast within when Samanthŕa is near. He placed his life before hers when we were attacked by the Nosophoros. He even challenged the Father of the Blood. It is clearly Dǒntáe."

  "You are wrong." Morrgãyne grinned and shook her finger. "Staphãyn and Samanthŕa have always been thick as thieves. If he would simply sober up, you would see his lust as strongly as you think you see Dǒntáe's."

  "Are you both mad?" Samanthŕa's horse bucked a little. Was this a bad dream?

  “Oh leave her be. I wish to see Mãiŕyk.” Jezaŕah exclaimed. “Time will tell who is right concerning Samanthŕa and her destined warrior. Now be silent so we may find the Brothers' Realm.”

  They all turned and started back up the trail. Samanthŕa was speechless. They weren’t making any sense to her. She tried every point she could think of as they rode to the Great Falls. Like a loyal and concerned sister, she followed them, even though it was clear that they thought she had no business here. Despite her worries for Staphãyn or Daŕēus, she could not let them go alone. To her, they were her responsibility; after all, she’d triggered the signs of their Awakening, hadn’t she?

  Still the nonsense they spoke of concerning Dǒntáe and Staphãyn puzzled her. Why were they speaking in such tongues? Why were they carrying on as if all in TEŔAH was right and merry?

  She rode behind them in turmoil. She envied them their freedom, their ability to give in to their desires and dreams. They could go to those who called to them from their dreams, to Awaken even if it was not by the hands of their proper Awakeners.

  She had chosen that time to remind them of the harm that could come to them if the Brothers were not their destined Awakeners. Still, they refused to listen. In fact, they spent most of the time ignoring her. She started to wonder if she was a ghost, if they could see or hear her at all, so she stopped talking. She was still floored by the mention of Dǒntáe and Staphãyn, even though it made her want to laugh in some twisted sort of madness. Why in the world would they think that? It astounded her-- or did it?

  The forest was thick with snow and silence. It reminded her of her soul, which was broken, and her hunger, which drove her mad inside, her emptiness, and her weakness from the herbs. It was as if she were going through the motions of a lifeless zombie. Sadness was the only emotion, though her heart continued to beat. Nothing but emptiness vibrated from her aura. It shook her even more that her sisters did not even sense it. Usually they could sense Samanthŕa’s moods a mile away, yet they rode ahead of her unaware. They seemed to form their own circle. Samanthŕa was not a part of it.

  The forest behind the Great Falls opened out just below the mountains which gave birth to Daŕēus’ realm. His castle seemed to reflect winter like the mountainous realm of Wintŕa. It was dark and comfortably rustic. It was hard to tell which was mountain and which was castle. Lucēan was the one who greeted them from the four story tall-carved doors. He wasn’t even wearing a cloak to protect him from the cold. She and her sisters had claimed powers and still struggled with the temperatures underneath their heavy garments, but he stood there on his stirrups wearing nothing more than dull leather pants, boots, and a thin shirt. Sameŕald seemed to breathe for the very first time when she saw him. When snow began to fall, Samanthŕa doubted she even noticed. All she could see was him . . . .

  Once inside the blackened halls, the sisters disappeared. Samanthŕa thought, how lovely. The point of them coming here with me was to make sure Daŕēus didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve. How would they know it if he did, if something happened, when they are running amuck like mindless wenches swallowed up by their foolish lust? She was growing bitter now but knew it must be because of the herbs-- or maybe it was everything leading up to this point.

  She sat alone in a room that appeared to be for greeting guests. Fur and fabric of dark masculine colors stretched across couches and chairs. A fire burned in a huge fireplace, big enough to hold an entire tree, while tapestries were hung to hold back the frostiness of the mountains outside.

  Samanthŕa, not sure what she should be doing, looked at one of the tapestries. A woman with dark hair faced a man with similar features. Their hands barely touched; only the flats of their palms extended towards each other. His light was dark but hers was a mixture of colors. Representing the lights, she thought, where a crimson luminosity was depicted coming from its friction.

  A dragon held the two of them, or seemed to, wrapping its tail around their bodies while it's upper body and wings stretched above. The faces of many animal spirits were beneath them. Each animal had a surname of a family and an ancient glyph embroidered on it. Samanthŕa approached, taking a closer look. Her eyes grew wide with astonishment.

  She heard voices outside in the hall approaching the doorway and she turned to look. Nearly a dozen figures hidden by cloaks paid her no mind as they left. Daŕēus then appeared in the doorway. His presence caused her cheeks to flush. That energy which he always brought with him made her feel slightly drugged again, like some sort of elixir for the nerves. It was comforting until the potion rose up and bit her. The same sickness and dizzines
s engulfed her. She forced it back down with one hard swallow.

  He smiled brightly but she gave him no chance to greet her. She drew his attention to the tapestry. “I gather these are our bloodlines,” she said. “Yet I do not see the Mãrquisŕa name. I see Morãe, not Mãrquisŕa.” She then remembered the night before when she was introduced to the Brothers. Maŕēus Morãe, her mind repeated. She hadn’t realized that the Mãrquisŕa name was not spoken.

  “That’s because the Mãrquisŕa is not one of ours. It should be Morãe.” He went to pour her some brandy, as any decent host would do.

  “I do not understand,” she said wondering how he could break this news to her so calmly. “If they are not part of our-”

  “You, my Priestess, have discovered just one of many things I have asked myself since I returned.” He laughed as he handed her the brandy. He sat down facing the tapestry. He kicked his legs up on a nearby table and made himself comfortable. “Maybe we should ask Dĩas. I wonder what he has to say about that.”

  Nothing pleased her more than to know that the Mãrquisŕa were not of their bloodline, especially since Monéaklá was one. Still, how was such a thing possible? Where were the Morães then?

  He read her thoughts. She wasn’t trying to hide them. “The Morães, or those who are left, believe themselves to be Mãrquisŕa. Seems someone removed their memories as well as their identities. There seems to be a lot of that going on.” He raised a brow, sipping his brandy. “For their safety however and until we discover more about this, I would ask that you keep this between us.”

  “Well, aren’t you going to do something about it?” To her own ears she sounded a bit gruff. How could he just sit there?