Bound by Blood: The Sacrifice

By C.H. Scarlett

Book II of the Bound by Blood Series....

Secrets are unveiled.
A Gathering is called.
Sides are chosen.
Legions are raised.
A challenge is made.
Evil has reared its ugly head. The true enemy has been named.
Who will save or destroy TERAH?

Once Samanthra takes her true & rightful place among the sacred bloodlines, she soon understands and realizes the sacrifices that must be made in order to save TERAH from its unholy threat.

Or does she?

As a darker and more deadly prophecy unleashes itself, as more pieces of the puzzle come together, as even more unforeseen riddles unwind, one thing becomes all too clear . . .
Bound is she by the ancient blood, and by that blood, someone and something, must be sacrificed!

But who, what and at what cost?
Remember, things are never what they seem to be . . .
Not even the Priestess.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.H. Scarlett
• Release date: Dec 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310310263

C.H. Scarlett

C.H. Scarlett is a pseudonym of Casey Harris. C.H. Scarlett writes Paranormal and Fantasy Fiction.When she isn’t dreaming up her manuscripts, she is usually writing articles or researching her favorite subjects. Her blog usually reflects the interests that continuously haunts her : Paranormal, Other Worlds, Metaphysics, Occult, Ancient Religions & Cultures, History, Gardening, and Herbs. She also has a deep passion for Photography, Photo Manipulation &enhancement, Photo-shop, Art.

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BOUND by BLOOD

Book II

THE SACRIFICE

By C.H. SCARLETT

Bound by Blood: The Sacrifice ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright 2009/2013 L. Harris -Casey Harris - C.H. SCARLETT

Published by SMASHWORDS

Cover Art by Casey Harris

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

C.H. SCARLETT/CASEY HARRIS 2001/2009/ 2013

Dedication

Crystal, forever my Dezarãe. . .

Sister,

Now that your visions be still,

May you find your way home.

Wherever home may be,

Please, save a place for me.

~

Janice, who inspires The Crone.

~

My husband & children ~ just because.

~

The Fans of BBB ~ thank you for breathing life into these pages.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1: Birthright

Chapter 2: Blood's Stone

Chapter 3: Web of the Widows

Chapter 4: Chymeŕah's Kiss

Chapter 5: Madness

Chapter 6: Regret

Chapter 7: Vyvëáņ

Chapter 8: The Gathering

Chapter 9: Revelations

Chapter 10: Sacrifice

Chapter 11: The Sanctuary

Chapter 12: What Once Was

Chapter 13: When the Hunter Becomes the Prey

Chapter 14: The Realm of Chrystalis

Chapter 15: NORSŔAH

Chapter 16: Made in his Image

Chapter 17: The Ego of Self Proclaimed Gods

Chapter 18: My Beautiful Beast

Chapter 19: Gift of the Flesh

Chapter 20: The Stone

Chapter 21: Kaléé's Gift

Chapter 22: How the Gods Kill

Chapter 23: The Face of Evil

Chapter 24: Stay with Me

Chapter 25: And So You Shall

Epilogue

Glossary

Bound by Blood Titles

Dear Reader & 2013/2014 Releases

Author Bio

Website

Prologue

Somewhere between worlds . . .

Time: Somewhere in the unknown, yet very far future

Stop this, Crone! Stop! The young girl watching the visions displayed by the crystals, cried out.

She had watched this from the very beginning, starting with the night of Beal-Tene when the Priestess had dreamed of Daŕēus and then awoke and all the pages unfolding to her Awakening and now, the evil and shapeless thing released from it. She trembled, tears in her eyes, having felt, and experienced everything they had watched. She could take no more.

What is it, child. What makes you stop? The Crone balanced herself on her staff, waving a hand, causing the visions into the past to stop.

I am sorry. I thought I was ready but the emotions are too great. I need a moment. I need a moment to accept all I have seen for it seems so hopeless! She pulled her cloak even tighter, falling to the floor, exhausted. Why did I have to watch this? Why did you not tell me you were there? Why couldn't you simply tell me what happened?

Of course I was there and because I was there, I must be here, showing you the way.

How old are you, then?

Sometimes numbers become too large to keep up with. Kaléé, the Crone, sighed.

Then why not simply tell me what happened? Why make me feel and live as though they did?

It would not have been the same. You would not have felt the connection to those who paved your future. You cannot grasp your birthright if you cannot appreciate what those who came before you sacrificed just so you could have one. The Crone moved slowly around the room. Her fingers hovered above the crystals as if she were speaking to them with her mind.

So these are my ancestors . . . and I . . . I am something like a Vii?

Is that what you feel?

I don't know what I feel! I don't even know who I am anymore! I don't even know how I came to be here! Why must I go through this, when they did not?

You through this because of a promise I made, one you shall soon witness, if you continue to watch and you must continue to watch, child.

The Priestess made you promise?

We must watch and see.

Why? It seems so hopeless!

Why do you say that? You are here. I am here. Surely something came from all of this.

Because there was a curse. Daŕēus Awakened her and something . . . something horrible was released! Now more Evil has been let lose upon that world and . . . and . . . and so many destroyed . . . and--

And it is not the end so one cannot say it was hopeless or not. And you and I are here . . . so something came from all of this! But how will you know if you are not brave enough to watch? How you think your little tears be more important than all that your ancestors sacrificed? Spoiled little Vii! The Crone raised her staff causing the young one to feel so very guilty.

You are right. I must know what happens next. I must know what becomes of the Priestess, of her sisters, of this world TEŔAH, I may never know. I must know why you are now here, the only one, and why I am blessed enough to watch this. Why things are no longer like that, we are no longer like them . . . or are we?

Are we? Kaléé's grin stretched into something wide. We must watch.

Please continue, Kaléé, Vlachŕa of the Lycãons, and let me know my birthright.

Those are the words, child, I wish to hear! And the Crone waved her staff before the crystals, so that part two of the story would begin . . . .

And so it did. And so it did.

Chapter 1

Birthright

*

Rise now, child lost to the darkened glade,

Through cesspools of memory and unmarked graves.

Claim now, the essence of a forgotten way.

For these are the birthrights our Gods have made.

And these are the paths your deeds have laid.

Rise!

*

It took three nights for a Vii to awaken. It took three feedings of essence from her Awakener to prepare her and trigger the journey she'd take.

Normally, to become fully prepared, a Vii would undergo seven major rituals the year before her time of Awakening approached. She would receive small amounts of essence from the Elders, mixed with wine or some other substances, so that the struggle of the beast within was not so brutal come the time of their destined merging. The strength and magic of her people would gently fuel her with the strength she'd need. Normally.

Samanthŕa was denied this. She was not prepared. What she faced now, she would face alone.

After her Awakener sealed her fate in stone, during the coming three nights, her body would shut down as if it were dead. Her bones would reconstruct themselves into something more . . . changeable. Two very different halves of her soul--her beast and her Awakener-- would merge a trinity into becoming one with her own.

But again, during this time, this three - night - stretch, her body would go through a complete metamorphosis. She would be in stasis. She would merge with the soul of her Awakener. His power would move through her, as hers would through his.

In the end, if she survived, on the third night, her lungs would take in air again for the first time. Her heart would beat a different drum. Her eyes would open and she would be reborn. Her purpose and prophecy would fulfill her, her destiny would be invoked. The world would be a new place. Her beast would be alive and well, seeing through her eyes, moving through her actions.

In theory, this journey should have been natural and safe. Normally, it was not as treacherous, for a Vii was prepared. She was delivered safely into the arms and blood of her Awakener.

But again, unfortunately, Samanthŕa was denied all of this. What she faced now, she would face alone.

Daŕēus saw to it that Samanthŕa was placed somewhere safe until the end of the three nights. He wished no interference nor unforeseen dangers. Since she was not prepared and so much power had affected her well-being and her memories already, he feared for her. He wanted nothing else, no one else, harming her or making it worse. He was crippled inside, knowing he was powerless . . . so very powerless. He could not save her, nor could he save what would become of TEŔAH. For not only would Samanthŕa change, but so would the face of the Realms.

In the three nights that Samanthŕa was in stases, Evil was raised from the darkest of pits, having sensed the Priestess’s condition. If she survived, the balance of power would be changed, causing Evil to fear and react to those fears.

When a rabid beast was backed into a corner, it attacked. It attached at everything--friend or foe. So Evil's half-breeds flooded the Realms bringing chaos with them. Phãegens fled to sacred lands, hiding, once the moons rose, for blood would undoubtedly spill. All creatures, beautiful or hideous, waited anxiously---would the Priestess open her eyes and with her full strength and power? And if she did, how powerful would she be? How powerful would Daŕēus be or the bloodlines?

During this time, during Evil's attacks, the sacred families were also in turmoil. Dĩas returned to his stronghold with an even greater hatred towards Daŕēus. Once he realized Samanthŕa had taken her Awakening, his hatred turned lethal. He demanded the allegiance of the Lycãons, then when they refused, Dĩas renounced their name and blood since they pledged their loyalties to Daŕēus instead.

The other Strygĩ families were disillusioned, their minds poisoned against the Father of the Blood. Confusion became a plague festering away at their minds.

Dĩas even tried to revoke Samanthŕa’s title of High Priestess by using the tainted power of the throne, but he and his Elders failed. Daŕēus had been clever and even though he did not sit on the throne - which governed the families as Father of the Blood - he still held dominion over the High Priestess of his bloodlines. He had claimed her when she was High Priestess, and High Priestess she would forever stay.

They’d renewed their bonds now and she was under his protection. To take from her would be taking from him, and taking from him was a fool’s desire.

Still, pacing the floors for the longest three nights of his existence, Daŕēus accepted what his mind had been avoiding since his return to the Realms. Solving one problem only vomited forth more. He knew he'd have to kill Dĩas to take back his throne, even if it was against the old ways to do such a thing.

To kill true Evil was no crime at all, but to kill one of your own blood when their hearts still beat with light, no matter how small the quantity, was forbidden.

These were his laws, Daŕēus reflected, and laws he believed in. Still, now, Dĩas left him little choice. The throne was feeding Evil too much power because the Dark Matter had changed Dĩas. The throne was hurting the families rather than protecting them. Something had to be done and soon.

In the end, he wondered what kind of world would Samanthŕa be Awakening to. This also had him worried.

Think positive, he reminded himself. Samanthŕa would say so. She would point out what good came from so much horror. Wouldn't she? Yes, she would!

All Hadãe broke lose during the three nights, but some good was coming from it. Theŕéans who had escaped the mysterious attack on their home began to recollect in more detail what had happened to make them do so. Even their warriors began to tell a more complete story after they had time to calm down and accept what did occur.

According to them, the warriors were drawn away because of some disturbance felt in the jungles of their Realm. A power, which seemed tainted, off, brought harm to the wildlife and natural environment there. Once they went to investigate, they found the terrain being stained by some black, shadowy poison spewing up from a crevice blown from the interior of the soils. They tried to contact outside help with their minds or to warn their bloodline, but the channels were blocked, much the same way it had been for Samanthŕa and the Lycãons on the night of Beal-Tene.

Overhead, Thorn Theŕéan claimed, a massive storm brewed, with thick suffocating clouds whirling at relentless and surreal speeds that dipped down and consumed everything below. An unnatural cold swelled up around them and then forces of black transparent shapes attacked.

The warriors attempted to fight but their blades proved useless. They shifted into their beasts but their strong jaws and claws were also futile. Those who escaped did so by the skin of their teeth. The same happened at their dwelling.

So what was the source behind this new threat?

The Dark Matter, of course, but still, something or someone had to be fueling it. Daŕēus struggled for these answers. Who was powerful enough to invoke what could not be easily withstood by the Blood? Who had power enough to bring forth pure Dark Matter? What could bring such poison forth?

On another note, a more positive one brought about by all this chaos, some Strygĩ were butting heads against Dĩas’s stubborn rule and new loyalties. They, too, were scattering into the night, seeking out those they could be loyal to. They didn’t know enough about the Father of the Blood to trust him, so they remained basically lost, wandering, hiding.

Daŕēus silently cursed Dĩas for the millionth time since his return. If only Dĩas had kept faith in Daŕēus and not cursed him to the Sleep of the Damned, none of this would be as it was now.

Finally losing all disposition, he growled and slammed his fist against the arm of a chair. The flames within a nearby hearth jolted and burst from Daŕēus’s energy. They relaxed to their normal glow once the Father of the Blood contained his mood. And now, it seemed he had company.

Sąxaŋ Theŕéan, who had been exiled and believed dead since a year after Dĩas’s betrayal of Daŕēus, stood before the Father of the Blood in his realm. He had journeyed across the seas and numerous realms once word had reached his new people, the NORSŔAH, that the prophecy had come to pass, and Daŕēus had returned. He came now to speak for them, the NORSŔAH, as he had been speaking for them for some time now with Syŕos Vrãe, the Phãegen Tavern owner.

Having been welcomed, he peeled off the many layers of bear skins, finding spring had crossed the gentle face of the more southern land. Daŕēus thought the coldness of the NORSŔAH Realm, Chrystalis, still lingered in the exiled warrior's hardened eyes. He even smelt of frosty ice.

Sąxaŋ pulled back his red hair adorned with tassels, and then drank the hot brew made from mead offered to him. A scar across his left cheek extending over his eye to his forehead and neck was a visual reminder of his simmering hate -- the fate wished upon him by Dĩas and those who obeyed him.

It is good to see you, Sąxaŋ. Daŕēus threw some more wood on the fire, as if feeling the chill of Sąxaŋ’s adoptive home clinging to his large bones, gave him the urge to thaw him out.

Are you surprised? Sąxaŋ said in a low jagged voice. He sat on a chair by the fire. His eyes grew darker and his face harder. Surprised that Dĩas, the vermin filthy fool that he is, failed at my demise?"

There is very little which surprises me, Daŕēus, answered as he sat across from him. His gestures were calm and non-threatening. He felt Samanthŕa’s thoughts stir inside his mind. He kept a constant connection to her. The feeling faded into the dusk of her condition. So he focused again on his guest.

I remember that about you. Ya were never one who was ever surprised. Sąxaŋ recalled, laughing. Even the cursed night, betrayed by Dĩas and his wretched conspirators, not even then do I remember you being surprised.

That seems like an eternity ago. It did now, didn't it?

I often wondered if you knew they plotted against you, or what they intended. Sąxaŋ looked at him suspiciously.

None of us can know absolutely everything. Daŕēus raised a brow and then changed the subject. He was in no mood to discuss bitter times, especially when those moments had cost him so much. So what brings Sąxaŋ into the light? Come to get your revenge on Dĩas? Or do you come to bring a message from the NORSŔAH Realm to me?

Ah, Sąxaŋ nodded. The NORSŔAH have much to say.

I am sure you realize that Dĩas blame them along with the Phãegens for the misdeeds done against the Theŕéan bloodline. I am sure you heard of the attack. He wandered when the NORSŔAH would send forth a messenger. Daŕēus had been receiving messages from many Realms since his return. Various immortals of all different breeds and species were offering their aid.

In fact, the first night Samanthŕa came to his realm, the ones she saw leaving were those bringing various messages. Everything breathing in TEŔAH had something to say.

There were those who spoke for the Elemental realms where the Drągýn Gods, Sephŕel, Fãeŕé, and other creatures of the elements lived. There were those from the Southern, Western and Eastern regions--various names and species that had yet to be discovered by anyone other than the Goddess who created them.

So, why are you here, Sąxaŋ? Daŕēus hated beating around the bush. NORSŔAH, revenge or both?

Aye, Sąxaŋ admitted. Both.

Then let us get the NORSŔAH out of the way. Shall we?

Aye, Sąxaŋ nodded, gulping down his drink. The NORSŔAH will not stand against you concerning Dĩas’s legions. They will not stand with you either. They will allow their children, the Phãegen, though fragile, to fight by your side if a fight is needed. The NORSŔAH will not try to stop them.

Would the Phãegens even obey, if their master race did?

Between you and I, probably not, but the NORSŔAH are a conceded race. They like to believe they have such power even in these weary times. Regardless, they have seen this coming for some time now. The signs are clear and more plainly read in that Realm.

How are things there, sealed away from the rest of TEŔAH?

Chrystalis has yet to be affected by the Dark Matter. For how long it will remain that way, we are unclear.

Yes; well I suppose cutting themselves off from the rest of the Realms has served its purpose after all. Daŕēus reflected back to when the NORSŔAH turned their backs on the other Realms, right before Dĩas imprisoned him. He was angry then, at their choice, for he could have used their strength. And Daŕēus sometimes wondered: if they had not turned away, would it all have turned out differently? Would he have been imprisoned? Would the Realms be in the state that they were in now?

I did not expect them to fight with us, as I have no expectations now. Daŕēus admitted aloud. It would have helped, though.

Perhaps it helps knowing that they will not stand against you either. Sąxaŋ said. They became sick of war a long time ago. They felt it did no good. Once the Dark Matter showed its face, well, maybe they lost hope. Maybe they are biding their time? I really cannot say. I shall keep speaking to them, though, Sąxaŋ swore.

If it brings you comfort. He no longer cared.

How many stand against you now? Do ya know?

Dĩas’s legions-- Daŕēus shook his head slowly and grinned. His attention drifted towards the fire. Dĩas’s legions are nothing compared to my warriors.

Aye. No doubt. His legions consist of what?

Evil spawned from sanies blood, who are cursed to suffer countless banes. A few Strygĩ, who are obviously confused and still under Dĩas's power. No, Daŕēus shook his head again, grabbed the jug of mead, and refilled Sąxaŋ’s cup, leaning forward slightly. If I know Dĩas then he will wish to kill two birds with one stone. He will allow Evil to battle me while he hides behind the throne in hopes that Evil will take me out before I make my way to him.

That be, Dĩas, Sąxaŋ grunted. What shall I tell the NORSŔAH concerning your strength, then?

Why tell them anything? Daŕēus grinned again but decided to do his duty and be civil. Tell them the Queen of all the Realms is about to Awaken. Tell them I do not stand alone.

The Priestess? Bloody Hadãe! Sometimes I forget how much I am in the dark while living in Chrystalis. And I came straight here having no time for Taverns and rumors. Sąxaŋ admitted. How did ya manage that one? I would have thought Dĩas slit her throat by now. Sąxaŋ’s voice began to crack.

Daŕēus growled low as if it was not a comment but some form of threat. He knew it was not a threat; still, the thought of someone harming her brought his beast to rise. Forget not who she is, brother, nor who I am. Forget not who she is to me. His voice was only slightly raised but the warning and emotion were there, hard, coarse, and convincing.

I only meant… Sąxaŋ started to explain.

Daŕēus raised a hand to stop him. His voice returned to its normal calm. It’s not you, Sąxaŋ. Not you. he admitted. Tell the NORSŔAH, I have her, and she is Awakening. Tell them there will be a gathering soon of blood and creature. Tell them that they shall receive a sign as to where. Tell anyone else who is Phãegen and or loyal to the blood, my blood. I want word spread throughout all the Realms. If NORSŔAH choose to come, so be it. If they do not, so be it. Either way I shall take down my enemies and restore TEŔAH back to her many lights.

It shall be done. Sąxaŋ rose and so did Daŕēus. He threw his shoulders and chest against the side of Daŕēus and patted him on the back. It is good to have you back. I have waited so long, he admitted. His eyes softened for a moment, but then returned to their coldness. I’ve only one more thing to ask before I leave.

Yes?

The Theŕéans -- am I the last? I attempted to find out before I came but when we look into your Realms with the NORSŔAH crystals, it is unclear. I think this has something to do with the Dark Matter.

Nay, you are not the last of your bloodline. Daŕēus told him. Some have been taken by Dĩas and their memories changed as we speak. But others are escaping, and many are taking refuge in Chymeŕah’s Realm. The Lycãons are scouting the lands, trying to lead as many as they can to safe borders.

With my help, brother, Sąxaŋ sighed with huge relief and then told him, we shall undo these wrongs which have been done. He looked a bit unfocused, as though there was something else on his mind that he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Daŕēus read him like a book. It was easy to do this when bonds of blood were untainted by disloyalty and betrayal. The ones you worry for . . . they do not remember you. Daŕēus answered what he did not ask.

Sąxaŋ nodded. My heart is broken even more than it has been all these many years.

He was tormented. His expression and energy were as open as a book, though he left without another word, cursing himself.

Daŕēus knew Sąxaŋ had made choices, which resulted in his absence or exile. Long ago, the warrior within kept his feelings hardened as he’d struggled against Dĩas’s rule. Finally, he chose to speak out even though he knew the risk was exile. In Sąxaŋ's mind, someone had to speak against Dĩas especially after he entrapped Daŕēus and the Brothers to the Sleep of the Damned. Still, he never once realized the hardship that would fall on his children or his mate by doing so. Daŕēus was sure those things haunted him as Sąxaŋ disappeared down the stone halls of the castle.

***

It’s time. A voice called to Samanthŕa’s mind from beyond the mists.

Daŕēus? Was she dreaming again? She looked down at herself. Was she dead? Her hands smoothed the long sheer robe she wore. It was white and crisp, yet its edges were blending into the mists that were rolling in around her bare feet. She heard the voice again.

Focus, Silly Vii, focus.

Staphãyn?!

I said, focus! I haven’t all night, you know. As always, your mind is so very muddled with a little of this and a little of that. A light chuckle echoed about her.

Staphãyn? Where are you? Samanthŕa spun around quickly. Her eyes grew wide, her expression excited. Her heart nearly burst as she saw him leave the mists and join her. He took her hands while she looked him over. He seemed to glow and the pain which once haunted his eyes was nonexistent. His robes seemed to match hers, except his were fashioned for a man, a warrior, someone of great importance. And he was important, to her.

It’s time to give your mind to me, sister.

Oh no. Am I dead? Did I not survive the Awakening?

Calm now. Give your mind to me. I must bring your journey to a close.

Because I am dead? I failed.

No. Your beast has merged. Your body has survived the change, as I knew it would. Now your mind and thoughts must follow. Give your mind to me, for the shift into the outer universe is difficult for ones who are experiencing it for the first time. Close your eyes.

Samanthŕa smiled, relieved, ready. She closed her eyes, but for only a moment. She heard sounds now, an ocean crashing, a universe stirring and life itself yawning. She looked, to find that an ancient world had revealed itself from behind the mist universe.

She stepped closer, feeling Staphãyn move behind her. A large opening, like a window, reflected a world outside the mist and then a temple, old as the world itself, spawned forth from a star-studded blanket of the beyond.

Its floors were smooth and glistening white. Twenty-four thrones, all of the same soft, sleek stone-- formed a large circle and inside that circle, a large fire burned with colors of blue, red, gray, pink, white.

The thrones shifted and from their seats arose lifelike statues of twelve men and twelve women. The women were toned and graceful, draped in long, flowing robes. The men were muscular, clad in long kilts and gleaming armor. Then behind them, two bigger statues arose, carved from the same stone, attached as if one, of a man and woman, larger than the rest and larger than life.

This is the God and Great Mother, and those below them are the gods and goddesses, Staphãyn whispered in her ear. They have no form such as ours but when channeled, in this place of ancient descent, these statues were used, for they are not bound by our Universe or the clay and matter of it, or that of any Universe we will ever know.

The fires burst from the pit and the layer of stone melted, revealing true form, transparent images of spirit. The beings’ eyes became aglow with the many colors of the fire and their voices were as sweet as song.

It was song, she thought, for they did not speak in words. Samanthŕa nearly fainted-- for she could understand them.

She saw Chymeŕah and Dĩas. She saw Daŕēus standing within the circle. Light glowed from their eyes. Trails of light encircled them and the