She sighed. If only Dĩas was sincere. She hoped that he was. With losing Staphãyn, would it be naive of her to want to save her father? “Do you believe him?” She prayed he would say yes.
“I believe I must hear them out. Dĩas is of my own blood. I would like nothing else but to save him from his own destruction. Regardless, as I said, by the old laws, I must hear them out. We all must hear them out. How am I to preserve and resurrect the old ways if I start breaking the laws myself? As High Priestess, you must do the same.” He made a sour face concerning her gowns. “None of these will do, as I feel they are beneath you. I will have something made and sent up to you later. For now I want you to rest.”
“I do not want to go,” she said bitterly.
“And why is that?” he asked.
She thought he was taking all this far too lightly. “Because if they are not sincere then I do not want to see my father destroyed.”
“Samanthŕa, I will not destroy your father this night. What do you take me for? A monster who thrashes about, killing without thought or remorse?”
She thought of the Tavern, letting down her guard so he could see her thoughts.
He grinned devilishly. “Surely you will not hold that against me?”
She didn’t say a word.
“Alright then, you do not have to go, but you will be missing out. One of the things your father will be announcing is the name and identity of your Awakener.” He tempted her.
“What? Never in a million years…” She raised herself from her bed.
“That’s right. The bloodlines of Evil will be revealing this curse.” He paused. “This has all been about a curse hasn’t it?” Before she could respond he continued, “They will be revealing how you can be released from it. And your father will finally be doing what he should have done all along…standing by your side while what is natural comes naturally.” He started to walk towards the door when she jumped off of the bed and ran towards him. She grabbed his arm. She was trembling. Why was she trembling?
“What…what if I don’t want my Awakening? What if I am happy how I am? Can’t you keep your claim over me and we leave it at that? Believe me when I say I am quite satisfied with being High priestess and focusing only on that.”
He took her hand. His eyes reflected sympathy and concern. “What has you so worried? You should be overjoyed that all this will soon be over.”
“Just let me be as I am. You’re the Father of the Blood. You have that power, don’t you? What’s the worst that can happen? I will pester you or get in your way? Just let things stay as they are, please.” Her voice was shaking. So was her body.
He led her to the bed with ease. He helped her lie down. “Sleep and regain strength. You must be at my side this night.” He spoke inside her mind: “I will not hand my claim over until you ask it of me, I swear it. Rest and fear not the unknown.”
They were the same words he had said to her in her dreams. Without hesitation, her mind and body did what he commanded of them. She fell into a deep, restful sleep of solace, having argued and begged him for no more.
Goddess, thank you, was her last clear thought. Thank you.
~Chapter 15~
The Truce
***
Take thy quill and tip it with blood.
Accept thy fate or live with none.
Reap thy dreams in a garden of soot.
Sign your misery on the scrolls of truce.
***
It was hard for Daŕēus to leave Samanthŕa, knowing her hungry eyes beckoned him to ease her. It was hard for him to tear his wrist away when a thirst could easily trigger madness. His blood was potent but he didn’t want her doing anything she would later regret. He didn’t want her to hate him or blame him for being true to her nature. He left her for a few hours so she could regain more of her strength . . . the only thing he could do that wouldn't end in her anger and his regret.
Once he left however, he found himself face to face with Dezarãe, who explained she'd felt slightly guilty about the way she spoke to Samanthŕa earlier; her thoughts were loud enough for anyone to read. The chamber door clicked shut and the two stood uncomfortably within the twilight of the hallway. Daŕēus stopped her from going inside even though she tried quite a bit. Samanthŕa would be volatile now since he refused his wrist to her and he wanted her to stay in the spell of sleep he placed her under. He needed her to remain undisturbed. Whether Dezarãe realized it or not, he was doing her a favor.
Besides, his Priestess was so panicked concerning her Awakening anyway, and that in itself put her in an unpredictable mood, which unnerved him since she refused him her mind. How she had learned that trick so quickly was beyond him but he planned on seeing his way through it, undoing it as only he could.
"I just need to speak to her." Dezarãe twisted the edges of her skirts until the wrinkle was permanently embedded there.
Daŕēus held firm. Samanthŕa didn’t need anything more upsetting her. She'd seen to that herself with all the self-made inner battles which guiltlessly waging war against her own mind.
"Please," Dezarãe pouted.
“Leave her to rest." It was time to be blunt. "Your words took their toll on her. Enough has been said, too much in fact.” He did not yell or even growl. His energy, however, encouraged her to feel worse than she already did and he did so intentionally. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for tonight’s ball?” He nearly bit his tongue in half speaking the words
"I started to," Dezarãe twisted her skirts again and bit her lip.
"Well perhaps you should go finish and keep your mind occupied." The ball was a joke and the very idea of it temped his temper to break their chains. The stance he took on for Samanthŕa was simply a farce. It was true he had to abide by the old ways and their laws, but he didn’t trust Dĩas or the bloodlines that renounced Evil. He had his guard up concerning all of that but there was no need for the Priestess to know. It was his burden and to be honest, he hoped that Dĩas would keep to his promise and end this madness concerning her Awakening since Daŕēus was bound by powers and could not. It seemed Samanthŕa had curses she needed to break herself but they weren’t what she thought they were, and they involved more than just her sisters.
“Do you think Dǒntáe will be well enough to go tonight?” Dezarãe asked, meekly. “We weren’t exactly sure what was going on with the Theŕéans since no one is confirming anything.”
Daŕēus shook his head. “I am not sure. Maybe Kaléé is the one you should see concerning that. I have been preoccupied since they returned the warriors to the hospice she and your mother set up for them.” The last he’d heard, nothing but gibberish came from the survivors who fled the realms once the mysterious black mist attacked it. The warriors had already been drawn out to battle and fight with black nameless shadows deep in the jungles. They called for help but whatever power wielded it blocked their attempts, the same way it blocked Samanthŕa’s and the others on the night of Beal-Tene.
Dezarãe’s expression crumbled. Daŕēus was a bit confused. Why the sudden concern for one Theŕéan? The Vii's thoughts became a tornado of confusion. He couldn't even read them without feeling muddled himself. “I am sorry, Dezarãe. Were you close to him?”
“Yes, well, that’s not why I am asking.” She struggled for words. "I . . . well . . . I--"
“Why are you asking?” Daŕēus’ head tilted. He studied her.
Dezarãe took a deep breath, many in fact. “I cannot keep it to myself any longer and you may be the only one who can help."
"What is it?" Now he was worried.
"My sister is going to kill herself in order to avoid her Awakening. If you think she will stop the herbs and rituals after last night’s scare then you are wrong. I know her. And I don’t care if the name of her Awakener is announced this night, she will still be stubborn, and refuse him. Again, I know her. If we had Dǒntáe there, then maybe he could do something about it. Trigger something inside her that she will be unable to fight. Maybe
you could catch her in a brief moment when her battle stance is not so strong. Maybe--”
“I'm sorry, but what would Dǒntáe be able to do about it? What exactly would he trigger?”
“Her Awakening,” Dezarãe whispered.
Daŕēus nearly felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. How easily they were back to that again.
“Isn’t there something you can do? You are the Father of the Blood. You have claim over her. Doesn’t that mean you have power as well? Can’t you stop her from acting so foolish? She has this pride, you see and well, it will be her end. Or maybe it will be enough to just have Dǒntáe there.” Her eyes squinted for she was thinking so hard.
“And how would he do that?” Daŕēus raised a villainous brow. The conversation was making him irritable. His patience was wearing thin. He knew the sisters thought that Dǒntáe was Samanthŕa’s Awakener, as he’d overheard their conversation before. His Brothers had also confided in him concerning things the sisters confessed while entwined in the folds of their passion for them. But was it Daŕēus's place to correct them? No for they had confessed or spoken nothing to him. Not until they said it to him, not until they spoke the words to his face would it be his business, he thought. After all, with everything else going on, how did their assumptions and silly wonderings affect him? More important things to worry about, like getting his Priestess on track and destroying their enemies. So now, in his own way, he was setting up his own trap. After all, now Dezarãe was giving him no choice but to confront this head on.
Dezarãe rolled her eyes. “I would think the Father of the Blood would know these things."
"These things?"
"Dǒntáe is Samanthŕa’s Awakener. We have known it for a long time now. I admit that her dreams threw me off. The color of the eyes, that was like your eyes, when Dǒntáe has golden eyes.” She was rambling, spewing forth her tornado thoughts. “But when Samanthŕa told us she was simply a tool you were reaching out to, to free yourself and the Brothers, well that explained everything. Everything concerning my sister has always been different.” She laughed. “While we are dreaming of our Awakeners, she is dreaming of secrets and mischief. I mean it’s obvious that my other sisters are wrong and it’s not Staphãyn, at least I hope not.”
Daŕēus was near explosion now. His anger, which he’d held in before, hearing them cackle over Samanthŕa and her condition, could no longer be restrained. Dezarãe just kindly opened the door to let it free. “Do you even know why she is trying to prevent her Awakening? Have you even given it serious thought?”
“Pride, of course. Samanthŕa has always been so headstrong and prideful. That’s why she cannot see Dǒntáe and the way he acts around her."
Daŕēus remembered Dǒntáe as the fool who attempted to put a sword to his neck. He knew his thoughts then and was no more pleased than he was with Dezarãe’s blindness now. “You think your sister would almost kill herself over pride? Are you--” He almost accused her of being insane when Chymeŕah appeared in the hall.
Her face revealed that she wasn’t pleased with Dezarãe, nor with what the servants said had happened earlier in Samanthŕa’s room, due to her sisters. Her thoughts were not blocked allowing Daŕēus to read them completely.
"Mother--"
“Dezarãe, go have a vision or something,” she said coldly; Dezarãe pouted and then slowly walked away.
Chymeŕah then looked at Darius. “You have to overlook them."
"They are making it difficult."
"I feel Dĩas’ magic over them is strong-- which is why they have these ridiculous ideas. He put them there, you see. Why did you bait her on like that? You know their silly thoughts. You know they are all under an illusion. It is unlike you, Daŕēus, to be bothered by such nonsense.”
Daŕēus simply growled and left. It was best if he stayed to himself for a while. His only thoughts were voiced in his groans.
No wonder she is cursed and in the state that she is in, with all these half witted twits influencing her.
His judgments were cruel, which wasn’t his customary disposition. Chymeŕah was right. He was usually more understanding. But in this new era, he was discovering that every time he took a breath someone was uttering words of nonsense. The bloodlines now were nothing compared to what they once were. He was near detonation. He needed solitude before he placed them all in stases himself. He needed to feed.
***
She admitted to herself that she was nervous. She didn’t even know how she managed to dress even though the gown Daŕēus sent her was beyond anything her imagination could have fashioned on its own. It was a deep crimson, a color he seemed to favor, and maybe possibly, she thought, was because of the bloodlines and its importance to him. The upper bodice was tight fitting and stiff like a girdle, laced up the back with black ribbons, with an open neckline revealing just enough cleavage as it left her shoulders and upper region bare. It ended just a few inches below her breasts. Her biceps were adorned with thin golden charmed snake bands. Her stomach lay naked while the many long transparent layers of skirt gathered just a few inches underneath her belly line. Up the sides were slits, revealing her long gracious legs when she walked and then the foot jewelry formed elegant slippers, matching the color of the gown.
Her hair was piled high, falling in long locks down her exposed back. Golden jewels were woven into her black tresses, flattered by the glittery dust powered over her face and body. Her earrings were long and dainty, sparkling with small-encrusted diamonds, just like the small ring that dangled from her belly button.
She was fashionably late, but she couldn’t help it at all. Daŕēus’s spell made her sleep longer than expected, not that she was complaining. She would have come with him, or even with her mother, but her nerves were much too frazzled for that. She had fear inside her, not knowing what to expect, and surprise because she wasn’t curious for once in her life, just numb.
And to be absolutely honest, a ball, now with so much chaos going on, was the wildest most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard of. And she was shocked that Dĩas would allow Evil--even if they renounced their own--to do such a thing. But she knew the ones who were making their announcements tonight, spilling secrets they otherwise guarded, and they were known to be a bit over the top and choking on their dramatics.
Still, out of duty she came because he asked it of her, otherwise she would have told Dĩas and the entire lot of them to stick the entire thing up their---
Breathe. She shook her nerves and aggravation away or at least she tried.
The Priestess took a final deep calming breath once she reached the top of the stairs that led into Dĩas’s Ballroom.
Black, white, and red candles dressed the walls and ceilings, reflecting off of a shiny, seamless coal colored floor. Those of the bloodlines were dressed in styles almost as riveting as she was; they lined the inner and outer edges of the huge space. The dome ceiling opened up to the stars, a tranquil lavender sky and three offset moons. And in the distance played an orchestra of elemental bliss, which left one feeling haunted, and like being carried away.
If only she could be carried away…
“Samanthŕa, you’re absolutely enchanting!” she heard her mother say, as she rushed from the crowd to greet her. She was one to talk, Samanthŕa thought, feeling nothing in comparison to her. Her mother’s gown was thin and tapered to fit her body, black and alluringly sexy. She would have expected nothing else.
Smile my darkest darling. Remember all that we spoke o earlier. We are here appearing to play the game. We will find out what our enemies are truly up to. Chymeŕah whispered inside Samanthŕa's mind and kissed both her cheeks, “Watch your back for daggers, my dear.” She took her hand and led her through the crowd until Dĩas cut them off.
“Daughter.” He bowed, kissing her hand. He was dressed in royal blue silks. His long sleeved shirt was tailored closely to reveal his sturdy frame. His pants were slick material above shiny, polished boots. His eyes reflected sudden tears
but they vanished as quickly as they appeared. “I wish for your forgiveness. I may have been in error concerning my decisions but I hope only to make up for them tonight. Everything I did, I did for love of you.”
Samanthŕa simply nodded and hoped her suspicion wasn't bluntly slapped across her face. Deep down she wished he were serious or meant what he said, but she knew better than to completely hope.
“Come daughter, we are about to begin, but we were waiting for you.”
Good, she thought. The sooner it began, the sooner she could leave. While Dĩas escorted her, she searched the crowd for her sisters and she might have found them if it were not for Daŕēus entering from across the room from a side door.
He was more than familiar, her heart picked up its beat, and he may have been more than an anchor within this sea of disturbance for not one other here, except for her mother, made her feel as if they were in her corner.
Should she boldly tear from her father's hand and go to the Father of Blood? Should she risk pushing Dĩas's buttons even if she could simply play the Priestess card and claim greeting Daŕēus because of who he was, was nothing more than a duty and a must?
Being beside Daŕēus would certainly calm her just enough to stare down those she was about to face.
Ironically, though, Monéaklá was not far behind him overly dressed as usual, in poor taste, vainly done, folds and laces of pink darts.
Samanthŕa's thoughts to inquire, to reach out for Daŕēus was already set into motion despite the sight of Monéaklá's soiling it, but fate forced another choice, as Dǒntáe surfaced from behind. Samanthŕa caught his presence from the corner of her eye just before he touched her arm with but a finger. He looked refreshed, healed, though the confusion, and sorrow of the night before understandably still lingered in his gilded eyes.
"Dǒntáe," she said as Dĩas paused, speaking to whomever. "I didn't think you would be here. I--"
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