Amirae's Moon Spirit: Moon Spirit Series, #1

By Christina Smith Belcher

Growing up outside of Stellamaris, a small village spellbound and controlled by a demon blood goddess, Amirae is traumatized and left an orphan by her mother’s gruesome death. Blood, sacrifices, and rumors of an eighteen-year-old boy trained in the dark arts of magic and the worship of Pirila, haunt her dreams at night. Her path crosses with a wandering elf, banished from his homeland, which becomes her only friend and companion. Desperate and determined to free Stellamaris from the clutches of evil, they venture forward to seek help from the priestesses of the Lady Moon in Arwen Ithil. Amirae discovers her dormant power of the moon and the prophecy of her destined fate to save the village from Pirila’s deathly grasp. Will they succeed in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina Smith Belcher
• Release date: Sep 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781492312093

Christina Smith Belcher

Reach for the moon, because even if you miss, you will be among Stars!!!41 year-old mom of two beautiful girls that are 22 and 19 and now understanding what my parents went through when I was that age. So proud of my oldest who is now raising a child of her own and very proud of my youngest because I know she will make the right decisions and choices in life and I will be there to guide her.My passion for reading and writing is the fuel that gets me through the hard times of life. I enjoy creating characters that have been where we have been, through the ugly events of life as well as the happy ones. "Amirae's Moon Spirit" was my first attempt at writing and was also my learning tool. Amirae will always have that special place in my heart. 

Book preview

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Prologue

A stone altar stood in front of a blazing bonfire that crackled and spit flames high towards the night sky with a full moon shining above.  Stars twinkled like diamond eyes watching and observing what was taking place below on Earth.

Several men hooded in red robes arrived into the clearing and circled around the altar.  They walked in unison slowly, their hands clasped together under long sleeves in front of them.  Slowly they made a complete circle around the altar and the fire, before they finally stopped and waited.

Several more men walked through the center of the circle towards the altar.  These particular men wore black robes instead of the crimson red of the lower level priests.  The black-robed priests pulled a young maiden forward with them.  Her hands were chained together in front of the sheer white gown covering her otherwise naked body.  Although chained, she still struggled against their hands gripping her upper arms.  In her struggles, she tripped from the chains that looped around her ankles and bare feet.

Roughly, the priests lifted her back up and pushed her towards the stone altar.  She looked up at the altar and the fire as she walked forward.  Glancing around, she noticed all the priests in red robes circling the altar.

Fear gripped and twisted her stomach.  Her limbs began to shake as she felt the tears stream down her cheeks.  She grimaced and gasped when the black-robed priests pushed her against the altar.  Roughly scraping her right knee, she climbed onto the cold, hard stone.  She prayed silently for her Lady Moon to stop the ritual about to take place, since the priests stripped her powers away.  She didn’t know if it was a spell cast on her or a spell cast on the chains that bound her.

She cried more silent tears as the priests pushed her down on the altar, flat on her back.  Gazing up at the moon, she pushed her emotions and inner energy towards the sky, hoping the Goddess would send someone to save her.  A single priest appeared above her holding a curved dagger in both his hands.  Averting her gaze past the dagger into his hooded face, she hoped to see his true identity before her oncoming death.

The priest chanted in a demon language, long ago extinct and only recorded in old scrolls.  She recognized the language for she studied the scrolls as only high priestesses were allowed.  The scrolls were missing and now their suspicions were correct that these dark priests stole them.

He raised the dagger high into the air as he continued to chant.  A strong gust of wind blew through the circle, wrapping her in its icy grip, and blowing the priest’s hood back from his face.

She gasped as she realized the identity of the man about to take her life, a man who served the sisterhood without complaint.  Looking down at her and seeing her surprise, he drove the dagger down and plunged it deep within her chest, piercing through her heart.  She arched her body and cried out to her Goddess as tears, as well as her blood flowed from her body.

The priest stood back away from the altar while he continued to chant.  The gush of wind increased and blew stronger, whipping the priest’s robes in all directions around him.

Struggling to stand in the wind, he continued his chants while he glared at the fire on the other side of the dying priestess as she lay still on the altar, her blood seeping from her chest and spilling over the sides of the stone.

Flames in the fire roared higher and began to change from a bright orange to a dark red in color.  The priest paused for a moment in his chanting, surprised the ritual was working this time.  As soon as he paused, the dark red color in the flames began to dissipate.  He snapped back to attention and focused on the chants once again.

Soon the flames were vibrant red and the center of the flames pulled apart like a curtain, revealing a black void.  Excitement boiled within the priest urging him to increase the speed of his chants. 

A dark figure began to emerge from within the void, pulling itself from the flames, framed around the outside of the void.  The priest watched, still chanting, as he heard the priests behind him gasp.  Some of them were probably afraid now, believing him to be senile and that the ritual would be like all the rest, complete failures and conjuring nothing but a few sparks from the fire.

He smiled knowing that they trembled behind him as they developed a new respect for him and his dark magic.

Finally, the figure emerged fully from the void and slowly glided to the stone altar.  Dark shadowy arms reached toward the altar and the priestess.  When the tips of the shadow’s claws touched the skin of the priestess, the blood pooling from her chest, disappeared into the black figure.  The blood dripping down the sides of the altar reversed its gravitational pull and moved upwards, slowly disappearing into the figure’s arms.  When all the blood had disappeared, the figure slumped over on top of the priestess’ body.

The chanting ceased and the wind died down, as did the flames from the fire.  The priest rushed over to the altar to assist the evil Goddess he conjured.  When he reached for her, he was thrown back onto the ground from an explosion that brightened up the night sky, blinding the other priests and knocking them back a few feet.

Slowly recovering from the impact of hitting the ground, he sat up and immediately glanced towards the altar.  The priestess’ body disappeared and standing there in front of the altar, stood a female demon.  Her long fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders and flowed behind her, trailing at her bare feet.

She stood before him without a stitch of clothing to cover her orange tinted skin.  Silver scales traced down her curves sliding along the underside of her breasts before trailing down her slim abdomen and around her thighs.

He must have made a noise when he sighed, because she suddenly turned her yellow cat-like eyes towards him.  Sensing the fear in the foolish priest, the demon grinned, revealing long fangs that protruded from her full lips.

Chapter One

She skipped along the edge of the forest and the clearing, happily singing as her mother picked flowers and herbs from the garden.  Her auburn curls danced behind her before falling to rest against her small back.  Occasionally she looked up and grinned at her mother, a beautiful slim woman with long black hair that was pulled back behind her head and tied with a scrap of fabric.  Her mother raised her eyebrows and looked at Amirae.  Her dark brown eyes twinkled when she smiled and waved at her.

Amirae hoped her mother would soon quit watching her so she could sneak away to go exploring. Her mother didn’t like her to wander off too far.  She pretended to pull and pick wild daisies growing along the forest edge, waiting for her mother to look the other way.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother turn her back.  She nearly jumped head first into the opportunity to escape, but just as she stood up, her mother’s stern voice ceased her movement.

Amirae! Her mother scolded while pointing a finger at her.  Amirae stared down at her own feet next to the pile of daisies she dropped, afraid to look at her mother.

I have told you before, the spell might not hold and keep us safe if you go too far. her mother explained as her voice softened.

Amirae squatted down and scooped up the daisies.  She ran to her mother and handed her the lop-sided bouquet.

I am sorry Mama, she said innocently grinning up at her mother.  Accepting the flowers, she pulled Amirae against her in a tight hug.  Amirae snuggled in her mother’s arms, inhaling her sweet flowery scent.

Her mother was afraid of the nearby village and was strict on keeping them safe from unwelcome visitors.  She was too young to understand why her mother was so afraid.  Amirae enjoyed going to the village to pick up supplies at the market.  She had a grand time seeing the silly people trying to do magic tricks or sell weird and unusual objects.  Her absolute favorite was the man with the monkey.  He would play an accordion while the monkey danced in his little red vest and cap.  It would twirl around the circle of people and do little tricks.  After his stunning performance, he would hold out his tiny little hand to collect coins from the villagers that watched. She would laugh and giggle when a few of the villagers would drop a few coins in the grasp of his little furry palm and fingers. 

Always while there, Amirae would close her eyes and feel the breeze play with her hair.  The sea salt would tickle her nose while it danced on the wind.

Sometimes she would get a chance to climb atop a parked wagon that rested against the eastern wall.  She would stand on her toes and reach as far as her little arms could stretch.  All this effort she performed just to catch a glimpse of the waves crashing against the cliff rocks below.  Unfortunately, the wagon never helped or gave her enough height.  So instead, she would lean against the wall to hear the waves and then if she closed her eyes again, she could see them crashing in her mind.

During one of their visits, they came across an elderly woman selling vegetables and trinkets.  They were placed on the old woman’s table, side by side, the bright fresh vegetables on the left side and the small trinkets on the right side.  Both of the items lay on top of a rich black piece of cloth.  The colors of the produce and the shiny silver of the trinkets stood out against the black cloth.  The contrast helped to draw the attention of would-be buyers to her table.  Amirae pulled her mother’s hand while she dragged her to the table to look at the items. 

No, Amirae, we don’t have time.  She wanted to get what they needed quickly and leave in haste.  Amirae looked up at her mother and pouted her bottom lip out while she batted her long dark eyelashes, silently pleading with her mother.

Sighing in defeat, Lilliethema glanced over at the items on the table and then glanced up at the old lady.  The old lady just grinned with dark twinkling eyes before she picked up a small beaded bracelet that was the color of summer grass.  She stretched her hand out across the table handing the bracelet to Amirae.  Amirae’s eyes lit up and her little hands gently took the bracelet from the old lady.

Lilliethema started to shake her head in protest,

Oh no.  We can’t...we don’t have the money...we need to buy food to take back with us.

Amirae darted her head up, already a rebellion etched across her small face.  The old lady smiled at Amirae and then glanced back at Lilliethema, giving her a wink,

A gift for the beautiful child. she stated in a hoarse voice. 

Amirae squealed in delight and slipped the bracelet over her wrist.  She raised her arm up and turned it from side to side, admiring the sun glinting off the beads.

Lilliethema couldn’t suppress her smile at seeing her daughter’s happiness over a small trinket.  Especially in these hard times when there wasn’t a lot for the children to be excited about.

Deciding to skip out on buying more vegetables, she dug in her pockets for a coin to give the old woman.  Just as she found a coin and started to pull it out, the old woman gently grabbed her forearm.  Lilliethema glanced up when she felt a magnetic pull, a familiar sensation spread through her limb, when the elderly woman touched her skin.

No, it is a gift, I require no payment. She looked back at Amirae dancing in a circle while holding her arm up,

Her smile and happiness is more than enough payment.

Impressed with the kindness of the old woman, she patted her softly wrinkled hand on her arm, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar.

Thank you so much for your kindness. she said, still feeling the desire to pay for the trinket.  The old woman slowly pulled her hand away as she glanced back up at Lilliethema.

You are welcome, Lillie. she whispered as she moved to the other end of the table to assist another customer.  Lilliethema started to ask the old woman how she knew her name, when Amirae held arm outstretched towards her.

Look Mama!  Isn’t it pretty?  Lilliethema mentally frowned as she looked down at Amirae who grinned, waiting for her to compliment her trinket.  She softly smiled at Amirae.

It makes you look so pretty sweetie.  Come on...lets go finish our shopping. 

The two finished the rest of their shopping quickly, the entire time Lilliethema kept looking over her shoulder.  When a group of guards passed by the crowd at the market, Lilliethema grabbed Amirae’s hand and urgently pulled her towards the gate where they left the horse, Romey.  Amirae wanted to stay and watch the uniformed men in the black and red attire, as they marched down the cobbled streets.

Amirae, come on!  We have to leave now.  We have everything that we need. she scolded quickly.

Amirae started to open her mouth, but before she could say anything, her mother glared down at her with her mouth in a tight grim line.  She shut her mouth deciding not to argue with her mother when she made that face.

Priests of a very violent and dark cult ran the village.  Every year they held a lottery to choose which unfortunate child of the village would be offered up for sacrifice to feed Pirila, the Blood Goddess.  They forced the villagers to follow their path and to worship their gods.  Otherwise, they would suffer severe torture and possibly death.  Villagers that were converted were automatically enrolled in this lottery if they had children under the age of five years.

The priests would not allow outside religions to reside in their village nor did they welcome any magic, for fear any other religions or magic could be used against the hypnotizing spells they performed on the villagers.  Without this hypnotism on the villagers, they might rebel and fight against the lottery or the child sacrifices.  Pirila secretly feared any magic might be used against her to banish her back to the realms of hell. 

There was a dark gloom and quietness about the people of the village.  They would never look anyone directly in the eyes.  Always they kept their gazes down and only spoke what was necessary to complete their business.

There were a few brave souls in the village that rebelled against the priests.  They fought with their last ounce of faith against converting to the dark religion.  Without their willingness to convert, the priests could not hypnotize them.  Every creation of pain and torture was inflicted upon them without any mercy.  These villagers were strong and held on to their pride and stubbornness.  These poor unfortunate souls would then be released into the damp and dirty streets to suffer through the cold night until the next morning when they would be recaptured for more torture and torment.  They couldn't escape the city.  Guards were at every entrance.  Converted villagers shunned them.  They were beaten if they got caught stealing scraps from any trash bins.  The cult allowed some of the villagers to acquire these slaves for hard labor as a form of torture and motivation to convert.  The slaves’ only hope was to hide in the dark alleyways and scrounge for whatever they could find to fill their stomachs.  There were a select few that had shabby little huts, but they were the lucky ones that knew someone, or married a spouse whose parents could help them out.  Sometimes a few would get lucky and slip past a sleeping guard and run for sanctuary. Many of these rebellious villagers learned to come to Amirae’s mother in the middle of the dark night for food and maybe a spell to help them endure the pain from the torture chamber.  They were welcomed and generously given hot tea biscuits to warm their insides as well as their outsides by the roaring fire of her humble cottage.

Amirae would peek from behind her curtain that her mother creatively hung around her cot to give her privacy from these moonlit visitors.  She loved to see their faces smile when her mother gave them food and drink.  She listened to their tales of the dark dungeon with the unique machines and tools that the priests would use to inflict pain upon the helpless victims.

They would tell the stories of the sacrifices of the young men and women and the great loss to their families.  Amirae would listen to the quiet drone of their voices.  The visions of their hopes and dreams would dance in her mind and sing her to sleep. 

She would often envision a world where her mother didn't look over her shoulder.  Where there were nothing but smiles and happiness radiating and glowing about her mother.  She would dream of flowers and thick forests nestling them in a large house. A house filled with smells of cakes baking, and the flowers her mother would pick to place on the table. As well as the smell of a fire crackling in the hearth as a pot of stew simmered above.  Colorful herbs would lace the top of the room as if dancing in harmony.  Sunlight would stream through the windows and create plays of shadows across the walls and floor.

Before she knew it...her dreams would be awakened by her mother’s kisses and tickles.  Her mother showered her with smiles, hugs, and love but Amirae could still see the worry and sadness deep within her mother's eyes.  One day she laid her head back on the pillow as she listened to the man on the other side of the curtain.

Lilliethema, I can't take the torture anymore...I am on the verge of giving up and converting just to stop the pain...please, I am begging you to help me be strong...prayers and meditation are not enough anymore, the distraught villager begged with pleading eyes and trembling hands clasped together as if in prayer.  Lilliethema placed her small hand on top of his and looked at him with comforting eyes and a soft smile.  The villager took a deep breath and sighed knowing that desperation would not get him anywhere.

Koner...calm down.  I will help you but panicking is not getting us anywhere...you cannot concentrate on your meditations and visualizations if you are in upheaval.  Before we begin this spell, you have to calm down and focus.  Sip on this tea, while I prepare.  And call me Lillie, you don’t have to be so formal with me. She instructed him firmly.

Lilliethema began hustling together the needed herbs, candles and other supplies from her tiny kitchen.  As she gathered the items and bustled around the earthy kitchen, Koner stared at the flames jumping and dancing in the fireplace.  He took comfort in the warmth the flames provided and let his nerves and energy calm.  The soothing tea Lillie graciously put in his hands began warming his insides.  He could feel his muscles begin to relax. Lillie bustled over to the table and began placing candles on it.  Bowls of water and salt were gently placed in the corresponding areas.  She proceeded with her spell as she lit the candles and began consecrating and cleansing the sacred circle. 

Koner concentrated hard as Lillie began reciting her spell to bring him strength and courage. As she let the energy flow through her and the words pass by her lips, she sprinkled basil and fennel into the cauldron.  Next she gently slipped one drop of myrrh and dragons blood oil into the mixture.

Lady Moon, please spread your rays of light over Koner's patch of reality; watch him as he stands beneath your loving gaze away from those who would cloud his vision. Allow sister stars to glitter through the sky and sing for the night.  Mother, please fill him with your beauty and reveal to him the knowledge of your silent domain.  His heart holds naught but love for you.  His soul wishes to sing in harmony with its sisters and brothers within your embrace. In love and respect he comes before you.  And he asks to be blessed with the power of the Lady Moon.

She then took from her magic supplies a red swirling bloodstone that tingled to the touch and placed it into the cauldron. She poured the bowls of water and salt in as well.  She walked the cauldron over to the fire and hung it on a hook used for cooking stews over the fire.  Letting the fire boil the mixture, she held her hands over the fire and closed her eyes.  She imagined a white beam of light coming down from the Lady Moon channeling through her chakras.  She felt the tingling as she visualized the light coursing through her arms and blasting the mixture with positive energy.  She held her visualization until the mixture had been boiling for a few minutes.  She released her hold and then proceeded to lift the bloodstone out of the cauldron with an iron tong.  Awaiting the stone was a purple satchel tied with a leather cord.  She placed the stone in the satchel and asked the Lady Moon to bless and consecrate. 

After closing her circle and allowing the stone to cool, she handed the stone to Kroner.

You need to wear the satchel around your neck.  Hide it under your shirt.  In the very least, keep it in your pocket.  Without the stone on you, it will not work and block the pain.  Koner nodded in understanding.  He took the satchel from her hand and anxiously placed it around his neck.

Thank you Lillie.  May the Lady Moon bless you. he expressed with sincere gratitude.  He stood up from the table and reached over to wrap his arms around Lillie, giving her a tight hug.  She patted his arm and gestured towards the cottage door.

After several more thank you’s, he left Lillie's cottage happy, rejuvenated, and excited that his torture would be bearable the next time the priests were lucky enough to find him again.

Lilliethema exhaled a breath of relief as she began the routine chore of cleaning up after casting her spell.  She thought of Koner and all those poor villagers and the torment they were forced to undergo.  All of her workings for the last few months had not seemed to help with the overall evil that was in the village.  Many nights, after Amirae went to sleep, she would desperately attempt a spell to get rid of the evil in the village, not just a spell to help the villagers cope with their sufferings.  Every week someone new would come to her for help and comfort.  Thank goodness the cloaking spells she performed for protection always seemed to stand strong and keep Amirae and her safe.

A sickening feeling gurgled in her stomach and spread anxiety throughout her limbs.  She looked out through the window at the moon shining down on her as something whispered in her mind that the spell would not hold for long.  Evil would soon break through and danger would befall them both.  A single tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to dismiss the visions of what could be done to Amirae and her innocent youth.  As her own innocence was robbed of her, she only wanted better for her daughter.  She continued to gaze out at the moon as memories flooded her mind.

Her chains rattled as she pulled on her restraints.  The cold damp feel of the underground cave chilled through to her bones.  She jerked and pulled, desperate to escape before the demon returned and inflicted more pain upon her.  Darkness surrounded her and still she looked upwards pleading with her Goddess to save her, hoping there was a chance for survival.  Tears trailed down her dirty swollen cheeks, leaving tracks behind them, as she continued to pray.

Heavy thuds sounded in the distance, vibrating the rock wall behind her and shaking the dirt beneath her bare feet.  The praying and pleading stopped as she gasped and held her breath in fright.  It was too late.  He was here and she would soon face her own death.  She accepted it and only looked forward to being welcomed in the arms of her Goddess, never again to feel fear or pain.

Growling emerged from around the bend of the demon’s lair and a light flickered just ahead.  Shadows danced around the cave’s walls growing in size.

The demon’s shadow emerged just ahead of the torch and she saw the horns that crowned his massive head before he fully emerged into the opening of her soon to be death chamber.

Gripping onto the chains for support, she watched, not daring to close her eyes but to stare the evil in his eyes before he released her from life.

The cave was too small for his monstrous height and he had to duck his horned head until he completely entered the opening where he kept her chained.

When he was finally able to stand to his full height, she had to raise her head up high to look into his evil eyes.  Eyes black as pitch and soulless.  Slightly resembling that of a man with the contours of his broad chest and ripped abs, the only difference was the color of his blood red skin and the