The Legend of Acacia Vitak: The Beginning

By Jennifer West

Acacia Vitak is your average teenager – she has a family, has chores to deal with and goes to a dull school day in, day out.
At school she feels like an outcast and at home she sometimes wishes she can just stay buried under the covers in her room with a good book. Then her 16th birthday arrives.
Unexplainable events, something lurking and seeking to capture her, a mysterious boy, hidden powers and an ancient evil. New worlds await her, but something is watching her every move…
What will she uncover? Will she give in to the dark or the light? Will she be too late to save everything and everyone?
Only she holds the key to make the legends come true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781398410473

Jennifer West

Jennifer West has been an avid reader since she was young. She is a published writer, known for self-publishing three books over the last two years and is a renowned ghost-writer. She also specialised in English language and literature at university and has the unique ability to bring words to life.

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About the Author

Jennifer West has been an avid reader since she was young. She is a published writer, known for self-publishing three books over the last two years and is a renowned ghost-writer. She also specialised in English language and literature at university and has the unique ability to bring words to life.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to William Whyte. You believed in me more than anyone I ever knew and were always so certain I was going to make it someday. I miss you so much and I hope that you’re proud.

Catch you later. May you rest in peace.

Copyright Information ©

Jennifer West (2021)

The right of Jennifer West to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398410466 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398410473 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Leigh Marsh for taking the time to read through my many renditions of this book and for being my friend. I owe so much of my success to you and I am so grateful for you being a part of my life.

I would like to thank Charlotte Hindson for being a great role model and convincing me to work harder for what I want.

I would like to thank my family and close friends for being my muse to certain characters and for putting up with me for going on and on about this book over the last ten years!

Prologue

She flew through the jungle with unimaginable speed like a ball of lightning, making every colourful leaf shudder in its wake. She cradled what appeared to be a ball of cloth to her chest, whispering softly to it as she raced on through the jungle.

She was graceful and elegant and leapt with such beauty it would sting your eyes if you looked close. Her voice was soft and soothing, like some distant lullaby you couldn’t place.

Her skin was different, golden like the sun and radiating back everything it touched, reflecting from every surface. But, her face was contorted in a look of terror.

The forest spun around her. Bright, colourful and exotic. More colours than you could possibly even begin to dream of. It shone and glimmered like rainbows.

She ran and ran, until at last she approached her destination.

The brink of her world, which would soon be nothing more than a wasteland. Reh evas, save her, jier ses, kali re. She thought of them, two words in every possible language. That’s all she wanted. For her sweet daughter to be saved. She knelt on the soft pink grass, next to the crimson, blood-like waters and closed her eyes. She searched for somewhere – anywhere – safe.

She had to search for a place where the inhabitants were similar to the Vitaks. Similar enough that her baby would blend in, yet she had to think of somewhere the Slaughters would never look. Somewhere far, far away.

The monsters began closing in, and in a hurry, she found the perfect place. Far, far away from this terror. Earth. Roars of anguish and shouts of horror crept ever closer behind her.

Her lips began to move quickly and softly, whispered words tumbling out at a maddening pace. She then slid what appeared to be a small band from her wrist and placed it in the tiny bundle.

Eventually the crimson waters churned and rushed towards her. She held the small bundle up and it was washed away.

The crimson waters churned, rippled and settled. Now deceptively peaceful amid the approaching chaos.

Be safe my love.

Darkness engulfed the land.

Chapter 1

I woke up with a jolt, my heart feeling like it was thudding in my mouth. I choked back tears and swung my legs from the bed onto the cold, wooden floor. I was greeted by an icy stare in the mirror and damp eyes, strange emotions coursing through my veins.

Every night I have had the same dream, for as long as I can remember. An infant staring into oncoming darkness and laughing at it. Enjoying the fact, I was so near its grasp and then waving goodbye to the strange world I was in.

This time it was different. I was the mother. Running at such a speed my heart was thudding, tears dampening my eyes as I knew what I had to part with, but worst of all I feared the darkness and what it would do to me. Glimmers of memories of torture, pain and blood flashed before my eyes as I ran but I knew I couldn’t escape it.

I felt the terror building again in my throat and bones in a way that would be impossible to describe as the dream flashed through my waking mind. I saw everything, I felt everything: the strange woman’s thoughts, fears and determination. Everything.

The baby had to be sent away. I could see the thoughts flash through her mind of something wicked ready to destroy the infant. A sacrifice that I knew I had to make in the dream.

A necessary sacrifice. Something that was slowly slipping away from me the more I awoke.

I rubbed my eyes, shook my head clear of the strange dream and sighed, picking up my dream journal.

I’ve always pictured dreams as thoughtful – even if it’s the same one – every night. This one was something of a breakthrough through. It made my skin crawl, heart race, and most importantly, wasn’t the same as every other night. So, I felt it was worth taking note.

I played back the dream in my head, wondering if it was significant. Although, a part of me knew that it was probably just my subconscious mind finding another way to tell me that my parents had a good reason to give me up. At least, that’s what Viola had always said when I asked her.

Acacia! Come downstairs! Viola boomed, her voice laced with irritation.

I groaned and yelled back, Coming!

Viola was my adopted mum and I knew her usual trick – sound annoyed, then once I come downstairs, ‘Surprise!’

I thought back to my 12th birthday, one of my favourites.

I woke up with a groan as Kyra and Callie burst into my room. Kyra placed Callie down onto the soft, carpeted floor and bounced over to me.

Acacia! It’s your birthday! Happy Birthday! It’s your birthday!

Callie was only a baby, but she followed Kyra everywhere and adored her, making happy little gurgles and crawling with an ungodly speed wherever Kyra headed. So far, she could say da-da, ma-ma, kya and aci. It was close enough.

She bolted after Kyra to my bed.

Acacia! Come downstairs! Pick up Callie!

As Callie was so fast, Viola had put baby gates on the long spiral staircase, but it didn’t stop her from attempting to climb them and go head first down the stairs.

Kyra was seven now and even though it was 7a.m. she had paint smeared across her face and hands and was wearing a mischievous smile. I picked up Callie and realised that she had gotten paint all over her too.

What on earth were you two doing?

None of your business! We better go see Mum before she gets cross. With that she flipped her hair, splashing a mix of paint into the blonde locks as she did, and flounced out of the room.

Kyra’s always been the opposite of me, with sparkling honey eyes and an attitude that was somehow impossible but hilarious. She never went long without something arty playing in her hands, Viola and Wade cursing and running after her as she laughed mischievously, leaving a trail of glitter or paint trailing after her wherever she went.

She could always make me laugh. I looked at my now sticky, wet hands and shuddered. Following Kyra out the door, I entered the bright white hallway.

As I followed her, I stopped to smile at my favourite photo hanging on the wall near my bedroom door. It was the picture of Wade and me that had been taken the day that I was adopted. Apparently, they’d been trying for years with no luck and then they found me near a river.

I’d been there for at least a day and they took me to the hospital and spoke with the police. They couldn’t find my birth parents – they said that they always thought maybe I was involved in some boating accident, given where I was found, but couldn’t say for sure.

After it had been sorted out with the police and they couldn’t find my home, Viola and Wade took me in, adopting me soon after. In the picture, Wade’s smile was big and bright, a single tear rolling down his cheek from his dark blue eyes. Wade had orange hair and freckles and was in his late twenties when the picture was taken. He was skinny, with light skin, and was gently holding a little ball of cloth in his arms. A tiny little fist was poking out, clasping onto one of his fingers.

The short hallway to the staircase was covered in paint. I suppressed a laugh as I stepped over it and started trudging down the wooden stairs. Kyra was definitely going to be grounded tonight…

I grinned looking at all the over photographs and pictures hanging on the walls: some of them were Kyra’s masterpieces. Others were Viola’s masterpieces. Some of them were photos of all of us together and some were just baby photos. All of them hung in bright, colourful frames. A sharp contrast against the white wooden walls that adorned the hallways.

Callie gurgled happily, her bright blue eyes taking in everything with curiosity and wonder, reminding me of the same dream that I had every night. I quickly cast the dream aside and trudged downstairs, passing Callie’s bright monkey-themed nursery and Kyra’s hot pink paint covered bedroom.

I tucked some stray hairs behind Callie’s ear and she giggled at me. Eventually, I walked across the long hallway at the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen.

I opened the door into the slick black and white kitchen and was mortified. I stood, covered in paint from holding Callie and in checkered PJs.

SURPRISE!

Sunlight was streaming into the kitchen. Grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. All. Of. Them. Wade and Viola had invited EVERYONE.

Banners and streamers were pinned up and around the big kitchen. Balloons were dotted along the walls and bunches of presents were stacked on top of the cabinets and table at the far end of the room.

I could feel my face flush bright red as I looked at all the faces around me.

Wade came up to me and slapped me on the back. Happy birthday, kiddo. I’m sorry. I begged her not to. I promise! I giggled uncomfortably and he took a grinning Callie out of my hands.

How on earth did you get… KYRA!

Kyra, next to the kitchen island, was holding a huge slice of cake which she’d seemed to heap out of my birthday cake (in the shape of a book – of course! – now with a Kyra sized hand chunk of cake missing), and a painting in the other hand.

She ran up to me grinning, her face covered in chocolate cake and pressed a lovely painting of blobs into me.

It’s us! she exclaimed.

I smiled at her and excitedly told her it was truly a work of art that would one day sit in museums. I walked over to the island and sat on one of the chairs, as my family came up and hugged and squeezed me. They all seemed to be obsessed with giving me awkward kisses on the cheek too.

Kyra leapt up onto my lap when the last of the horde of relatives shuffled away. She leaned in really close, eyeing Viola and Wade who were within hearing distance and said sorry for eating some cake, just loud enough for Wade and Viola to hear nearby.

Giggling, I hugged her.

Viola then demanded that the lights go out and everyone start singing ‘happy birthday’.

I grinned as Viola stuck candles into the book-shaped cake and ushered everyone near to me. Wade went to flick off the lights and then put his arm around Viola, with Callie in his other arm as everyone started singing ‘Happy Birthday’.

I looked down at Kyra, who was grinning and getting more excited by the minute as the countdown began to blow out the candles. Looking up, I caught Wade’s eye.

His blue eyes twinkled and he smiled at me. One of his rare,