Awakening - Book of Fire (Blood Heritage #1) (17 page)

The energy of the blood he sheds is taken inside him, strengthening him. And then she loses it, cannot hold the string of thought. She knows there is so much more there, but it is gone, out of her reach. The other girls feel the power disengage. They feel the energy dissipate, leaving only a silent emptiness, and they are relieved. Most of them have never felt or seen anything like this before, though they all have some power it is truly minute compared to what has just happened. Amber feels a sense of connection with Rissa and Dawn, she has touched them, shared their power, and she knows it is a gift they have allowed her. Smiling at them Amber waits, they all sit in silence, each afraid to be the first to speak.

Amber determines she will learn to control her visions, she has to accept this power is real and beneficial instead of seeing it as a curse; find a way to see it as a gift. Amber knows she must discover how to call on the power within herself. Amber understands something about the blood is the source of her power, and it can be forcefully taken or freely given to magnify and help her guide what is already within her. Realization flashes within her mind equally terrifying and exciting; her hand is no longer bleeding the wound healing quickly upon the completion of the ritual. She feels alive, and restless. Amber feels an overwhelming desire
to shed her skin and escape the bounds of the flesh
,
though she has no idea what this means. Amber wonders
what in the world is happening to me?

She doesn't really have anything new to give them from this vision except a very detailed description of the man. He is an amazingly far-fetched twisting of fantasy and truth. He can't actually look like that, everyone would notice a man like him running around town. The scars, the dark complexion, the long dark hair. He is not exactly inconspicuous, covered with piercings and dark tattoos that make him easy to identify if he can be found. The tribalesque persona makes him stand out easily, even among a crowd.

Amber isn't ready to trust she’s seeing things in a literal light and not wrapping things up with the elements of dreams. Perhaps there is only some truth in what she is seeing and her mind is filling in the rest with fairy tale details that make up her fantasy world. Her dreams and nightmares are bleeding into the message. It’s not like she is trained at this kind of thing, she’s practically a virgin to this pagan world. The only thing she is absolutely sure of is that Rissa and Dawn helped her to make it happen, feeding the vision and the rising power within her. They are still bleeding so Amber rips the bottom of her skirt tying pieces around their hands. The girls are intrigued Amber has managed to heal and are too stunned to say anything. She has power, there’s no denying that, and Rissa is very glad they are friends.

No one speaks much as the girls say their simple goodbyes. The tension in the air is palpable. Amber is a bit worried the other girls are judging her, that she’s not as accepted in this circle as she previously thought, but in truth they are just unsure how to react. They’ve never felt this kind of energy within the circle before, and they are completely unsure what to say or do next. Each is very new to the magic experience. Dawn stays behind clearing the energy of the casting, grounding the power and putting out the fire. "
This group is made up of new initiates and some of them have only seen a couple of ceremonies; their powers are simple, natural and unguided for the most part.
" Rissa explains, on the way back to the shop. Rissa and Dawn are the only higher-level practitioners within this small coven. The three will go together next time, without the others to ensure no-one gets too uncomfortable. Rissa worries about how much she should tell the Circle and without the presence of the others she has more control over how much information gets to them. Dawn she knows is trustworthy and Amber has no ties with the group as of yet. Rissa hopes to keep it that way as long as possible.

Amber doesn't know Dawn and Rissa shared her vision until Rissa asks if they always look that clear. Rissa explains her visions are more like shadows in a fog and she doesn't experience the vision in the way Amber does. "I understands completely now the panic you felt during the birthing vision now, and I am so sorry I wasn't a little more sympathetic at the time." The intensity and overwhelming reality of Amber's visions is far greater than anyone could have been prepared for.

Dawn isn't feeling talkative and her cold gaze makes Amber nervous as the girls part ways. Wanting some time alone to process what she has seen, it felt like she was standing there watching the entire scene right next to the horrible man. She smelled the foulness of the water, she felt as if she could simply reach out and take the crying child from the hands that held him. She needs some space to catch her breath. To be honest, Amber's power scares her. Dawn has known many powerful women, but none that can invade her and take from her like that. Though she freely gave of herself, she felt the pull, and is painfully aware Amber could have continued to take, and then what?…
Could she have stopped her had Amber decided to kill her?

Dawn knows some of the prophecies and she thinks she understands the triad, she is just not prepared for the overwhelming nature of Amber's awakening. That is what this was, she is sure of it. She read about it in the Circle's Book of Answers, and remembers the text clearly:

"The bonding of three dark children shall deliver her to where the ancient power flows into the river of darkness forever awakening the sight of the chosen."

There were three of them and they had stood in the dark waters, sharing the blood, the power and the sight. That must be the bonding of bloodlines the prophesy described. Together they opened Amber to what she will become. It is done, and now they will have to reap the consequences. Rissa is sure Amber will be an asset and a champion for their cause, and Dawn can only hope she is right. Something doesn't feel right to Dawn and she can't put her finger on it.

Dawn disperses the last of the embers, closing her eyes and soaking up the calm and the smell of the warm earth. She is truly a daughter of nature enjoying every moment outdoors. Sitting down for a moment, she stares at her wounded hand, wondering if stitches might be in order. She laughs as an absurd idea pops into her head.
Perhaps Amber can just zap it closed, hmm… She healed herself apparently, maybe she can work that magic on others too. Too late now, Amber isn't here
, she thinks as she heads home, finally feeling the stinging ache of the day's events.

Rissa, on the other hand, is with Amber, and by sheer accident discovers that Dawn's inkling of understanding is absolutely true. Amber reaching for Rissa's hand to look at the wound, feels a warmth building inside her. She focuses of how badly she wants to see her friend whole again letting the warmth spread out into the damaged flesh. Rissa pulls away, crying out,
“What the hell You burned me
"!... when she looks at her hand, the flesh is whole again. There isn't even a scar in place of the wound. Amber feels the pull from within her and understands immediately there is a price to pay for her action. She feels the energy pulsing through her leaving to do her bidding. She feels weakened, and she is suffering, but she is exhilarated. She wants this gift, she can accept this, she will actually be able do some good with this power. She has not fully come to grasp the physics of all things: Every force must be opposed by another equal and opposite. All things must be held in balance.

When Amber finally makes it home, falling into bed, she is far more exhausted than she has been in a long time. She has seen evil, touched power, and become a new person all within a few hours. Now she needs to sleep, needs to dream of happy things, of flowers and beaches, and horses with wings. She’s practically mumbling when her head hits the pillow. Immediately drifting off, she dreams of the things she asked for; not quite in the way she anticipated.

She sees meadows of white flowers, covered in the blood of a thousand tribes, she sees war, and devastation and a past that no one remembers. She sees children running for their lives, and fire falling from the sky turning them to ashes. She watches their tiny bodies blowing away in the wind, as their mothers stand weeping. She sees men falling to their knees begging the Gods to stop punishing them as their heads are cut from their bodies with invisible blades. She sees women slashing their own throats to appease the demon gods to no avail.

Dark horses with wings of steel and hooves of lightning trample those still standing, beating their battered bodies into the ground. No one survives, this is the first cycle of humanity, and it has been a failure. The onslaught continues until the rains come. When the waters wash away the sins of the world, they become dark and rise slowly, waves full of blood, beaten and broken bodies moving back and forth over once fertile and glorious lands. The Eden of Humanity is no more, and Dante's Inferno looks like a child's nightmare in comparison to the reality of this end.

The Master has tired of his playthings, they have not followed his rules and he is set on punishing them. The destruction is complete and what was once lush and beautiful lies in ruins as the waters recede. The earth is scorched and full of pain, the ghosts of the slain tainting the purity of the earth so nothing grows where they have died. The cavernous deserts swallow the water and their desolation is beautiful to him. The forests and lakes are given venom in all forms to challenge the new breed to survive. The fruits of the earth are no longer safe to eat, only the strong will survive. Only the purest will live, and the weak and unworthy will fall at his feet.

She sees a tremendous pyramid partially complete on the site of the slain, to keep the spirits quiet, they said. She is seeing Egypt... Her breath catches in her throat and she knows what she sees actually happened. She knows this world is reality, and the history books have no bearing on the dark truth of it all. The world is hidden behind a veil of shadow and mist. There is someone, something pulling the strings, and humanity consists of nothing more than surplus pieces on a huge chess board. The Gods are cruel and dangerous creatures with no mercy or sense of justice.

Getting up quickly, in the darkness of night. It is time to open the box, could it be a Pandora's box unleashing a hell on earth? She hesitates, but has no choice, it is her destiny. She is amazed to find the latch, which was locked, now opens without a struggle, revealing the sacred contents within. She has to read the book, the book with the symbol on the cover, The book of Answers, her dream revealed to her the knowledge she seeks sleeps within the beautiful and well-aged leather covers. The crispness of the pages feels heavenly between her fingers. The paper smells of old temple incense and smoke. She wonders at the hands recording these words so meticulously, so long ago. Voices echo from the pages, whispering memories of times lost but not forgotten, like the fragrance that lingers forever, reminding Amber of love.

The time passes quickly as the pages reveal their secrets. Her story is there, spread out before her. The story of time, impossible amounts of time. The story of children born to feed his need for blood. The story of cities sacrificing every single first son born of their loins to save themselves from the wrath of his anger. "
And the angel saw the blood of the lamb on the doorways and passed them by."
She remembers the stories, she heard them as a child. She reads of towers built to touch the sun, to climb to the heavens where the god rides in his golden chariots. She reads how the tongues of the infidels were ripped out of their mouths by an angry wind for their ignorance. Amber understands this is not the God so many worship, but some dark and powerful beast. This God represents all that is horrible within mankind. In a twisted way this makes sense to her,
we were created in his image, to be like him. Maybe he doesn't like what he sees of himself when he looks at us.

She reads of a city turned to salt and stone for one child escaping the sacrifice, for one mother hiding one son from the bleeding. For one woman's love a city lain to waste. She reads of the crucifixion, the ceremony of awakening for the one Son, the only Son the God ever wanted to live. His death bringing about the sacrifice and the blood of the virgin willingly poured into the cup of life mixing with the blood of the Son awakening his power so he can rise. He chooses a tribe of peoples leading them to what he lovingly calls salvation; under his rule, his propagation, he creates the second ancient line.

Funny, she has heard all of these stories before, from a completely different angle. She has read the Bible more than once, and realizes that much of what was written has been taken from this history, but the meaning has been completely misrepresented, or misinterpreted, or perhaps just confused in translation. Was this chance or by design? She cannot be sure. Nothing she has seen or read makes her feel sure of anything anymore. Were religions built on faded memories or intentional untruths? Neither settles well, and her stomach aches.

She wants to stop reading, to go back to bed and fall into a dreamless and quiet restfulness. Yet she can't stop, she needs to understand what all of this means. And so she continues, well into the early morning hours. Until her exhaustion overcomes her and she feels overwhelmed by the weight of her fear and frustration.