Bound By Blood (30 page)

             
“My Awakening is of no one else’s concern but my own. If anything, I should be angry that you stole my dreams from my
true
destined
A
wakener and
then
used me to set you free.
"

             
"Samanthŕa, what do you mean?" Chymeŕah stepped in appearing quite surprised but Samanthŕa ignored her mother and kept her focus right on
him
.

             
"Well?
Isn’t that what happened? It is because of
me
that you are here now
, isn’t it? A
nd maybe, just maybe my sisters played a pa
rt of it as well?” Samanthŕa’s tone was spiteful.

             
“Samanthŕa, that is not —" Dezar
ãe tried to interrupt
but failed.

             
“How would
you
know?
" Her gaze pierced her sister. "
You are so ready to be A
wakened that you
are blind to everything else.
You
would not realize the truth of it or if you had been enchanted or tricked.
It is their power,
Dezarãe. It draws us in, moth to flame. It is addictive.
” Samanthŕa saw Dezar
ãe’s face melt with despair
,
which made her feel horrible
,
but her tongue could not stop. She directed her attention back to
Daŕ
ēus
. “
I care
not
if you are the Father of the Blood
. If
you
are accusing my father of committing treason then I say perhaps he had good reason. Maybe
you
are Evil or maybe you betrayed your own bloodline.
Maybe you tried to attack my father first!
Who knows
why
you deserved the
S
leep of the
D
amned, but if you did, know this,
I
will find out
;
and if I have made some mistake
by releasing you
, I will correct it.
Do not be fooled by my lack of knowing, concerning the old ways and laws, for if you
Daŕ
ēus Dracu
ŕa are a threat, I, by the blood in my veins, will end you. This I swear!”
Just as she finished, she felt sick all over. She felt a rage inside her that she had never experienced before. She felt possessed and then embarrassed because she did not understand
where
it was coming from.

             
“
Samanthŕa
, are you alright?”
Chymeŕah
obviously
noticed her go pale.
"You do not look well. Daughter . . ."

             
Samanthŕa
shook her head
.
Not only was she shamed
but also
she felt f
rightened
,
betrayed,
and trapped. A s
trange
energy fell over her
and it was as if
she had been emptied into the ocean. Something clawed at her to get up. Something nagged at her mind to run. Her body began to throb and ache as if something were
assaulting
her. She pushed herself away from her chair and mumbled. “I - I must excuse myself. I am not f
eeling well. I--"

             
Before
Chymeŕah
could protest or the
B
rothers could stand, she fled the room.

~
Chapter 9
~

Father of the Blood

***

Within the blood stirs such life…

And I swear I can see it
, feel it,
in the soul
of
his eyes.

Oh
, how
I can feel his power shifting.

Or
m
aybe
, just maybe sister,
I was
dreaming.

***

             
D
a
wn spread its golden kiss across the dark
ened
skies
.
Chymeŕah’s
castle was silent. Nothing stirred except in its slumber.
Samanthŕa
could finally leave her chamber in peace. No
ne
would be moving about but
blind, content
servants
and they would ignore her unless provoked.

             
Normally, this was Samanthŕa's favorite time--when the
Realm
s were unmoving and quiet, when nothing stirred or threatened harm, when she was left alone with her thoughts and deeds. Normally, during this time, she would visit the Vestibule of Scrolls, or haunt the Oracles . . .  trying to trick them into speaking out a secret or vision. All of this without Dĩas knowing, of course.

             
But things were not normal now, and what she needed most was sleep.
She entered the
stillroom
,
looking for something strong. Something like brandy
or Vlachŕa spirits,
that could possibly settle her thoughts which spun a wild web inside her distorted brain. She pondered absinthe
,
but she didn’t have the strength to play with the green
Fãe
ŕé
. . . not with so much going on
. She needed rest
,
that was most important,
so brandy was her best bet.
With a bit of a slumbering herb mixed within, she would be lost to dreams in no time.
It would
forc
e her to sleep if she couldn’t make herself.

             
Since she
’d
fled the
D
ining
H
all earlier that evening, she had done nothing more than pace her chamber. She couldn’t explain the feeling which made her run. She couldn’t explain her outbursts of emotion or strange thoughts and moods.
She was famous for holding her tongue or keeping her speculations secret when need be. All of that went out the window and was lost to the outer abyss of the
Realm
s.

             
Nothing
had been the same since she woke up the night of
Beal
-Tene
. Everything seemed to be going downhill. She felt that her entire universe was changing
,
only she was unsure of how or why.

             
The oddest thing was
. . . no matter how strange and unknown everything felt or seemed . . . 
it
also
seemed so familiar. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense. Maybe she needed to consult the Oracles
--
although she didn’t expect anything more from them than what she already knew
,
which was the
probability of nothing weighed against
a universe of
more
. . .
nothing.

             
And in her desperation,
despite the friction she'd been feeling towards him,
s
he had spent
many
hours trying to summons Dĩas as well
,
braving his anger and wrath,
hoping to hear his side of things
,
but he was ignoring her. He never once answered her in her mind
nor
did he send anyone else with a message.

             
So she was lost, not knowing what or who to believe. She did know that if Dĩas attacked the Father of the Blood, well
. . .
she shu
dd
ered to imagine his reasons or the rep
ercus
sions which would come from it. That
,
however
,
raised more questions in her mind. If Dĩas had done this then
why
wasn’t he attacking Daŕ
ēus now?

             
Or better yet, why hadn’t Daŕ
ēus destroyed him? He
had
certainly destroyed enough already if she remembered the
events in the
Tavern correctly. These questions and a thousand others were all the more reason
for her to
need something to silence her mind. She needed rest
,
whether her mind
was willing or not.

             
And to make matters worse, d
aytime was not her normal time to move about. Her bloodline had no fear or weakness
from
it
;
they were simply nocturnal. Those who moved about during the day were pulled and strengthened by the sun. Those like her were driven by the moon. They were children of the moon and all of
its
mysteries. Unlike Evil, they did not suffer
from
the sun’s light. It simply made them tired
,
as their bodies needed to shut down much like a
Phãegen
’s
and sleep. They didn’t need as much sleep
,
but it was good to have some. Every living thing needed to rest its mind and thoughts at some point or another.
Even when she did her normal routine of sometimes sneaking about when the rest of her bloodlines were slumbering, she paid a price. It wasn't easy remaining focused when your strength was dragging along. At times, to make things easier, she would claim powers in order to boost her awareness. But she had no will to work such magic now, not when so many unexplained and unnamable changes were stirring about and within.

             
Yes, she craved
sleep but she didn’t want to dream. She was as fed up with her dre
ams as she was with her chaotic
feelings
,
thanks to Daŕ
ēus
.

             
Samanthŕa
, moving slowly,
found the
brandy, which
was kept in a crystal container on one of the tables. The room was
vague
because the heavy blue curtains were drawn. A
fragile
fire burned in the marble hearth
, high
back
ed
navy
velvet
chairs
encircling it. W
ood
tables sat about in different places.
Scrolls and b
ooks filled the shelves along the walls from the floor to the ceiling. Fine tapestries and art covered th
os
e walls empty of shelves
, scrolls,
and books.
The room
was a
lso a
library
,
and it happened to be one of her favorite places.
No one's dreams could reflect change in here. Her mother promised to keep it as it was . . . . A place
Samanthŕa would practically live in as a child . . . a childhood that was mostly blurred.

             
Sighing, exhausted, t
he brandy
and slumbering herbs she brought with,
touched her lips. She closed her eyes
,
feeling its smooth warmth glide down into the emptiness of her stomach. She was hungry, since she
’d fl
ed from dinner, but she felt no real craving for food now. Earlier she
’d
tried to feed from the fire burning in her room. That alone had satisfied her many times before
,
except now it left her as
vacant
and
famished
as if she
’d
never tried
.
Her nerves were too wired to eat.

             
What is happening to me?
She took a
nother
deep breath a
nd rested
the crystal glass just below her chin against her neck.
What
was
happening?
Deep down, she knew.

             
She would suffer the hunger
,
as it was a clear sign of her Awakening starting to emerge, again no thanks to Daŕ
ēus.
What other choice did she have at this point?
It really
f
ed her fury when she thought of all the nights she
’d
suffered the rituals and potions of Dĩas in order to prevent it
.
A
ll the pain she went through
,
and
the
discomfort
, o
nly to have it all undone in a matter of minutes as soon as the high and mighty
F
ather of the
B
lood opened a vein
.
How she would love to strangle him for that alone.