Bound By Blood (2 page)

***

Pag
ãe
s
~
truths which have been hidden by those of power who wished them so.

Pavŕa
~
Ancient w
ord for father
. Origins are unknown but suspected to be Phãegen.

Phãegen
~
They are the
Mopp
ães
(children)
of nature
. They worship a God
and
a Goddess. They are no
t immortal but can live for hundreds of years
.

Prid
ŕ
yk
~
The evil version of the Lycãons. Their souls are possessed with a
Drãelac (see glossary)
and are not true wolf.

***

Quickening
~
Happens during intercourse when the essence or energy of two immortals merges or when their souls intertwine. This causes the environment around them to change, their passions to heighten and the friction between the two to become something like euphoria. It is during this phase that a male may gain pleasure, direct contact with the energy of the Goddess through a female made in her image. For the greatest of all essence to be experienced, a female must be brought to this state so that the male can channel it from her.

Obryss
~
constant blood drinkers. Even when their bellies are full they still have a need for more blood. They torment their victims by making loud sounds like a firecracker and frighten them by moving objects, much like a poltergeist. Sometimes they are confused with being nothing more than a poltergeist. Their shapes shift, from black shadowy mists to the seeming of small children crying out in the forests alone. It makes it difficult for their prey to attack them, since they seem to be innocent one minute and deadly in the next.

***

Sanies
~
blood that is corrupt or poisoned. It’s a word that when used, is a great insult, especially to someone who is of pure blood because it means that their blood or bloodline is tainted, unworthy.

Sandalwood
~
A deep, earthy, musky scent which some immortal Strygĩ and Lycãon males naturally give off like cologne. It’s very intoxicating to females, almost addictive. The older and more powerful the male, the stronger the scent.

Sephŕe
l ~
The Sephŕel are shy little creatures with golden skin, hair, eyes and win
gs.
Males are silver.
They stand about three feet high and are obsessed with spinning and weaving. They sing enchantments over the material they use, a type of
web, which is released from their finger-clawed
tips. While they sing the song of their spells, the web changes to thread, becoming strong
, enchanted,
and unbreakable.

Shift, shifting
~
Changing from one form into another, for example, when a Lycãon changes from man to wolf.

Skin Walkers
~
They assume the identity of another by feeding from their flesh and blood. In this way, they are able to assume their image, voice and actions. They must continue to feed from the individual and the individual must be kept alive in order for the Skin Walker to hold on to their image.

Strygĩ
~
A type of Vampyŕe. They
have high metabolisms and burn energy quickly. They need essence to survive but if blood is not available then they can acquire it from other things such as the energy of trees,
grass,
and the world around them.

***

Templus
~
a temple.

TEŔAH
~
is the universe and planet in which this story takes place. It is made up of
realm
s and dimensions.

***

Vapor
~
(See Mist)

Vampére
~
Evil Vampires whose soul is replaced or filled with Dark Matter. They never feel satisfied, and when hungry they become rabid and murderous.

Vampyŕe
~
Vam
- to drink and Pyre--fire: means to drink from fire. Essence is fire. They are not evil. Example--
Strygĩ

Va
ŕ
lok
~
live in tribes. They are the
half-bred
spawn of a Pridŕyk and another of a lesser evil. They cannot complete a full shift. When
they do shift they may become trapped between man and wolf. Then their minds are lost to madness and they become rabid.

Verms
~
furry worms used to predict the weather.
If storms were coming, verms would go gray and stiff. If cold was coming, they would thicken and turn white. If warmth was on the horizon, then the Verms shed their fur and began spinning their cocoons.

Vestibule
of Scrolls
~
A place in the higher
Realm
s where the history or (pagães) or written testaments are kept on each living thing, from their beginning to end. Since rarely anything is written in permanence, some things written in the scrolls are probability while other things are only hinted at since they have not yet come to be.

Vii
~
a
female
having
some
gifts before she has
experienced her Awakening
.
See Awakening
.

Vlachŕa
~
The most ancient and eldest of the Lycãon clan.

~
Prologue
~

Somewhere between worlds . . .

Time:
Somewhere in the unknown
, yet very far future

             
T
he Crone moved slowly throughout the dark of the cavern
. Her body wobbled
against the ravages of
realm
and
of time. Her eyes were wise regarding the folds of the world
and all its many dimensions. Her thoughts were young, despite the reality of her condition,
aware and awake to the truths spoken no more.

             
The passion and truth of the old ways stirred within her ancient soul. She embraced
the many pages of its truth, known not even to those who believed in them now. Such
memories were fleeting, broken, and erased by the hands of
power, which
held claim over the
many
world
s
in its present state.

             
Yet she remembered.
Yes
, she remembered them always.

             
And with such memory, s
he walked through the dark tunnels of the
hidden
caverns, silent and thinking. The ancient
language carved on
these
walls told the stories of the past and of prophecies yet to come.

             
How sad it was for beings to not know that they were here,
these writings
. Even the mortals,
who explored these d
ark corridors, overlooked them--
the hint of what was written forever in
stone
unnoticed and unseen
.

             
She realized
it would be hard for them to witness
the writing, since time’s cruel hand had
eroded it so.
But i
f one looked with a true heart and gifted eyes, the writing would emerge as
new as the night it was carved there.

             
The Crone’s heart
was
true, and her eyes
were
gifted.

             
So what could the Crone see? W
ithin the dark tunnels were hidden doors carrying the history of those of power
and magic of long past,
of
those who helped shape this
world and so many others
.

             
These were the stories of those who dedicated their lives to an ongoing
battle, which
still went on between the Veils and the worlds the Veils coveted.
And those tales, those truths cried and whimpered against the dark . . . to be told once again.

             
Memoire doors
, which lined the dark corridors she traveled,
are something like tombs, she mused, though without the bodies that
normally would inhabit them. No, instead of bodies they held the truths of lives and
of
memories. They held the legend of their deeds and of the prophecies that were promised to
come.

             
Those who were like her needed great respect for the ones honored in this
sacred
place.

Without that, their saga could not be discovered. Their revelations would never be known.
Their names and deeds would be forgotten . . . .

             
The Crone felt the chill of the energy here. She bowed her head, lowering the torch in
her hand. She
had
respect. She
had
honor.
And she would
never
forget . . . .

             
The you
ng one with her joined in at the Crone's
side. She had been curious about the stories
the Crone told around the fire pits of her people. Perhaps she felt something already
, stirring here, in the dark of this place
.

             
The Crone, feeling the young one’s anticipation, shook her staff toward the walls. A
bright blue flame burned away the dust and corrosion. S
lowly it faded into the blackening dim
.
A soft breeze blew through the caverns. It tickled the silvery strands of the Crone’s
hair, brushing them against her gray cheeks. Her dark eyes began to softly spin a hoary light.
It drifted across the walls in the pattern of a dainty web.

             
The Crone said, “There was a time when mortal and immo
rtal lived together in harmony.
Realm
s opened to other
realm
s.
Portals were but an open entrance to the next dimension. The doorways
between worlds
were never closed.
When the Great Goddess was
heard clearly and had voice, when the
Great God looked proudly
down upon all living within the
world
s
and had for it an ear.
When magic was alive and power was felt and known.
Such things were known and cherished in
the initiation of this universe
. Such things are forgotten about now.”
The Crone’s hardened face suffused with the wanting of yesterday. Her voice was
haunting as she remembered
a time that seemed forever ago
. Her words expressed her memory. She yearned for when life
was everlasting and beautiful.
And she prayed for when life would be so again . . .

             
Until then, she kept her promise.

             
N
ow tha
t the old worlds
were lost, ones such as this child must come
here, just before the time of their awakening
, so that the Crone could fulfill her destiny. It was a part of the
preparation that came
with the delivering of their birthrights. Birthrights brought great power and responsibility as
well as their own sensing of prophecy and purpose.

             
“You must understand the universe and how it was before your time of birth, child,
so that you may value
why
you are here
and
know
what happened to your people.
Understand?” The Crone said this softly, which was rare for her, since her voice was known
to crackle in its deep registers. “For your people did not begin here in this dimension called
Earth. They began in a world very similar but very far from being the same. You must
understand the lives of your bloodlines so that you will recognize the importance of yourself
and
what
you meant to them,
what
they sacrificed for you
,
and for us all. How did we end up
here and what happened to the place we
came from? Will we ever be able to go back or is that world lost for good?
All these things
and much more will be answered
for you
.
I promise.
”