Bound By Blood (37 page)

             
Adding to her worries, whether she refused to or not, her sisters were going to
Daŕ
ēus’
Realm
. When she told them of his offer, they had already known. Their minds were made
up,
with or without her.
Dezarãe’s
words were
blunt,
even though they contained
as much love as possible.

             
She said,
“The Brothers,
Samanthŕa
, are our
A
wakeners. We are not
like
you. We have no fear of it.”

             
It was more of a reminder than a declaration.
Samanthŕa
could only shake her head as they followed her to the stables.
She moved slow, hiding her discomfort from them.
Chymeŕah
was gone, still searching for
St
a
phãyn. She
’d
made a promise to Samanthŕa that she would find him and keep him safe. Th
en
she would probably slap the warrior
out of
his skull for doing something so stupid, but for reasons she cared not to discuss, she owed h
im this for what happened to Staphãyn's true
mother long ago. That made sense to Samanthŕa since Chymeŕah had taken St
a
phãyn under her wing because of the fact that he suffered a loss that never should have been a
part of his future.

             
Samanthŕa out of fear never told her mother that
she
had
found St
a
phãyn. She struggled with that, praying she made the right decision. Still
,
if Chymeŕah knew then others might find out and right now, she truly feared the aftermath that would come from it.

             
As far as their trip to Daŕ
ēus
’
realm
, there was no better time to attempt it. Dĩas
and the Elders were preoccupied doing Goddess knows what. There was little chance that they would be caught now, at least on the way there.

             
During
the ride t
hrough the snowy mountains
inside the
Realm
of Wintŕa,
which refused to yield to spring,
Samanthŕa
tried to tell
her sisters
that maybe they were not
meeting
their
A
wakeners.
M
aybe their blood had the power to confuse them
,
just as
Daŕ
ēus’
s
had the power to confuse her. She even argued that her dreams of him were not a Vii
’
s normal visions
. She was a tool and he
’d
used her to invoke his freedom.

             
They would not listen. 

             
Instead,
Sameŕald
whipped her horse around to boldly argue
with
Samanthŕa
. “You’re right
,
but only concerning yourself.
"

             
"What are you saying Sa
meŕald?" Samanthŕa was caught off guard by her sister's sudden hostility. Never before has she acted in such a way towards her.

             
"I am saying what you so plainly know.
Daŕ
ēus
is
not
your
A
wakener
,
Samanthŕa
,
and it makes perfect sense that he used you to free him.
There is nothing cruel about it, so stop trying to make us mistrust him."

             
"Speak your thoughts then."

             
"
You are
a direct descendant of
Dĩas
,
and being that you
’
r
e
High
P
riestess, well of course you would have the power to undo what
Dĩas
did.
And
I thank you for freeing
Daŕ
ēus
and the
B
rothers, I really do
;
however, your fate is not the same as ours. What we feel towards the
B
rothers is th
e bond
of a Vii and her
A
wakener. It has nothing to do with confusion or tricks
,
and quite frankly I am becoming a little ill tempered at you
for
trying to argue
about
what we can surely feel for ourselves.”

             
“You should let these feelings go,” Samaŕah
urg
ed
from her snowy white steed
. “And instead focus on who your Awakener truly is. You will know peace finally if you do.”

             
Samanthŕa
was stunned. She couldn’t find words. She was too weak and to
o
tired. She was still
heart
broken
,
and this only made it worse.

             
“I am not even sure
why
you feel you must come
with us
.”
Morrgãyne
shook her head and looked at
Sameŕald
with pity in her eyes.
She adjusted the same white, furry cloak that she and the others wore.
“We should tell her who her
A
wakener truly is
,
so she can get on with whatever it is she does.” She laughed. It didn’t seem like her to laugh like that.

             
"Why I must come?"
Samanthŕa
was confused
. Did they not know Daŕ
ēus had invited her? Did they not know she had reason to be here? Did they not know anything aside from their frills and thrills of romance and fantasy? "What I do?
My
A
wakener?”
Samanthŕa
raised a brow.

             
“
Dǒntáe
,
Samanthŕa
.”
Dezarãe
giggled. “See how blind you are
?
An
d yet you wish to sit there and give us advice on something you have chosen to avoid
!
” She looked at her other sisters.

             
“It is not Dǒntáe,”
Morrgãyne
argued. “It is St
a
phãyn. Why else would the two of them be as close as they are
?
”

             
“
What
?” Samanthŕa’s horse came to a stop.

             
"Oh Morrgãyne," Dezarãe rolled her eyes. "It is clearly Dǒntáe.  He can barely control the beast within when Samanth
ŕa is near. He placed his life before hers when we were atta
cked by the Nosophoros. He even challenged the Father of the Blood. It is clearly Dǒntáe."

             
"You are wrong."
Morrgãyne
grinned and shook her finger. "
Staphãyn
and Samanthŕa have always been thick as thieves. If he would simply sober up, you would see his l
ust as strongly as you
think
you see Dǒntáe's."

             
"Are you both mad?" Samanthŕa's horse bucked a little. Was this a bad dream?

             
“
Oh l
eave her be. I wish to see
M
ãi
ŕyk
.” Jezaŕah exclaimed. “Time will tell who is right concerning Samanthŕa and her destined wa
rrior.
Now be silent so we may find the Brothers'
Realm
.
”

             
They all turned and started back up the trail.
Samanthŕa
was speechless. They weren’t making any sense to her. She tried every point she could think of as they rode to the Great Falls. Like a loyal and concerned sister, she followed them, even though it was clear that they thought she had no business here. Despite her worries for
St
a
phãyn
or Daŕ
ēus
, she could not let them go alone. To her, they were her responsibility; after
all,
she
’d
triggered the signs of their
A
wakening
,
ha
dn’t she?

             
Still the nonsense they spoke of concerning Dǒntáe and St
a
phãyn
puzzl
ed her. Why were they speaking in such tongues?
Why were they carrying on as if all in TEŔAH was right and merry?

             
She rode behind them
in turmoil
. She envied
them
their freedom, their ability to give in
to their desires and dreams. T
hey could go t
o those who called to them from their dreams, to
A
waken even if it was not by the hands of their proper
A
wakeners.

             
She
had
chose
n
that time to remind them of the harm that could come to them if the Brothers were
not
their destined
A
wakeners. Still, they refused to listen. In fact, they spent most of the time ignoring her. She
started to
wonder if she was a ghost
, i
f they could see or hear her at all
,
so she stopped talking
.
She was still floored by the
mention of
Dǒntáe and St
a
phãyn
,
even though it made her want to laugh in some twisted sort of madness
. Why in the world would they think that? It astounded her
--
or did it?

             
The forest was thick with snow and silence. It reminded her of her soul
,
which was broken
,
and her
hunger, which
drove her mad inside, her emptiness
,
and her weakness from the herbs. It was as if she were going through the motions of a lifeless zombie. Sadness was the only emotion
, though
her heart continued to beat. Nothing but emptiness vibrated from her aura. It shook her even more
that
her sisters did not even sense it. Usually they could sense
Samanthŕa’s
moods a mile away
,
yet they rode ahead of her unaware. They seemed to
form
their own circle.
Samanthŕa
was not a
part of it.

             
The forest behind the Great Fall
s
opened
out
just below the mountains which gave birth to
Daŕ
ēus’
realm
. His castle
seemed to reflect winter like the mountain
ous
realm
of Wintŕa
. It was dark and
comfortably
rustic
. It was hard to tell which was mountain and which was castle. 
             
Lucēan
was the one who greeted them
from the four story tall-carved doors
.
He wasn’t even wearing a cloak to protect him from the cold. She and her sisters had claimed powers and still struggled with the temperatures underneath their heavy garments
,
but he stood there on h
is stirrups
wearing nothing more
than
dull leather pants,
boots,
and a thin shirt.
Sameŕald
seemed to breathe for the very first time when she s
aw
him.
When snow began to fall, Samanthŕa doubted she even noticed. All she could see was
him
. . . .