The Broken Destiny
Page 1
The Broken
Destiny
Book One of The Broken Series
by
Carlyle Labuschagne
Strategic Book Publishing and Rights Co.
Copyright © 2012
All rights reserved–Carlyle Labuschagne
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the permission, in writing, of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Strategic Book Publishing and Rights Co.
12620 FM 1960, Suite A4-507
Houston TX 77065
www.sbpra.com
ISBN: 978-1-62212-869-3
Interior page design by: Linda W. Rigsbee
I Acknowledge and Dedicate
I have put the acknowledgements and dedications in one, because I can, and because this is to all of you.
All the Glory to God
This book goes out to the most supportive parents in the world. They have given their lives for their children, and gave me any and every opportunity my heart desired. This book also goes out to my husband who immediately saw the satisfaction writing brought me. For his patience while I obsess over every detail this author world brings me, I will always be grateful, for he has always believed in me and pushed me to go, when I wanted to give up. I have received nothing but love from everyone, so I further dedicate this book to the powerful force that is love, and to God, who has shown me the way and kept me sane during my internal battles. This book is dedicated to everyone who has enriched my life or who has done me wrong, because without you, none of this would be possible. My book especially goes out to my kids and all children around the world. You are strong and beautiful. Don’t ever let the world take that away from you. Believe in yourself and know that your differences make you who you are; we all deserve love. I dedicate this book to the memory of my nanny who plays a very important part in how these tales came about. My nanny, Sarah, was my caregiver. She sheltered me from the Apartheid era in South Africa. One thing I never saw was color and prejudice. South Africa is a beautiful, talented country with rich cultures and diverse beliefs. The scars of our past make us stronger.
Thank you to my friends and family for being excited with me, and to my first fan – my sister – I love you with all I have. Thank you to my cousin Nadia, who read a very broken first draft of chapter one and loved it, not forgetting Carmen, who sent me on this journey. Thank you to the social media networks for assisting in spreading the word and providing encouragement, and to organizations such as Good-reads that present a platform for many authors. Thank you to the publishing company and their great team, who believed in me. Thank you to my editor, Vicky Rae Ellmore, for being patient with my many changes, for being enthusiastic about the project from the very beginning and for letting me bounce ideas back and forth. She was the first person to read my work in its incomplete and messy state, and someone I have learned from. A huge thank you and dedication to Sandra Valente, my proofreader, editor and my angel, who was there at the right time when I needed to pull back on the release for some much needed finishing touches. Sandra, you have changed my life, I will never forget what you did for me; my friend, my mentor and savior. I love you always. I cannot express in words how much of a great support you have been to me and this project. You have helped transform my manuscript into exactly what I envisioned. Thank you to all the authors I have ever read and learned from, and to everyone who participated in the blog tour and my interviews. Thank you for the amazing support you have all shown me. Thank you authors; Rae Hachton, DH Nevins, Blaire Kensley, Raine Thomas, Tyffani Clark, Daniele Lanzarotta, Christine Nolfi, Patti Roberts, Mireille Chester, Chelsea Fine, Natasha Slight, Eri Nelson, Mande Matthews – their talent is something to aspire toward. There are truly so many to thank, you have all been beyond gracious and kind in inviting me to your world, eager to help any way you can. Massive praise to the talented book bloggers involved in the blog tour who expected nothing in return, and are led by their passion for books and good stories – they welcomed me with such compassion and enthusiasm. Monique Diplock, Nerissa Luna, Debbie Wentlein, Chrizette Bayman, Shelagh Parry, Ishita Singh, Aeicha Matteson, Tamara Basic, Susan Mann, Chia Yet Peng, Von Peralta, Ivy Leung, Michelle @BookBriefs, Jenna Matalam, Lady Krishna Asi, Jessica Wentz, Cathee Hales, Hilda Kemala, author and blogger – Ashley Barron, author and blogger – Fay Fabbro, the lovely Siobhan Gouws, the gracious author – Katheryn Lane. You will always have my eternal thanks, blessings and support, should any of you need it. Thank you to the wonderful bloggers who invited me to feature on their blogs: We Fancy Books, Ashley at Basically Books, Clare Stubs and Debra Brown. Thank you to my author friends who believed in me during the months of build-up, for sharing and celebrating with me every step of the way, and for assisting me in gaining exposure. Thank you to DH Nevins, Eri Nelson, Raine Thomas, Sharon Williams, Christine Nolfi, Tiffany King, Mireile Chester, Angeline Kace, Maggie Tideswell, Blaire Kensley, Chelsea Fine, and Katie Night, who introduced me to the world that is my website – your kindness will always be with me. To the beautiful Rae Hachton, for the book trailer, character trailer, and all the early morning chats; thank you for taking me into your heart and believing in me. Thank you to Chicki Brown, Lisa Vaughn, Erin Kern and Martin King. The list is endless really. You are all so talented – I cannot express how truly honored I am to be considered by you. Thank you to Simone van Galen for the ‘Broken’ Facebook banners, you did a great job, Mande Matthews for my author branding. To all who have joined in on the blog tour after the final edits, I have your back always.
Most importantly, thank you to the musical artists and bands. Your music has bridged the gap between my mind and my heart. Your music transported my soul onto paper and brought my visions to life. Thank you to the great South African Band Prime Circle who has honored me by granting me permission to use their lyrics in this book. To the creative talents, Paramore, Civil Twilight, Linkin Park, 30 Seconds to Mars, Metric, Sia, Muse, Brandon Flowers, The Bravery, Meese and Adele, to mention a few.
Thank you to my readers, I appreciate your interest and support. This means the world to me. I hope I do not disappoint you, and I hope your dreams come true, as you have made mine become a reality. Happy reading.
All the glory to God.
Don’t be crippled by fear, let love give you wings
– Carlyle Labuschagne
Table of Contents
Part One:
Trace
Prologue
Chapter One
Oh, Star
Chapter Two
First Attack
Chapter Three
Pieces of a Falling Star
Chapter Four
Never-ending Cry
Chapter Five
The Traveler
Chapter Six
Breaking Out
Chapter Seven
Wanting
Part Two:
Closer to the Edge
Chapter Eight
Blindness
Chapter Nine
The Fall
Chapter Ten
Perfect Lies and Beautiful Denials
Part Three:
Unfold
Chapter Eleven
Supernova
Chapter Twelve
Revelations
Chapter Thirteen
Uprising
Chapter Fourteen
Evolve<
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Chapter Fifteen
Motionless
Epilogue
“All I thought I’d be
All I thought I’d find
Staring back at me
And I‘m blind
It’s like it isn’t there
It’s like it never was
I‘m right in the middle between
What I thought was real
Stand back, take a look at myself
To reveal
It’s just what I’ve become
Can’t believe that it’s come to this
A shame, it’s a damn shame
Insides looking out
Outsides calling in
Struggling to see
When you don’t know where you’ve been
Wish I could have seen it
Seen it all before
I’m in the middle between
What I thought was real
Step back, take a look at myself
To reveal
Which is what I’ve become
Can’t believe it has come to this
Try to see a different side of me
Try to redefine it all.
Try see what I must do
To break my fall.
Which is what I have become
Can’t believe that it’s come to this
My worst enemy is me!”
~ Prime Circle lyrics ~
What I’ve become
Part One
Trace
I had been thinking of everything I used to want to be.
This was the story that was my life.
These were the lies that had created me
A trace of a life that had collapsed
Entombed within a destiny of the rise,
Above a very dangerous fall.
Prologue
All my life, I had searched for something, something I thought I ought to be. I felt like I was living someone else’s life, waiting for the awakening of my own. I felt like an empty shell burning for life. That was, until the day I lay dying in the prince’s chambers. I could no longer feel the pain from the tear in my gut. The only sensation left was a hollowed-out feeling that I had made a huge mistake in assuming that taking my own life, would have stopped the ancestors’ spirit from raging out. I had given up. I didn’t want to see myself killing the ones I loved. I was the Chosen one, but I threw it all away for what I thought would save a life. Could you end a life to save a life? I did, and I have regretted it ever since. I realized then that things like me are not meant to exist. What had been missing my whole life? It was I. To find myself, I had to lose myself in the worst possible way. The consequences of my actions became the legend of The Broken.
CHAPTER ONE
Oh, Star
I wasn’t sure why they called us The Broken, but what I did know for sure was that we were different from the other human inhabitants of the planet, not physically, but in spirit. We were the third generation with a huge (some would say a cursed) destiny. Poseidon is the planet on which we resided. It was set in a milky way much like our home planet – Earth. Global warming, war and evil undertakings were said to have contributed to Earth’s destruction. So it was said. Did I believe it? No. I believed that there was a lot more to the story behind our origins. I could feel it in the cold burn of my legs sometimes and I could see it on the faces of my peers as we walked down the hallways of our school. A haunting feeling stared back at me as I looked upon my reflection in the monitor every morning. The color of my irises had changed twice since I had hit puberty. Was that normal? No way. I often wondered why I was the only one who had experienced that strange side effect of puberty. But there was something else, something I kept secret from the Council – from Kim – that might have confirmed my suspicions.
Perched high upon a tower among the ancient ruins that overlooked the lake bordering the northern base of Mount Inja, I familiarized myself with the bright white glow over the surface of the navy lake as it reflected the moons’ ghostly beauty. A burst of wind suddenly made its way through the canyon and over the lake, curling up against the tower and playfully touching our faces. The smell of the cold stale air kept reminding me of the stagnant weather we had been experiencing on Poseidon. Below my dangling feet, small waves crashed against the white stone of the tower echoing through the canyon. Sam and I escaped to that isolated part of the island often and I doubted anyone else knew of its existence. The chilly breeze slicing through the late afternoon air licked at Sam’s ginger locks, fanning them over her gorgeous face as she lay spread out on the rooftop of the ruins. Her ivory skin, pale in contrast to her dark coat, looked strikingly beautiful against the bleak background of yet another late winter afternoon. Gray clouds rose above the canyon intensifying the purple sky that was quickly darkening into early evening. I smiled to myself – breaking rules was part who I had become; I would try anything just to feel alive, to feel free from a dying planet – a dying race. The water beneath me shimmered, while the mountain appeared pale green in the dim light. I imagined for a moment that I was stuck in a beautiful painting. Once more, I glanced at Sam. Her fiery locks still rested lightly across her face. With her eyes shut and her long, dark, thick lashes sweeping over the top of her rosy cheeks, she looked just like a doll. Her coat was tucked tightly into the nape of her neck to ward of the cold, and a faint smile started curling up at the edges of her mouth. Not a care in the world, I thought to myself as I looked thoughtfully at Sam snuggled in silent reverie. As I turned my gaze back to the distant horizon where nightfall was quickly creeping toward us from over Mount Inja, a shimmer of an early star set against the amethyst sky caught my eye – so silver, so sparkling, so high and so serene that I could only dream of ever reaching it. I closed my eyes tight, fighting the pang in my chest, and I wished for that star to fall down on me, to grant me my wish of changing my life forever. I wished it would close the emptiness within my chest and fill it with the kind of peace that would make me the person I was meant to be, not the girl I was. The girl who was constantly poked fun at, never once left alone to just be herself; the girl who envied everyone else, and the girl with the huge inheritance which meant nothing to her. I felt belittled every day because of it. I looked harder into the glimmer of the star and wished to be envied, just once.
“Fall down on me,” I whispered to the star.
“Hmm?” Sam murmured.
“Oh, just thinking out loud again,” I replied.
My legs dangled over the edge of the roof, my petite white feet contrasting with the dark, vast body of water below. I could hardly feel my toes anymore. Sam suddenly sat up and yawned loudly, stretching her long arms over her head. Her eyes flung open and she yelled. “Oh, crap!”
Her raspy voice boomed throughout the valley, scaring the birds who flew away with a flutter of wings to their cozy nests between the bleak branches, squawking toward the sky. Hurriedly, she reached for her shoes, stumbling slightly forward when she jumped up to extend an arm toward me. “Come on! We’re late!” she exclaimed, suddenly out of breath as if she had just swum a few laps in the cold lake.
I grinned at her, grabbed my shoes from beside me, stuffed them into the deep pockets of my coat and rose with a hard tug from Sam. I glanced over the scenery one last time while Sam carefully made her way down the tower, allowing her feet to rest on the jagged edges of the broken stone statues that hung on the cornices of what used to be an arched window. Dropping down the side of the tower, my hands grabbing the ledge and carefully swinging them into the opening, I landed gracefully inside the shadows of the tower in a low crouch. I heaved a deep breath of relief. It was much warmer inside and away from the nasty breeze. I stood proud after my almost perfect dismount – I was a gymnast every chance I got. Sam cleared her throat, and from her rigid outline, I could tell she was annoyed. Her hands resting on her hips, she slowly tapped one foot against the hard stone floor, the tapping echoing loudly through the emptiness. Staring down at the floor, I could hardly
make out the patterns of the ancient symbols etched into the white stone.
“You’re going to see your ass one day, and then I’m going to have to tell you, I told you so,” she said bluntly.
I smiled at her, pulled my shoes on and started for the narrow stairs that spiraled down into the tunnel below.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Sam’s voice boomed from behind me as she pushed me aside playfully while she made her way past. She had longer legs and strides than I had, and ran with a kind of grace that made running look incredibly natural. I, on the other hand, was a much better swimmer. I realized that it must have been later than we had originally thought as the tunnel seemed darker than on any of the other afternoons on which we had fled to that place. The faint light toward the entrance of the tunnel was barely visible as we crawled through. Sam giggled nervously as we hurried down the narrow passage on all fours. The cold floor was hard and hurt my bony knees.
“What’s so damn funny?” I asked her, almost panicking that someone would notice we had disregarded our curfew yet again.