The Evermore Keeper: Book One of the Destiny Scrolls

By Samantha Ashton

Angela Meyler grew up attending normal schools alongside the pagan academy. From her mother, she learned how to fit in: studying, taking exams, making friends and practicing magic.

Lindsey Isle, GA. Where her family resides practicing the magic which has flowed for generations—and where her destiny is kept a secret.

Out with friends after her breakup, Angela meets William Enyalius. William is the same man she sees in her nightmares every night.

Angela realizes the last thing she wants is to get involved—reluctant to see him again, she agrees to a meeting, knowing it’s a horrible idea but can’t stop the pull he has on her. But nothing is as it seems. Angela finds herself tangled in an ancient prophecy that appears to revolve around her, when athletes begin to turn up missing around the world and an evil god is behind it.

Long lost family, friends and a soul mate she never knew she had will fight with each other and for each other to keep a century-long promise while staying alive…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387259854

Book preview

The Evermore Keeper: Book One of the Destiny Scrolls

THE EVERMORE KEEPER

A DESTINY PROPHECY: BOOK ONE

Samantha Ashton

COPYRIGHT

© 2017 by Sam Ashton

Cover design by Sam Ashton

Book One of the Destiny Scrolls

THE EVERMORE KEEPER

By Samantha Ashton

Summery:

Angela Meyler grew up attending normal schools alongside the pagan academy. From her mother, she learned how to fit in: studying, taking exams, making friends and practicing magic.

Lindsey Isle, GA. Where her family resides practicing the magic which has flowed for generations—and where her destiny is kept a secret.

Out with friends after her breakup, Angela meets William Enyalius. William is the same man she sees in her nightmares every night.

Angela realizes the last thing she wants is to get involved—reluctant to see him again, she agrees to a meeting, knowing it’s a horrible idea but can’t stop the pull he has on her. But nothing is as it seems. Angela finds herself tangled in an ancient prophecy that appears to revolve around her, when athletes begin to turn up missing around the world and an evil god is behind it. 

Long lost family, friends, and a soul mate she never knew she had will fight with each other and for each other to keep a century-long promise while staying alive…

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form is forbidden without written permission of the author.

License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase another copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Epub Ebook ISBN: 978-1-387-25985-4

TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE EVERMORE KEEPER

COPYRIGHT

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DEDICATION

To my sons, thank you for always being my guiding light, I love you to the moon and back plus all the stars.

CHAPTER ONE

Helllloooo Mom! I answer in a singsong voice.

Where are you? My mother sounds very panicky over the speakers as the hands-free set kicks in.

Mom, I can't chit-chat. I'm on the way to Shel’s. I try to sound calm, but talking on the phone while it’s raining makes me very nervous.

The rain is beating on my front window so hard that I turn the wipers onto max. Even that is not helping all that much.

Sweetheart, I need you to come home, don't bother going to Shel’s. I mean it, just come home. 

The light turned green, and traffic was on the move.

What? Are you kidding me?  Mom, I'll be fine, I'm driving at a snail pace and it’s not even raining that— I look out the passenger and driver side window’s while crossing the busy intersection, when some black pickup flies past his red light and rams into my driver’s side door.

A loud ear-splitting noise assaults me, causing my car to flip several times before my body crashes through the passenger side window, hitting the ground with a bone crushing slam. Before I could make sense of what just happened, I’m standing over a motionless, crumpled, muddied body in the rain.

I saw green, I’m sure I did.

Did I?

What just happened?

I am baffled by my seat belt snapping, that I was flung from my driver’s seat, and sent clear across the car through the passenger side window. I’m not surprised that my body looks as broken as it does. There is a gross stickiness on me. I’m not sure what it could be.

Maybe Blood?

I scream at the top of my lungs. Help!! I shout. Please help me! I rotate my head every which way. Why is no one helping me? People are running to the other car and checking to see if the driver is okay.

The driver gets out of his car, stumbling, as bottles of whiskey fall out into the road, cracking as they hit the pavement. He’s okay; he’s intoxicated, which is what saved his life.

I stand over my body, looking at how ashen and white I am, even with all the mud and blood splatter. My body now laying there broken and bleeding in a water-filled ditch in the rain and on the other side of my car, which is upside down and crumbled like an empty soda can. If I don’t die from an injury or an infection, I’ll die from hypothermia.

There’s a lot of blood. Too much.

Looking around I see there are several more vehicles now that stopped to help with the accident. The bystanders are attending only to this idiot. This man was so intoxicated he could not drive but is awake and conscious with only a slice in his forehead. Most likely from hitting his steering wheel after T-boning my car. There are more people on scene helping out but not one of them has even looked at me yet, not a glance in my direction.

Hello people, I'm the one who's unconscious and bleeding from several places on my body.

I'm getting nervous and scared because no one is running to check on me.  It’s like I’m invisible to all of them.

Am I?

I run across the street to get help because it’s odd being outside of my body, still no one sees me. I grab for the first person I see. Help me please, over there. I point to my car so this woman knows what I’m talking about. The lady doesn’t glace at me and moving toward me, passes right through my body. My hands fly to my body in horror.

What’s going on?

There is this sticky sensation again, like my soul is trying to separate from my body.

I run back to my lifeless form to make sure I’m still there.

Checking out my surroundings to get someone’s attention, but still no one is looking at me.

A figure, a man in a hooded sweater, kneels down to check me.  He places his fingers on my neck to check for vitals, and I feel him without being inside my body.

I breathe a sigh of relief because someone finally has seen me and is with me now.  I don’t want to die alone.  I’m not sure who he is. He looks about my age. I don't think I remember seeing him around town before. I don’t see his face well because of the hood. He looks to be talking and shaking his head.

Am I dying?

I get a little closer, kicking a stone as I get nearer. Just then his head lifts and his blue eyes pierce right into my gaze. Like he can see me in the form I am standing before him in.  He is talking but I can’t understand him. The rain is deafening.  The rain cascades down my face and into my eyes making them blurry.

I spin in the direction of the roar of an ambulance in the distance, but I don't think I will make it that long.

A searing ache in the pit of my stomach turns my stomach causing me bend over.

Angelia? 

As soft as a whisper, a voice brushes past me.

Who is Angelia? My name is Angela.

I'm engulfed into darkness as something tightens around my body, suffocating me. I can’t catch my breath, it feels as though I’m being pulled under water and no air is getting to my lungs.

Angelia?

There it is again, who is that? Someone said what seems to be close to my name, but I don't recognize the voice.

WAKE UP! The voice screams in my head. 

I can’t open my eyes. Everything is black as darkness surrounds me.  The searing ache burns more in the pit of my stomach and grows more agonizing by the second.

Oh God!  Please help me!

What’s happening to me!? Am I dying?

It's so excruciating! It’s like my insides are boiling and on fire.  Someone or something is pulling me; every part of my body feels on fire.  I can't take it; it hurts.

I scream as the pain becomes unbearable.

I wake up startled, gasping for air, the burning in my body still there but fading. Sweat is dripping down my face, neck and back like I had just stepped out of the shower. My night shirt is drenched and my bed cold with the wetness from the amount of sweat. 

Flashes of light and the rolling of thunder bring me back to the present. The rain outside tapping on my window reminding me of my dream.

It always seems so real. The nightmare. My possible death.

These nightmares have been stealing more and more of my sleep away from me every night this week. I know to go back to sleep would mean I would dream, and I fear the dreams I’ve been having about my body burning from the inside out. 

Every night this week I am assailed by the same nightmare, a nightmare that won’t go away, that I believe will become real one day soon. It’s what happens with all my recurring nightmares. When the nightmares occur night after night it is only a matter of a few days they become real.  I could be watching the news and things that have happened in my sleep were coming true right before my eyes.

I never dream of anything good.  No ponies, babies or handsome men. No, I dream about the death of people.

The first nightmare I can remember was when a black cloud of smoke with yellow and red glowing eyes came and blanketed this town. I was in the center of this small town. People were running past me screaming, falling over and some being trampled. Some were even holding each other and waiting for the inevitable to happen to them. A town I know now as Baja in South America where a dormant volcano erupted without warning and laid ash and lava over the entire town.  There were no survivors.

Rolling to the side of my bed that is not sopping wet, I sit up and dangle my feet over the edge. Taking deep, steadying breaths, I listen to the rain outside the window. I try to settle my nerves and continue to breaths slow breaths.

Still very shaken from the nightmare, I realize I’m never eating chocolate cake before bed again. My mother always said sweets will give you nightmares, I should have listened her.

My yellow fuzzy slippers I spy just peering out from underneath my bed, I don’t usually get out of bed on this side and I’ve been searching for those for almost a week. I scrub my face with my hands and go back to grabbing the edge of the bed. 

I’m not in the mood for people today and don’t want to go to classes, but I need to get up and go so I can graduate and get the heck out of this forsaken town. No one leaves Lindsey Isle, Georgia unless it’s for a big executive job up in New York and even then, they always come back.

I hop out of the bed and attempt to peel myself out of the disgustingly wet clothes. Clothes that turned cold even in this humid weather, and throw them into my hamper by the closet door. The hamper already overfilled with clothes causes my damp ones to land on the intended target but roll and fall to the floor with the other dirty clothes. I should do laundry at some point this week.

Stretching my arms above my head, I lock my fingers together and bend forward and stretch every muscle from my neck to my legs.  My body is very tense, I should go to the sport clinic and get a massage.

I grab the towel that’s thrown over my desk chair, smell it to make sure it’s clean and head into my bathroom.

It’s only six in the morning, but since I’m awake and won’t be able to go back to sleep, I might as well get ready for the day. I stink of sweat, so a shower is worth getting up for. After that dream, even if I wanted to, I’m too shaken and wide awake to even attempt to go back to bed when I’m through with my shower.

I turn the dial to just past the center arrow and when the water is on and just scalding, I walk in closing the door behind me. I do a little dance and arch my back because the water is boiling against it. Placing my head under the spray, once I get use to the temperature of the water, the water runs down my head and body.

Thinking back on the nightmare it never changes; I’ve lost count of how many times I am burdened with it. I try to remember every detail to see if something even so miniscule has changed to make the nightmare just that, a dream and not a premonition. I bang my fist into the wall of the shower frustrated that the damn nightmare never changes. Shaking my head, I close my eyes envisioning the scene. Is there a time? Is there a date somewhere? No details pertaining to when this will occur are ever present.

I get out of the shower when the water turns cold. Wrapping the towel around my body, I clip up my hair on my scalp. Walking over to my sink I swipe the steam off the mirror. Staring into emerald eyes, once full of life now dulled by sleep deprivation, for a few moments before shaking my head and walking out of the steamy bathroom.

Walking over to my desk, I sit and write the nightmare down, every detail, every picture, and draw then re-draw the man in my dreams face. There are several pictures of this guy’s face in my journal. His piercing blue eyes always in finer detail than anything else in the nightmare.

Who is he?

Once satisfied that I had written everything down in my journal, I pick clothes out of the basket on my rocking chair and get dressed to head downstairs for some breakfast.

Mom left me a note on the counter, having already left for the hospital stating that there are waffles in the microwave. I open it up, get excited, and I reheat them to eat on the go since Shelby will be here any moment to pick me up for our classes.

Switching on the TV in the kitchen I turn on the news. I noticed that the news reporters were stating two athletes from Florida University are still missing and another student from Georgia Tech went missing yesterday. Finding it weird that that’s the third report this week of students who went on vacation and are now missing.

Turning off the TV, the microwave beeps and so does Shelby. I grab the waffles and run out the door locking it behind me. I see her already jamming out to some tunes in her little car.

My first few lectures go by quickly and it's my finally my free time. I head up the street to Delmont Café, about a mile’s walk up the road to meet up with Shelby. As I’m walking up to the Cafe, I notice a black pickup truck down the street, idling in front of the package store and wonder whose car it is and why would he already be getting alcohol this early in the morning.

I’ve never seen the truck in our small town before it could be a new student but I doubt it, it’s too late in the year to start classes.

Saying hello to friends sitting at various tables I head to our normal spot and sit down with a humph next to Shelby. We greet each other and place our order for some coffee. Shelby is going over our vacation we are taking soon after the senior ball. I’m so tired, I daze in and out throughout the conversations that are going on around me that sound like a buzz instead of voices.

Fingers snap in my face and I gape at Shelby.  Ang, you’re not even listening, are you? I blink, giving her a blank, uninterested stare.

Angela! Shelby rolls her eyes and snaps in my face to get my attention again.

I'm listening to you. I say to my best friend Shelby, turning my head in the other direction as I try to conceal a yawn. Shelby hits me in the arm. Ow! Shelby, jeez.

Shel and I knew each other since we were in diapers but became best friends back in sixth grade when she was being bullied. We became official best friends after some jerk-off in our gym class decided Shelby was the target of the week for their jokes.

Shelby was new to the school and I couldn’t stand, Tiffany Weismann, the bully of the school, attacking her. Shelby, she was awesome! She’s nice to everyone, no matter the clique. She's a huge talker. Like huge! She has these amazing stories that draw you in and if you’re not listening to whatever story she is telling you, you bet she will make you listen to it all over again just so you know every detail.

I glance at her again, smiling. Ang, of all people, you understand how important the Masquerade Ball is. We’ve been preparing for this since we were freshmen. What's up with you?  Are you sick? It’s like you’re on your own planet.

I see her with tired eyes because I did not sleep once again. That stupid nightmare. I scowl to myself.  I realize that I may not be the best of friends right now because of all the sleep I’m losing but I’m worried about the nightmare and my birthday is coming up. According to my coven it’s a big deal this year.

I go to college during the week, and a Pagan academy on the weekends. I’m studying Wicca. It’s an amazing religion, not everyone understands. I see numerous people protesting at the school because they think it’s for devil worshipping. It’s the 21st century, people need to wake up.

Shelby, I’m listening to every word you said, I groan when she gives me 'the look', If Evan hasn't asked you yet, ask him. She gapes at me with utter shock and complete disgust.  Don't give me that look Shelby. We are in a century were females can ask men out now.

I laugh because she stares at me like I told her Game of Thrones got canceled. That is Shelby’s favorite television show and we Skype during the episode every week.

Ang, that's not even funny.  Evan should grovel at my feet and be begging me to go with him.  It's only like a week away, and nothing from him! No hint whether he will ask or if has he decided that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore and we aren’t going!

You can see the panic on her face because she’s already bought the dress, but Shelby is predictable, she would rather stay home and pout, than go alone. I remember our Prom, senior year of high school.  Corey Bushnell asked Shelby to go with him but from what the rumors suggest he got back together with his ex Amanda and left Shelby high and dry.

This was the day before the Prom, her ticket purchased and we had finished buying her the perfect dress. Shelby didn’t want to believe the rumors, so she got dressed and we waited for him to pick her up. After sitting an hour, he never showed up.

We didn’t go.

My boyfriend at the time almost dumped me over boycotting our Prom.  With him being starting quarterback on the football team, tradition said he had to be there. Jay didn’t go because going without me, it would be a social embarrassment. So, he ended up lying to all our friends and said he came down with the stomach flu that morning.

We didn’t talk the entire week after because he was still acting like a drama queen.

Poor Shelby was miserable all night watching the social media notifications to see all the fun everyone was having. We both were being bombarded with text messages all evening.

I won’t even get into the fact that Corey and his date won Prom King and Queen. Something Jay reminded me about for weeks, how we should win those titles.

It was not a night to talk about after that. Shelby burned every picture he was in, including the pictures of him in all the previous year’s yearbooks.

Shel, you and Evan have been dating for how long? Like a year or something, right? You guys are solid, but if you’re that worried about it I can do recon and see if he is just assuming you'll be going together, because you're together. That could be why he hasn't asked or Shelby he's not going to the ball and hopes you'll forget and never bring it up, ever.

I give my best friend a big toothy grin, because I think she is being ridiculous, and get Cheetos thrown at my head. I laugh and throw them back at her. First, you’re not funny.  Second you are such a great friend Ang, thank you for checking out what Evan is thinking.  If Evan is assuming we are going together than... 

Now that Shelby calmed down for the time being, I lose interest in what she's talking about fast. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the girl talk about dresses, shoes and the perfect accessories I don’t care about all that materialistic crap. I do girly things because Shelby likes to, and she is my best friend.

Mercy College has a Masquerade Ball every year to commemorate becoming a senior.  I think it is ridiculous but I guess there is nothing else to do in Liberty Isle.  The students who receive the invite the school committee sends out are the only eligible students allowed to attend.

However, if your date attends another college and not Mercy they would need to purchase a separate ticket.  The price of the ticket is double the cost for outsiders.  This college tries to weed out the miscreants and undergrads by showing favoritism for their frats and sororities. Their policies are so ridiculous.

All the girls at Mercy College treat the ball as a rite of passage if your part of a sorority. Which it is mandatory of every female if you want to graduate to be in a sorority. The college tries to help women become established after college. 

I’m in Kappa Pi, an international art co-ed fraternity. It’s fun, most days. Rush week and the pledging process was insane. All the freshmen had to sneak out to the courtyard after curfew and pretend to be statues of famous people for the night until the first class started in the morning.

Shelby and I have been attending this college for three years. Shelby Rein is my closest and dearest friend.  I remember when we applied to all the same colleges.  Shelby got accepted into Mercy while I got accepted into most of the colleges I applied to which included Mercy and my first choice, Royal Academy of Arts. 

Shelby cried knowing we might separate but stayed supportive no matter what choice I made. We always promised to go to college together and my art scholarship pays the entire four years at Mercy compared to RAC, which would only cover two years. 

So here we are, attending Mercy and having no regrets. We have the same general classes, Shelby is majoring in International Studies while I’m majoring in Fine Arts. We always have each other’s backs in case of anything, homework, lecture notes and gossip.

I snap back to the present when Shelby grabs my arm and drags me with her to the counter.

Heading out the door after paying our bill we walk back to Mercy for our next class. I look over at the package store and notice the truck was no longer at the package store and wonder again who it could be and also why the truck looks so familiar?

Ang, don't forget, my house tonight to finish planning for the ball.  Did you find a dress yet or should we do that tonight too? I still don’t want you to go to the ball alone. Have you asked anyone?

I evade the last question. Remember I'm making my dress Shelby. You saw the sketches, and it’s almost done. I have last-minute details to finish.

She gives me this excited, eyes wide open grin. You are such an amazing designer, I don’t understand why you aren’t pursuing that as a major instead of Fine Art and International Studies. Shel says in between mouthfuls of PBJ bites. She is always eating; I don’t understand where it all goes. She is super skinny, with a gymnast body. I know she runs a lot on her free time when she’s not shopping or reading gossip magazines but she eats more than she runs.

I snicker because she has been begging me to make her some dresses with my designs. For whatever selfish reason, I like using my designs for just myself. I like the uniqueness that no one will ever own the same dress as me, maybe one day I’ll design clothes and dresses for a living.

Who knows, right now I want to go overseas and teach art to under privileged kids. Teaching in a third world country is rewarding and looks amazing on my resume later in life.

I check my watch, which was a gift from my parents for my acceptance into college, and see the college up ahead, which mean I’m in my last class of the day.

Thank the lord.

Loving the hands-on classes more than the lectures I dread my next class.  Wishing I needed nothing else to just be an artist, but society tells me I need these classes about old people from the past or what’s inside a frog to succeed in life. Assuming succeeding in life in this world would be to keep a job for more than a few years.

The moment we get to Shel’s Biology class, she waves goodbye while reminding me to meet her by her car after our classes so we can go shopping. We have plans tonight to go to the Icehouse after we shop for ball stuff.

I shake my head, and smirk at her while waving bye and heading in the opposite direction to go to my next lecture.

CHAPTER TWO

As I’m sitting in my World Civilization II class listening to my professor, Mr. Kemp drone on and on about the ancient druid civilizations and dragging the lesson out more than it needs to be, I zone out. All I want to do is teach art so I don’t know why I need this class.

Daydreaming has always been my past time, didn't matter where I was or what I was doing, my imagination always crept up on me.  There would be these amazing stories I would fantasize in my head about courageous escapes or being an emissary, sometimes I’d even believe I was once a part of these different eras in time.

It’s something my dad use to tell me to get over and keep my head