Darque Wants (44 page)

“What I am up to isn't really your concern, dear, and I wouldn't be too sure about yourself,” Malcom said taking a step closer. “I have my people at the edge of the clearing. Seeing you here with Meredith just confirms in their minds what I have already told them.”

              “And what the hell did you tell them this time, Father?” Meredith asked as she scanned the clearing's edge and noticed the telltale signs of movement. Her heart began to race. They were outnumbered, if it came down to a fight. She hadn't been in a fight for years. She had been in the fucking PTA, for God's sake.

              “Oh, I told them the prodigal daughter had only returned because she was a spy for the Hunters,” Malcom said calmly. He was either unfazed by the thought of a fight, or he was very confident on the outcome.

              “Girls,” Fiona said over her shoulder. “Leave now and don't look back.”

“Mother,” Iris began.

              “Don't argue, Iris. Go. Protect the others,” Fiona commanded.

              “I don't really think they need to leave just yet,” Malcom said as he raised his hand in the air. “And that daughter of yours has been a particular difficulty over the years. I think I will just rid myself of that now.”

His hand fell with his finger pointed at Iris. Kat immediately grabbed Iris's arm and shoved her with all her strength. Fiona dove back towards the girls as a bright blue ball of fire flew from the tree line across the clearing and sailed towards them.

              “Son of a bitch,” Meredith shouted as she leaped forward towards her father, her hands glowing brightly as the flames surged from inside her. At her charge the tree line came alive and the clearing filled with Guardians on the attack.

Anna, still feeling full of power, ran to the front of the pack and began launching bright balls of fire towards the oncoming attacks. Kat, having tumbled over with Iris, picked herself back up. She felt a wave of energy flowing inside her as she saw the oncoming attackers. Her body burst into flames, and she rose up in the air, arms stretched to each side. Iris looked up, stunned with the power she had never seen in Kat before, and marveled with pride as Kat flew into the calamity before them.

“You can't win, Daughter,” Malcom said as he struggled with Meredith. “Power or not, you're up against far more than you know.”

“I've had enough of you for two lifetimes,” Meredith said, her flaming hands striking out towards Malcom in a fury. As the girls all fought with the Guardians, they lost track of one another until a loud cry from Meredith split through the darkening sky of early evening. “Stop!” she screamed out. “Guardians, hold!” Kat had her burning hands around the neck of some girl, who could have been younger than herself, when she heard Meredith call out. She released the girl and stepped back. Anna's hand was raised, dripping with blood, as she sat atop a man twice her size whose face had seen better days. The Guardians all fell to a standstill. “Guardians, listen to me. I am Meredith, daughter of Malcom. You all know me. Malcom has betrayed you. He has betrayed us all. And now he has fallen.” Meredith pointed towards Malcom's body, bent and broken over a large rock at the edge of the clearing. “As his heir, I assume his seat as Elder, as is my right! And I command you to put down your weapons and...,”

“Mom!” Anna screamed, cutting off Meredith's victory speech. Meredith immediately turned and looked in the direction Anna's outstretched arm was pointed. Just beyond the clearing in the edge of the trees sat Iris. She was kneeling over her mother with tears rolling down her face silently. Meredith ran through the crown of onlookers and fell to her knees across from Iris. Kat rushed to their side as well, while Anna stood behind them looking down.

“Hey, Fiona,” Meredith said. “What's up? You getting lazy on me already?” Meredith looked down and saw the dark blood pooling on the ground below Fiona's back. She reached below and slid her hand behind Fiona's back and felt the wound. “Oh stop playing, Fi. That's nothing.” Meredith said as the tears started to roll down her cheeks too.

              “Stop it, Meredith,” Fiona said as her voice slipped past mouth her with a rasp, and blood trickled down from her lips. “You know what you have to do. The girls are too young. They aren't ready.”

              “Shut up, Fi. You're fine. You're gonna be just fine,” Meredith said placing her hand on Fiona's cheek. “You're OK. Get up. Just get Ok.”

              “I'm not OK, and you know it,” Fiona said as she smiled up at Meredith. “The Queen doesn't have the luxury of denial.”

              “Thank God, I'm not the Queen then,” Meredith said as she tried to chuckle but choked on the falseness of it. “You can keep that job anyway. It sucks.”

              “You will be the Queen soon enough, my old friend. You can't leave this burden up to one of them, and you know it.” Fiona said as she choked on the blood that was now flowing freely from the corner of her mouth. “And yeah, it sucks. Sorry. But it does have some perks.”

              “Perks, what perks?” Meredith asked as she tried wiping the blood away, but the flow was simply too much.

              “I raised a beautiful and strong daughter,” she said, looking toward Iris who was still, like a stone, beside her. “That's my baby girl. You hold tight onto Kat. You need her more than you know, Honey. And yes, that's an order.”

              “Yes, My Lady,” Iris said firmly as she looked on.

              “Kat, you are a doll. You do look so much like your mother. I am very proud to have you as my daughter now, too.” Kat choked and couldn't say a word. She just placed her hand on Fiona's arm and squeezed.

              “That's enough of this bullshit soap opera stuff. You are going to get up. Do you hear me, damn it?” Meredith said as she shook Fiona's arm.

              “You can hear them. They're close, and you know it, Meredith,” Fiona said as the sounds of scratching metal sounded through the woods. The Fir Bolgs were coming. “You have to do it, Meredith. Bring the Great Houses together. Do it for me, for all of us.”

              “I can't,” she said as she cried freely now. “I can't, Fi.”

              “You couldn't then, but you can now, Meredith. Besides, you owe me one,” Fiona said, reaching and taking Meredith hands and drawing them to her chest. “It was good to see you again. I missed you so much, Meredith.”

“I missed you, too, Fi,” Meredith said. “I missed you, too.” Suddenly, Meredith's hands exploded in a ball of spiraling light that rose up around them like a sun filling the sky. The darkness of the night sky pushed back as the brilliance blossomed in swirls of flames and light that danced and then faded away. The darkness quickly collapsed around them as they sat beside Fiona's lifeless body. The Guardians stood in silence behind them as the women all stayed still in their grief until finally Meredith rose. Her hands soaked in Fiona's blood, she wiped the tears from her face. “I am your Queen,” Meredith said, her voice breaking as she spoke. She drew in her breath deep and spoke again. “I am your Queen!” she proclaimed loudly, and her voice echoed through the clearing and off into the trees. “I am not just the Queen of the Guardians. I am not just the Queen of the Hunters. I am the Heir of Ceridwen. I am the only Queen!” Meredith moved out into the clearing and looked back at her friend laying on the ground, surrounded by the grief of her loved ones. “The Elders have betrayed us. They have lied to us to protect the worlds they built. There is no war between the Great Houses. There is no enemy among Heirs. I will unite all of our people, all of our bloodlines.

Iris, you are now the head of your house.” she said, looking at Iris as she knelt beside her mother. Iris drew in a breath you could hardly notice, even if you were right beside her, and she rose to her feet. Kat looked up at her and knew her pain but also saw her strength.

“I am the head of my house,” Iris said, her voice steady and firm. “And you are Queen, My Lady. The Great Houses will unite behind you against our true enemy.” The crowd of Guardians cheered and everyone roared, except those who had just lost so much. Meredith had the field cleared, and the wounded taken back to the Keep. Iris, Kat, Anna, and Meredith lifted the body of the Queen and solemnly carried her home. The Queen was dead. The new Queen would rise, and the Heirs of Ceridwen would unite.

*****

              The cool air of the late night saw the mist from the river move in through the tree and fill the forest grove. Malcom's body lay across the rock where Meredith had left him. The leaves moved in the trees, and the sound of steel scraping against steel echoed through the darkness as a tall figure bent over Malcom. His hand gripped Malcom's face and turned it towards the sky.

              “Malcom,” the voice rolled with a sharp hiss as the breath of it could be seen like smoke flowing towards Malcom's lifeless body. The vapors swirled around his face and slipped like snakes into his nostrils. “Wake up, Malcom.” Malcom's eyes shot open, and he gasped as the vapors filled his mouth and slipped down his throat. “There you are. Now we can talk.”

              “You brought me, you brought me back,” Malcom gasped, struggling to look around and take in what had happened.

              “Yes, I did,” the man said as he patted Malcom on the cheek. “Now tell me why I shouldn't just walk away and allow you to die again all alone?”

              “I can still be useful. I can still make it happen,” Malcom said, trying to regain enough consciousness to bargain.

              “Useful,” The man laughed as he stood up over Malcom. “How have you been useful? You bungled things after all that work 19 years ago, and you lost me my baby. And now the Hunters and Guardians could actually unite under your own daughter as Queen.

Mother will not be pleased with you at all. So I guess I will be leaving you to your death after all.” The man turned and began walking away as he heard Malcom call out.

              “Tell Arwin,” he choked out.

              “Yes, tell her what?” The man stopped and looked over his shoulder halfway towards where Malcom lay.

              “Tell your mother I can still get her a vessel,” Malcom said.

              “That's alright, old friend. I do believe I can manage this one on my own, this time,” the man said and again started to walk away.

              “Don't leave me like this,” Malcom called out as he watched the man fading off in the mist before the tree line. “Don't leave me like this, Wilson! Wilson!” Malcom screamed, feeling his breath slipping away as the man vanished from sight.

The End

A Survival of Ancient Atlantis Romantic Fantasy

Part 1

Aikaterine Seas

Copyright © 2016

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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER

Please don’t be stupid and kill yourself. This book is a work of FICTION. Do not try any new sexual practice that you find in this book. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. Every character in this book is over 18 years of age. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY.  Enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

Kirrowind drew in a ragged breath. His chest strained with the effort of his inhalation.  The smoke hanging in the air made him cough.  He collapsed to his knees, his legs finally giving out underneath him.  Days of fighting had finally come to a close.  It was finally over. 

              He looked around at the carnage and felt pain in his heart.  All of this was his fault.  The Valley of Wandersend used to be a peaceful place, covered in lush forests.  Now, because of him, there was nothing but death and fire. 

              Still kneeling, he choked back a tear.  All around him, he could see the bodies of his friends.  He could hear the distant screams and groans of the dying.  The stench of death sat heavy in his nostrils.  Why? Why did this have to happen?

              Then she walked toward him; an angel of a woman seemingly untarnished by the bloodshed and burning around her.  Kirrowind felt like he knew her, but he couldn't remember how.  He couldn't make out any features since the sun shone behind her and created a halo effect around her head.

              “Pick your head up, Kirrowind,” she said in a soft voice. “This does not need to happen.  You and I can stop this.  Stay strong.”

              Kirrowind jerked awake.  He was soaked in a cold sweat and his heart was racing.  He thanked the gods that it had only been a dream.  But, it felt so real that he couldn't shake it off.  He sat up and looked out of the window of his dwelling.  He could see the sun rising in the east over the horizon of the Great Sea.  As the sun's first rays peaked over the tall trees of the Oldwoods village, he could hear birds beginning their chorus of morning music and the rest of the village moving about in their own dwellings as they prepared for the day.  He was still shaken from his nightmare so he decided to go for a quick morning hunt to clear his head.  The cool morning air would do him some good.

              He rolled out of bed and threw on a thin fur cloak to keep the chill of early autumn off his skin.  Before he walked out of the opening of his home and down the stairs that were carved in the thick trunk of the tree that served as his residence, he grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows. 

              The leaves of the Oldwoods made a soft crunch under Kirrowind's feet as he reached the ground.  He took in a deep breath of the cold autumn air and picked up the scent of a large stag that couldn't be more than a twenty minute hike away.  His keen sense of hearing picked up all the sounds of the forest.  He could hear the various small animals scurrying through the trees and along the ground.  He could even hear the ants working under the ground beneath him if he listened hard enough.

              It was these moments when the world made the most sense to Kirrowind.  He loved the simplicity of the hunt.  There was a clear objective and the rules were simple: find, shoot, kill, eat.  Kirrowind wished that everything in life was that simple.  As he prepared to head into the forest to track the stag, he spotted his friend Spiroot coming down the path on his way to work in the kitchens.

              “Hey Kirrowind, how's life?” Spiroot shouted as he jogged up to greet Kirrowind. 

              “Fine, I guess,” Kirrowind replied. “Just had a bad dream last night. I'm heading out for a hunt to calm down a bit.”

              “What was your dream about? You know that it helps to talk about these things.”

              “I'd rather not talk about it. I know that the Mystics say it's good to discuss our dreams, but I'm not really sure I believe everything they say.  They're just old men making things up sometimes.”

              Spiroot gasped.  “You shouldn't say things like that.  They know when you talk about them.  You don't want to be on their bad side when it's time to move on from this life to the next.”

              Kirrowind felt bad.  He had forgotten that his friend took the word of the Mystics directly to heart.  “Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.  We've been friends since we were babies, I should learn to listen to you more,” he admitted.

              “Yeah, you should.  My advice would have saved you plenty of trouble when we were kids. You're just stubborn.  Or you're a glutton for punishment,” Spiroot joked.

              “You know it is way more fun when I don't listen to you.  Remember when we stole all of Old Caroleaf's chickens and hid them in his tree? Oh, he was so mad!”

              The two of them shared a laugh as they thought about the mischief they caused as adolescent boys.               

              “I still don't understand why you don't believe in the Mystics,” Spiroot said. “You were a trained Disciple.  You are even fluent in the Ancient Language.”

              “You know why I don't believe anymore.  When my mother got sick and died, the Mystics couldn't explain to me why they couldn't heal her.  That's when I lost faith,” Kirrowind responded. 

              Spiroot nodded as he remembered how hard Kirrowind had taken the death of his mother.  Finally he said, “I have to get to the kitchens.  The Cook tribe has to work year round. Not like you Hunters that only work when the seasons are right,” Spiroot joked, trying to lighten the mood.  He said goodbye and carried on his way to work.

              Kirrowind waved goodbye to his friend and kept walking into the woods.  After walking around trying to catch the trail of that stag again and still struggling to shake the terror of his nightmare, he decided that it might be best to go speak to his father.

              He walked briskly back into the village and found his father in the Counsel Tree in the center of the village.  Since his father was the Chief Patriarch of the Valley, he was seated on the highest seat in the circle of chairs in the center of the great hollowed out oak tree. 

              “Father, I need to speak to you.  I have had a nightmare and I'm having trouble forgetting about it,” Kirrowind said as he bowed his head in respect.

              “My son, I love you but we have much bigger problems right now than your bad dreams.”

              “Chief Strotwater, perhaps we should listen to the boy.  Maybe his dream has something to do with the things in the sea,” a Mystic spoke up from behind the Chief's chair.

              Strotwater reluctantly agreed and Kirrowind told the story of the battle that he had dreamed about.  He told his father and the Mystics about the death and fire and destruction of the Valley.  He did not tell them about the girl.  He felt that it was not important for them to know that part.  When he reached the end, he saw wide-eyed terror on everyone's faces.  Strotwater and the two Mystics huddled together and began whispering until finally the Chief spoke up.

                            “Son, I am glad you came to us about this.  It is indeed important information.  There is something coming from the Great Sea.  I have been discussing what we should do about it with the Mystics.  We believe this dream may have been a prophecy.  Now that we know what is coming, we know how to prepare for it.”