by Lyra Shanti
Promise of the Opal
Lyra Shanti
“Promise of the Opal”
Copyright © 2019 Lyra Shanti
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by T. Casey
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. The Lotus Temple
2. Flight
3. Sunrise
4. Dumplings
5. Healing
6. Goosebumps
7. The Blessing
8. The Dance
9. Breakfast
10. The Wall
11. Succumbing
12. Reunion
13. Morning After
14. Questions
15. The Pact
16. The Hunt
17. Naked
18. The Lama Temple
19. The Gift
20. Roses
21. Confession
22. The Fox
23. Confusions
24. The Spirit
25. The Promise
26. Yin and Yang
27. Normal
28. The Appointment
29. Catching the Wind
30. The Street
31. The Sorcerer
32. Ready or Not
33. The Opal
34. Acceptance
35. Set Them Free
~~
More Books by Lyra Shanti
About the Author
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Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Timothyne, my beloved soulmate. You are the yin to my yang, and without you, I wouldn’t have the awesome cover for this book. I probably wouldn’t even know how to wake each day. You are my forever.
Love and gratitude to my bestie-sis, Juniper, who always listens and has saved my life on many occasions. You’re the best, sis.
I would like to thank my beta readers and fellow authors, Jo Moon Willow Rose, Amy Leibowitz Mitchell, and Sadie Rose Bermingham. You all rock so hard. Thanks also to everyone in my Shanti Writing Tribe. You’re such a supportive, talented group.
And last but never least, I need to thank my Fabulous supportive team: Joanne Van Leerdam, J.B. Richards, Aliya DalRae, Renee Gauthier, and Eva Pasco. You’re all inspirations.
I dedicate this book to all the dragon spirits out there. You know who you are.
Chapter 1: The Lotus Temple
H is dark blue eyes shone in the moonlight. They were piercing, desperate, and heavy from war and death.
Ringing the bell of the white lotus temple with his right hand, Gan prayed to the pure dragon spirit to answer his prayer. The wound in his left shoulder stung and itched, but his thoughts did not stray; it was for his family and friends within the Li clan that he prayed. It was they who needed protection from their enemy, especially now that he was so badly injured
Exhausted, the battle-weary warrior leaned against the well of the holy temple. His thoughts raced. Will the bandits attack my village? I cannot stay here… I cannot rest. I must go.
“Who are you?” came a soft and gentle, yet masculine voice.
Gan looked up and saw the answer to his prayers: a young man with long, white hair and light green eyes. He was wearing a pale robe with a delicately designed, white and gold dragon sewn across. To Gan, the man looked pure, like the temple itself.
“Are you here to pray?” asked the white-haired man.
“Yes,” Gan murmured in between painful breaths. “I wish to pray for the protection of the white lotus dragon.”
The man raised his brow, then nodded. “Come with me.”
Gan slowly followed the mysterious man deeper into the temple. Up the stone stairs, they entered the archway to a large hall.
“Sit here,” the man ordered. He pointed to a wooden stool. Gan did as the man said, and sat down. “You're badly injured.”
Gan nodded and winced. “My shoulder… I didn't see the sword from behind.”
The man shook his head and sighed. “Take off your clothes, then bathe in the spring behind the temple. I will meet you there. You must be clean before asking the dragon for favors.”
Again, the warrior dutifully did as the man asked. Gan assumed the man was a priest of the temple, and a powerful one at that. There was an intense aura coming from his eyes. To Gan, the man seemed otherworldly, like a god from the heavens.
Taking off his black leather armor, Gan felt the bloodied flesh of his wound sticking to his undershirt. Despite the pain, he slowly removed his remaining clothes.
Walking toward the back of the temple, Gan saw a large bathing area surrounded by wood, stone, and trees. The spring felt warm as his naked body entered, and his aching wound immediately began to feel soothed.
A few minutes passed before the priest returned. His long, white hair was now pinned up in a tight bun as he approached holding a basket of healing supplies. Putting down the basket at the edge of the spring, he motioned for the warrior to join him.
Gan hesitated, for the water felt too good, but he didn't want to offend the hospitality of the priest. Standing up, Gan’s muscular and tall figure dripped with water and sweat. He then walked to the priest, awaiting his next order.
“How old is this wound?”
“About three days now,” Gan replied.
The priest shook his head, disapproving. “It needs to be properly cleaned and stitched, or it will become infected. It is a miracle it has not as of yet.” After disinfecting the wound, he reached for a fine-pointed needle. “Look up, and think of your warmest memory.”
Gan immediately thought of his mother. She had always been kind and gentle, and before she died at the hands of bandits, her smile was the warmest memory he could conjure.
The stitching hurt, but the recent loss of his mother and young wife hurt far worse.
“Now, tell me, my wounded friend,” said the priest, “why should the white dragon hear your prayer?”
Gan thought for a moment. “Because my village will die without his protection.”
The priest finished sewing the wound, then wrapped it tightly with a cloth-made bandage.
“You will need to rest… for at least a few days. In the meantime, I will ask the white dragon for protection on your behalf.”
Gan nodded. “Thank you, great priest of the lotus temple.”
“My name is Ling Sa, and you are most welcome.”
“I am Li Gan,” the wounded warrior muttered through his exhaustion.
Sa nodded. “Li Gan… follow me to one of my spare rooms, and sleep until you are healed.”
Upon reaching the room, Gan immediately collapsed onto the soft floor-bed. The room wasn't fancy, but it felt to him like heaven… as did the temple itself. Soon, Gan dreamt about dying in the bed peacefully before meeting his wife and mother on the other side. He was finally home… if only in dreams.
~~
Because of his unique, white hair and bright green eyes, Sa had been shunned by his own family. At the age of four, his own mother called him “demon,” and allowed their clan to drive him away.
Searching for food and shelter, Sa had cried and cried, finally praying for the gods to save him. His heart pounded as he received his first vision: the lotus temple. It was raining, but the sun suddenly pierced through the clouds, l
ighting the way to his sanctuary and new home.
It had been a good twenty years since he first found the temple, but Sa was now far from the scared boy who had been driven from his clan. Apprenticed under the great priest, Ling Mao, he'd learned to harness his visions, as well as his meditation and healing technique. Sa had become a confident priest, impressing all who encountered him. Even the ones who had once called him demon now believed him to be the personal messenger of the white dragon. Sa took the honor with pride.
He was used to a solitary life, and valued his time alone to recite his spiritual incantations. He was not used to visitors. From time to time, a stray worshipper would ask for advice or help, but they never stayed long.
This man, however… this wounded warrior… was different.
Sa watched Gan while he slept. The man fascinated him. The worldly pain in Gan's deep blue eyes was an intoxicant to Sa’s sheltered existence. It was intriguing, seductive… terrifying.
Sa worried his guest might open his newly stitched shoulder, so he watched… and prayed. Finally, Sa fell asleep sitting up on the chair.
Soon, morning came with the sun peeking through a blue-veiled window. Sa opened his eyes and stretched.
Tea, he thought. Tea must come first.
Chapter 2: Flight
T he long flight from Fort Lauderdale to Beijing left Sam tired, cranky, and confused, and the strange, recurring dream about the white-haired priest didn't help. She had first dreamt about him on the plane, and now, she was dreaming about him at the “White Lotus,” the bed and breakfast she had spontaneously reserved online the day before.
Exhausted, she sat up and looked at the digital clock on the night table next to her bed. 3:46 a.m.
“Great,” she moaned, flopping down on her back. Her mind was a wash of mixed emotions and hazy images. What was I dreaming? she pondered. It was that white-haired guy again… but this time, there was some kind of warrior. Geez… I watch way too much anime.
Groggily, Sam made her way to the bathroom. It was small, but clean. She'd arrived at the White Lotus only yesterday, but the minute she had landed in China, she felt like time stood still. There was something familiar, something… right.
Flushing the toilet, she laughed at her crazy brain. I still can't believe I did this. Who the hell quits their job and books a flight to China on a whim? I must be nuts!
With a yawn, she looked at herself in the mirror. She saw tired, green eyes staring back. Her light brown hair was tangled up in a loose ponytail, and her grilled cheese sandwich-themed pajamas bunched up at the sides of her hips. God, I look awful, she thought, rolling her eyes. Coffee… I so need coffee.
In the shower, Sam began to reminisce, calculating the reason she left her home in a panic. Her mind immediately turned to James… and how bad things turned out.
When they first met, James won her with his boyish good looks and silly pop culture references—stuff she thought only fellow geeks would know. She liked him, trusted him. As time went on, however, her trust broke to pieces when she found him with another woman. It wasn't just that, though. James had a temper. After the second time of his cheating, she confronted him, and he lashed out, hitting her across the face.
He'd apologized, but Sam knew better than to stay. She'd already survived an abusive, dead-beat father. She was absolutely not going to fall into that trap, so she packed her things and left James’ apartment before he could change her mind.
No way will I ever turn into my mother, she told herself, scrubbing her legs with a beige sponge.
The only bad part about leaving James was he was also her boss… and he had money. As the CEO of an established publishing company, he paid most of the bills. She had worked as his chief editor for a while, but on her own, Sam was just a freelance writer without a plan. She had savings, though, mostly from the inheritance her father left when he died suddenly after a stroke. Without thinking, Sam had taken a car to the airport.
Why China? she asked herself while drying off with a towel. Sighing, she thought, Why not?
She knew James would never find her. No one would. It was time for a complete life change, and she was ready… if she could just stay awake. Damn, she thought with a yawn, I really need that coffee.
Chapter 3. Sunrise
G an opened his weary eyes and saw unfamiliar surroundings. He hardly remembered what had happened the day before. He only knew he'd been struck down by an assassin from his enemy clan—the same clan that had hired bandits to raid his village, killing his mother, beloved wife. and unborn child.
Hatred immediately radiated throughout his chest and arms, which activated the pain of his wound. Looking down, he saw the stitching and wondered how it got there. Thinking hard, he received flashes to a bubbling spring and a graceful man with long, white hair.
No, that's not possible. Who in this world looks like him? I must have been dreaming.
“Are you feeling better?” came a soft voice from the entranceway. Sa held a silver tray of tea cups, rice porridge, and a plate of sliced peaches and apples. He gave a slight smile, then entered the room.
Gan nodded. “I feel better, thank you.”
Setting down the tray on the small table in the room, Sa held up a tea cup and said, ‘I am certain you need more rest, but I am glad you are on the mend. The dragon god must have heard your prayer.”
Gan smirked as he accepted the tea. “Thank you.” After a moment, he added, “Do you really believe in the white dragon?”
Sa raised his left brow and said, “You are the one who nearly died, asking for his protection. Do you not believe after all?”
“I want to believe,” said Gan, carefully sipping the piping hot tea.
“What stops you?”
Gan took a moment before answering. He felt the pain of his shoulder and grimaced.
“Does it hurt again?” Sa asked, almost as if he read Ga’s mind.
Nodding, Gan put down the tea. Reaching into a small linen bag around his waist, Sa pinched a small amount of herbs into Gan’s tea cup. He then mixed it with a wooden spoon. “Drink,” he ordered, handing the cup to Gan.
Slowly sipping the tea, Gan tasted the bitterness of the herbs. He wanted to spit it out, but something about the priest’s green-eyed gaze made him drink it down.
“I want to believe… but I have lost too much to believe in gods. If they exist, why don’t they stop the evils of the world?”
Sa nodded, then sat down at the table, gracefully folding his legs. Motioning for Gan to do the same, he sipped his own tea. Gan sat down across from the priest and reached for a slice of apple.
“The gods do not work for us, my friend. Despite what humans think, they are not our servants.”
“Then what are they?” asked Gan.
Sa grinned. He took a peach slice and said, “The gods are like the rivers, the mountains, the trees… They are our forebears… Our teachers. They are not our slaves to be told what evil they must slay. To demand their favor is foolish human pride. Instead, we should ask politely for their kindness, and perhaps, if they are willing, they will abide.”
Who is this man? Ga thought with a gulp of apple. He acts as if he is above mere mortals. He even looks and moves like a god, but… I cannot be sitting with an actual god. That’s not possible. It can’t be.
Sa smiled, again seeming to know Gan’s mind. “I am not a god, my friend. I am a simple man… though I try my best to listen, and learn, and pass on the knowledge I may attain.” Sa picked up the tea pot and offered to fill Gan's cup.
“No, thank you,” he whispered, still confused by the mysterious, almost divine, nature of his host. Every move Sa made intrigued Gan, even the way his fingers picked up the pot. There was a grace and beauty that couldn't be described with words, and it was beginning to excite his passion.
Feeling the sudden throb of his loins, Gan placed his hands over his lap and coughed nervously. This response had never happened before, not with a man.
Sa didn't seem
to notice or care. He sipped his tea and looked toward the window, which slowly let in the light of the sun.
Gan swallowed his tea, silently ordering his body to relax. He may be beautiful beyond most, but he is still a man… and a priest. These kinds of thoughts are immoral. Besides, I still love my wife. I will avenge her death, and she will be waiting for me in the spiritual plane. I must remain pure when that time arrives.
Abruptly, Sa stood up and said, “You should rest here for a few days, and then you are free to do as you please.”
“Thank you, Master Ling,” said Gan with a nod of his head as he stood in honor of his host.
“However…” added Sa, “if you choose to take revenge on those who hurt you, remember that the white dragon's blessing does not come without consequence.”