Immortals of Indriell- The Collection

by Melissa A. Craven

  “This gift is who you are, Allie. It’s not something you can just give away. What you can do will be vital to your survival. Your mother and I have done all we can to prepare you for this. You have the strength and character you need to wield this powerful gift. No one else has that right.”

  “So I’m just supposed to go on with life as usual?”

  “Yes, but it will be important for you to forgive yourself,” Navid said.

  Allie nodded, but she knew she could never forget what she’d done to that man.

  “There is another reason for my visit,” Navid said. “I’ve spoken with your grandfather, Allie. He is in hiding in South America, but he sought me out recently.”

  “The Scholar?” Gregg asked in awe.

  “You’ve met him several times, Gregg, you just don’t remember. Alexander prefers to be forgotten. It’s how he’s survived for as long as he has.”

  “The Scholar is my grandfather?” Allie asked. She’d read about the mysterious man who seemed to be more of a legend than an actual person.

  “Your grandmother, the queen, has escaped her prison. For thousands of years, your mother and I believed she was a Coalition captive, stuck in some remote corner of an ancient cell and long forgotten.”

  “Where is she now? Who is with her?” Gregg asked. “The last time she was a free woman, the most technologically advanced invention on the planet was bronze.”

  “We do not know. She is on her own, most likely completely overwhelmed in this modern world. It is paramount that we find her as soon as possible. And for that, we will need your help, Gregg.”

  “You needn’t ask.” Gregg nodded. “My resources are at your disposal.”

  “Who imprisoned her if not the Coalition?” Allie asked.

  “A man we believed to be dead since the Great War. But he survived and has kept the queen under his control for well over two thousand years.”

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Teigan. He was betrothed to your great-grandmother, Eiselynn, before she met Ían and became the first royal to bond with her commoner Complement.”

  “Teigan was the one Ían defeated in the Book of the Indriell Queens?” Allie asked. “Ían took his gift.”

  “And he wants it back,” Navid said.

  “Ían was executed by the Enlightened.” Gregg shook his head, looking as perplexed as Allie.

  “But Teigan has been searching the bloodlines of Indriell for thousands of years, seeking the one whose gift most closely resembles the one he lost,” Navid explained.

  A bolt of fear coursed through Allie. “It's mine, isn't it? He wants my gift?”

  “He doesn't know yet.” Navid reached for her hands again. “That is why we must keep your gift a secret. As long as he doesn't know about you, you're safe. Teigan's mind is twisted. He is over seven thousand years old, extremely powerful, and he is dangerous. He is also the man who raised your sister.”

  ~~~

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  Keep reading for Emerge: The Catalyst (An Immortals of Indriell Short Story)

  Livia's confusing past haunts her dreams.

  Livia's life is not her own. Raised by a brutal father with extraordinary expectations, for most of Livia's life, she's worked tirelessly to gain his approval.

  Until she stopped trying.

  Haunted by memories that don't add up, Livia seeks answers from an unlikely source. Lily Carmichael, a mortal woman, just might hold the key to Livia's dark past … and even more questions about her future.

  A spontaneous trip to New Zealand gives Livia the answers she's been looking for,

  but for Allie, it's the catalyst event that changes her life forever.

  EMERGE

  The Catalyst

  An Immortals of Indriell Short Story

  Melissa A. Craven

  Midnight Hour Studio

  Atlanta

  EMERGE: The Catalyst

  Copyright © July, 2017

  By: Melissa A. Craven

  Midnight Hour Studio INC

  Atlanta, Georgia

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events 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.

  For more information contact: Hello@Melissaacraven.com or visit the author’s website at www.melissaacraven.com

  Cover design by: Rachel Bostwick

  Interior design by: Melissa A. Craven

  ASIN B077WSHFR3 (ebook)

  First Midnight Hour Studio Print Edition: July, 2016

  CATALYST

  [KAT-L-IST]

  noun

  Something or someone that causes activity between two or more persons or forces without itself being affected.

  A person or thing that precipitates an event or change.

  THE IMMORTALS

  Immortals have existed since the beginning of the beginning, long before we yielded the world to our mortal children who have forgotten us. In the modern world, we thrive. Hidden from our enemies who would see us extinct. I am the oldest living Immortal, known as the Scholar—a myth to some and purely fiction to others. I have watched from afar as the governing body of the Immortal world has grown corrupt and lazy.

  We stand on a precipice, waiting for the catalyst event that will propel us into the next age. An uncertain age our prophecies cannot predict.

  —From The Journals of The Scholar

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  “Livia, your father will retaliate if he hears you asking these questions.” Porcia glanced nervously across the wide expanse of gardens that resembled an antebellum rendition of Versailles.

  “He’s not here,” Livia said patiently.

  “And you know he doesn’t need to be here to discover what you’re up to.”

  Her mother was one of the most intelligent women she’d ever known, but she was never one to stand up to Livia’s father, not in all the centuries of their long marriage. Porcia was always more of a pampered prisoner than a respected wife.

  “Mother, I am over two hundred years old. I can handle my father.” Livia stood beside her mother’s lounge, under the shade of two huge oak trees draped in Spanish moss. She watched her paint her toenails a viscious red. In her faded black fatigues, Livia felt downright dowdy next to her stunning mother.

  She loved her mother more than any daughter could, but she always seemed so fragile. She was the only real family Livia had ever known, but Livia had taken on the protective role in their relationship, bearing the brunt of her father’s ire to spare her mother the punishment. Marcus never dared to hurt either of them physically, but he was a controlling man and Livia had learned a long time ago that the only way to earn his respect was to play by his rules. She’d done that for most of her life, working to help him achieve his agenda. But Marcus had never even noticed when his daughter stopped trying to win his approval.

  “The questions you are asking.” Porcia shook her head. “You have no idea the can of worms you are opening.” Her mother enjoyed the fine things Marcus provided for her, and on most days, she didn’t seem to mind her walled prison, but her eyes ocassio
nally still shone with ageless wisdom and a spark of defiance. Livia often wondered if Marcus ever noticed that about her or if he thought she was just a simple woman who liked pretty things. Porcia was once a notorious woman of the Roman Empire and even centuries later, she was not one to be underestimated.

  “There must be a reason these memories are coming to me so clearly now. It’s like … recalling another life you never knew you had. Or recovering after a long battle with amnesia only to remember the insignificant details. Enough to haunt you, but not enough to fill in the missing pieces.”

  “I always knew this day would come, my daughter. You are my daughter. I’ve loved you and raised you inside this gilded cage until you grew strong enough to face him on your own.”

  “Nothing about my past will change the fact that you are my family. But I need to know what these memories mean, Mother.” Livia sat beside her in the shade of the ancient oaks at the farthest reaches of the garden. Marcus rarely allowed Porcia to leave the grounds of their Atlanta home and this was as far as she could go without escort. Beyond the brick wall laid the hustle and bustle of the modern world. Marcus claimed he kept his wife sequestered for her own safety. That too many people would try to use her against him. But Livia always suspected that if given her freedom to come and go as she pleased, Porcia might not choose to return.

  “Tell me what you remember.”

  “Four women, all fussing over me when I was just a child. A blond woman with eyes like mine held my hand. She was with three younger women who looked a lot like her. I think they were her daughters … or maybe her sisters. They seem so happy in the fleeting memories I have of them.”

  “And why do you think this is important?” Porcia screwed the cap back onto her bottle of nail polish.

  “I used to think it was just a dream that I could dismiss. But it only grows stronger. The memories are mine and I need to understand them. I feel connected with those women somehow. Like once upon a time they were my family.”

  “They were.” Porcia said with a bitter sigh.

  “Who are they? Are they dead?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have the answers you deserve. But if you are determined to dig into your past, I can lead you to someone who can help.”

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Lily. She is mortal.”

  “Mortal? What would a mortal woman know of my past?”

  “You will have to ask her.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  “Sir! Sir, you need to return to your seat!” The flight attendant chased the ancient Immortal down the narrow aisle of the plane as it began to move.

  Livia felt his presence the moment she boarded the plane and took her seat in first class. He was probably the most ancient Immortal she’d ever encountered and the thought of being trapped on a fifteen-hour flight with such a man made her nervous. She’d even thought about waiting to catch another plane, but after taking the red eye from Atlanta to L.A., she didn’t want to delay her trip to New Zealand any longer.

  “Sir, we are about to take off,” the flight attendant huffed in irritation when she caught him at the juncture between coach and first class. “Please return to your seat.”

  “Humor an old man, dear lady? I’ve never flown first class and I see so many empty seats.”

  “I’ll take you back to your seat, now, sir.”

  “I’d really love to sit with my granddaughter, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” he said, gesturing toward Livia. “Look she even has my nose, bless her. Although it looks much better on her than it does me.”

  Livia cracked a smile at the old man. If manipulation was an artform, he had a talent for it. He’d seen many thousands of years, but he looked to be about fifty. His dark hair threaded with silver, stuck out in disarray. Dressed in flip-flops, faded jeans and a tshirt that said, “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,” he didn’t look like anyone’s grandfather.

  “Just … sit, please.” The flight attendant begged. “Wherever you want.”

  “Excellent. Could I also trouble you for a brandy and a few snacks? I do enjoy the roasted cashews.” His oblivious smile probably won him just about anything he wanted.

  “After take off, sir.” She gave him an exasperated smile.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked once they were alone.

  “Please,” Livia said. He was up to something and she’d rather have him close by so she could keep an eye on him.

  “My presence can be unsettling.” He groaned as he took the seat beside her. “I figured the long flight to Auckland would be more comfortable for you if I came to introduce myself. That and the comfortable reclining seats.”

  “Not to mention the superior snacks?” Livia teased.

  “A man could starve back there with those sad little packages of peanuts.”

  “How often do you do this?”

  “What?”

  “Talk your way into first class.”

  “Oh, only every time I fly. I’m Alexander, by the way.” He offered his hand. “And you are Livia, daughter of Marcus Servius and Porcia Catonis of ancient Rome, lovely to meet you.”

  “How did you—” Livia’s eyes widened in surprise as she realized who this man really was. “You’re the Scholar.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  Some believed the Scholar was a myth. A man so ancient even the Immortals had forgotten him. It was said that he was responsible for the writing of history, for he had seen it all.

  “Unfortunately, once we reach our destination, you won’t remember meeting me. It is the nature of my gift—the thing that protects me from my enemies. Men like your father.”

  “My father?”

  “Marcus is an ancient himself. But of course you know that. We go back to the time before mortals existed, centuries before the Great War. I didn’t like him much then and he’s only gotten worse with time. Not to speak ill of him. I’m sure he’s managed to be a good father.”

  “He has his moments,” Livia said.

  “He’s always blamed my family for that mess of a war. And we’ve always blamed him for the rise of the idiocy that pushed us all into the war to begin with. All water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned, but Marcus never could let it go.”

  Livia didn’t know what to say to that, but was rescued by the flight attendant arriving with the drink cart.

  “Brandy for you, sir.” She set the tiny bottle in front of Alex along with an assortment of snacks.

  “Keep ‘em coming.”

  “The drinks or the snacks?” Livia asked.

  “The snacks of course.” Alex gave the flight attendant his best smile.

  “And for you, Miss?”

  “Water is fine, thank you.”

  “The question isn’t about Marcus, though,” Alex continued without missing a beat. “He is predictable in his sameness. The question is about you, dear girl.”

  “Me?”

  “I know exactly what Marcus is planning. And he knows, I know what he’s up to. But I don’t know where you fit into it all. The fact that you’re here, on this flight, heading to New Zealand to seek out Lily Carmichael suggests you are on the right path. But it remains unclear where your loyalties will lie once the proverbial crap hits the fan.”

  Livia choked on her water wondering how the man knew so much about her. He is the Scholar. He knows everything.

  “It is simply the age old question of nature verses nurture, Livia.” Alexander gave her a penetrating stare. “Will you become the woman your father has created, or will your roots be strong enough to set you on the right path? It is up to you, but you must make a decision soon.”

  “A decision about what?”

  “You and I both know what Marcus wants. He will stop at nothing until he finds the boy my wife predicted would change the course of our world. Will you be the one to help him do it?”

  “A prediction?” Livia’s mouth went dry. She knew exactly what he mea
nt and she wanted no part of this game of cat and mouse.

  “Everyone in our world knows about the child of prophecy,” Alex said gently.

  “The Power is corrupted and will remain so until a new generation is born with the strength of their ancestors, led by one with an unsullied, natural connection with the Power. His heart will guide him, giving him the restraint to wield his Power wisely. He will gather his equals and together they will stand against those who persist in the corruption of the natural order. He will be strong and fierce in his beliefs, and steadfast in his love. Born the second child of the seventh daughter of his line, he alone will possess the skills and the knowledge to heal what has been broken. He alone will have the courage to judge unbiased and mete out the ultimate punishment. Until the time of his birth, may we prepare the way and hope for the future of all the races of men.”

  “Your wife is the ancient prophet?”

  “She is.”

  “Then you know prophecy can only be understood by those who have access to the one who gave it.” She turned to meet his gaze.

  “I do. And so does your father. I haven’t seen my wife in a very long time.” Alex stood to stretch his legs. “But I will see her again. And soon. Make a decision, Livia.” He turned and headed toward the facilities.

  Livia reclined her seat, feeling pensive about the task ahead of her. She felt almost foolish in her mad dash across the world.

  It’s silly, but I have to know what this woman knows of my past.

  Livia shook off the uneasy feeling she’d had since she boarded the plane. It was nothing more than the presence of the old Immortal making his way back to his seat in coach. For one as old as he, it would have been nice if he’d taken a moment to come set her at ease for the long flight.