Echoes of Destiny: The Mist King Prophecy, #1

By Serena Simpson

As destiny's life drains, a glimmer of hope arises, offering Destiny a chance to partake in a battle of legend. With the allure of a fantastical realm beckoning, she must gather the strength to leave her reality behind.

 

Yet, on the other side of the mist portal, death waits, an unwavering companion in any realm.

 

Through eons of confinement, Kie'lo seeks his queen across time and space, knowing she doesn't reside within his realm. With a heartfelt plea, he implores her to come to him, for only she holds the key to his liberation.

 

Together, they embark on a journey to save his kingdom, their intertwined fates drawing them closer with every perilous step.

 

Together, Destiny and Kie'lo hold the key to salvation for his realm and kingdom. Apart, their fates are sealed in darkness. As they draw closer to victory, a love blossoms that transcends realms. But in the face of destiny, where one is destined for death and the other for an eternal solitude, will their love be enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Serena Simpson
• Release date: Jul 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223596929

Serena Simpson

Serena grew up watching reruns of Star Trek and getting impatient when the football game ran into overtime and delayed or canceled Star Trek. You may understand why football is not a sport she prefers! She spent years creating stories in her head and reading ALL THE BOOKS! It wasn’t until her daughter was lying in a hospital bed and she realized that life was too short bot to be with the people she loved that she started looking for an alternate career. She’s been writing since 2015 loving it on some days and hating it on others. What she loves the most are the fans. Okay, she also loves a good steak, but shh… What you will find in all her books are love and family.

Book preview

Chapter one

The incessant noise of heart monitors beeping at different rates and pitches, mixed with the sound of an I.V.’s slow infernal drip-drip. There was the sound of thick rubber soles either hustling down the tiled floor or shuffling mixed in with the other sounds. The piece of de la resistance was the moans and whimpers of pain that could never be fully blocked. It was all driving Destiny stark raving mad.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands, counting every second until the doctor walked into her room. At least she was dressed. Thank the Lord for that. The room was a standard two-person hospital room. She was on side b. That meant she was next to the bathroom, a blessing and a curse. This also meant that she had control over the window. There was a flat-screen TV mounted to the wall, a place for clothes and a chair that no one used, and the curtain that separated her from her roommate. Let’s not forget the extremely uncomfortable hospital bed.

None of that told the story of how she got there. It didn’t even touch on how she got this far in her life. She was forty-something. She stopped saying her age a few years ago. It might be a little thing, but aging gracefully or not was something she wasn’t inclined to do. Who sang about being young forever? She didn’t know, but at this point in her life, she’d give up her money to be young again. Forty with no husband or significant other, and no children. She wanted to curse fate, but that nut would laugh in her face and say it was her fault. She wasn’t sure she disagreed with fate. Her hand pulled at the open collar of her shirt so that she could see the small cardiac machine attached to her chest. This was her ticket to freedom for the next few weeks. No guarantee she’d be here after that.

Her head shook in denial even as she heard the words heart transplant. Too much damage for a pacemaker. The chances of living to get a transplant were astronomically small. How? she’d ask, unable to say more.

A virus, more than one. It… they had attacked her heart, which was nothing more than a muscle.

They asked if she had been sick. Of course she had. It didn’t matter that she powered through. Her job was her life. Now it looked like it would be her death.

Destiny. Dr. Eric Wells walked into her room with an enormous smile on his face.

Eric. It seemed when you were dying first name basis with your doctor was okay. At least it was okay with her cardiologist.

Are you ready to go home? She twisted her lips and gave him a death stare. Don’t ask stupid questions.

You’re right, that was a stupid question. Her twisted lips relaxed into a genuine smile. She liked him, and it wasn’t his fault that she was dying. Although, sometimes it was hard to remember that the blame lay with her.

The nurse will be in shortly with your get-out-of-jail-free papers. I came to ask if you had any more questions. We have an appointment in two weeks, and you have my numbers…

She had his office number and his private cell phone number. Doctors weren’t her favorite people. She was allowed to have her biases, but Eric cared. It was there in the way he treated her, not just physically, but mentally. Taking his time to explain everything and answer her multitude of questions. Like she told him, the first day, she wanted to understand what was happening to her. She had made some big mistakes with her health, but it wasn’t a lack of caring for herself. It was cultural and lacking understanding. She wasn’t thinking of race when she said culture; she was thinking of how she grew up. Maybe she should call it environmental with a splash of cultural mixed in.

I think I’m good. Continue to live life, don’t miss my medicines, forget skiing or skating, bob sled riding, and maybe don’t dance. Wait, what’s that other one?

No parkour. His green eyes lit with the strength of his smile.

She snapped her fingers. That’s the one that hurts. I was planning on jumping from the roof of my house to the one next to it. I’ll never check that off my bucket list.

Eric laughed while shaking his head at her. You’re taking this better than most of my patients.

Did she have a choice? She’d steamroll ahead and do everything they told her to do and maybe… just maybe she’d get out of this by the skin of her teeth. If she didn’t? Well, there wasn’t anyone to miss her.

If I thought crying, shouting, or invoking the name of God would heal me. I’d be doing them all. None of that will change the situation I’m in. All she could do was…

Come to me.

She shook her head lightly, looked around the room, and then went back to paying attention to her doctor. The door opened, making both of them turn to see who was entering. The nurse had brown hair and looked like she had just reapplied her makeup, giving her that fresh-faced look.

Sorry, Dr. Wells, I didn’t know you were in here.

Destiny bit her lip. The nurse knew he was in there and she made sure that she got noticed by him. Eric winked at her and left her with the nurse, who was holding her discharge papers. The nurse gave a dreamy smile after he walked out. Eric stood around six feet and reminded her of a tight end and not only because his end was tight. He had broad shoulders and a chest that narrowed down to a small waist and a rear end that her friend when she was younger, would call juicy, but it didn’t jiggle. It was tight. She always liked a man with a tight, well-compacted ass. Not that she’d kick Eric out of her bed for eating crackers. Nope, she’d keep him if he were hers… but she didn’t want him. Was she getting old and crotchety?

Discharge papers? She reached out a hand and made grabby fingers. She was beyond ready to get out of there.

How are you getting home?

Thanks, nurse rachet for reminding me I have no one to meet me or give me a ride. Yeah, that wasn’t fair, but she was done being the bigger person. Especially in her head.

I’m calling an Uber. Less fuss that way.

The nurse went over her discharge papers and then handed her copies to sign before giving her copies to place in her overnight bag.

I called transport. They will be on their way shortly. Give them maybe ten minutes before you call for your ride.

Oh, I don’t need…

The nurse was shaking her head. Nope, if you want to leave, then it will be via a wheelchair with a transport person pushing you. They will stay with you until your ride comes. Hospital policy.

There were hills she was willing to die on. This wasn’t one of them.

Thank you. She gave the nurse a smile and then pulled out her phone to play one of the many games she downloaded while she was in the hospital. How had she missed the joy of endless zombie fun, of playing a game that would never mean anything or change the world? Lighten up, she told herself, getting lost in a repetitive card game.

Knock, knock, knock. A man with a wheelchair strolled in. Hi, I’m Gary. Your gateway drug to freedom.

She choked on a laugh. It felt good to be getting out. She handed him her bags and then got into the wheelchair. Gary, tell me you’re only as strong as weed. Anything else and I’ll end up back here.

Don’t worry, I got you covered. She pulled up her app and requested an Uber. They talked the rest of the way out front and then until her Uber came.

Thanks, Gary, take care of yourself. For a minute, it felt almost like having a friend. She slid into the back of the car and closed her eyes.

Come to me.

She ignored that break with reality the way she had always done. The first time she heard that voice or thought she heard it she was twenty-one. Her college acquaintances wanted to take her out for a drink. It wasn’t until years later that she realized it was hard to have a friend if you were forever closed off. They treated her to shots. Never again, she swore and till this day; she kept her promise. Maybe now was the time to break it.

The picture of her lying on her bed was as clear as if it were happening right now. One leg touching the floor in the vain hope of keeping the room from spinning. Her jeans were open, and her tee was half off. She was a picture of drunkenness, and her roommate laughed her ass off before leaving her alone. That’s when she first heard the voice.

Come to me.

Who are you? She used her mental voice to keep her roommate from walking in to find her talking to herself. When the voice didn’t answer, she gave a shrug that almost made her roll off the bed. It was worth a shot. She was blitzed and maybe she had some cool psychic power or maybe her parents were on the other side talking to her. A tear coursed down her cheek, and she made a vow never to talk to the voice again.

Why are you talking to me? Yep, she broke her promise. But come on, do drunk promises mean anything?

I’ve been waiting for you to hit your first blush of womanhood. She couldn’t say anything because she was too busy laughing and watching the ceiling of her dorm room spin. She was laughing so hard.

First blush? That was when she turned twelve and had her first period. Or had it happened when that sleazy old man tried to put his hand down her tee to feel her budding breasts? That first blush happened too many years ago to think about. The voice in her head was kind of nice, though. She was obviously experiencing drunken hallucinations, but they were kind of fun.

Come to me.

What? No! I’m in school and about to graduate. Then I’m going back to school. Do you know why? Because knowledge is power, she told him before he could answer. You can kiss my coffee with liberal creamer ass. That’s how girls like me go missing.

She passed out after that.

We’re here. Her Uber driver pulled up to the house. She got out and grabbed her bag. She’d be sure to give him a nice tip.

Thanks. He tilted his head at her and was gone.

Chapter two

Destiny stood in front of the thick, black, wrought-iron fence that surrounded her property. She could enter the code that would open the enormous gates. They would slide to the sides to allow a car to pass. There was a smaller section that was a door for an individual to pass through. That’s the code she entered. The gate swung open, allowing her to pass, and then swung shut. There was barely a snick as it closed, separating her from the world around her. The road that led to her formidable house was cobblestone. Some part of her held onto her fascination with them from when she was a child. The road circled a large fountain that was on all year round. On either side of the road was a grass area with a myriad of flowers planted around the perimeter on both sides.

She walked closer until the house came into view. It was a mix of different warm and inviting stones. Her retreat from a world that didn’t give a damn about her. She never looked at the world like that until today. Her honesty forced her to admit that she may be the reason no one cared.

Her house was large, wider at the base than the height. The french doors at the front of the house were beautiful and made sure there was no issue moving furniture in or out. Her frosted windows allowed the sun in but kept prying eyes out. She had a large front porch with a chair swing for nice, warm nights. There were more flowers planted next to the house, as well as some honeysuckle bushes. She always loved the smell of them. There were strategic cameras hidden around the property that came directly to her phone. With one touch, the images could be sent to the proper authorities as needed.

Her place was beautiful, and she was… lonely. She was always alone. I will not be sad, she chanted as she entered through the front doors. She lived her life, maybe not the way others lived theirs, but she had lived. There was a foyer when she entered and a small hallway that led to a mudroom. She bypassed that and went into the living room. The cool blue of the walls gave her a peaceful vibe. There was a beautiful blue and white rug on her wooden floors and a fireplace she loved to cuddle up in front of in the winter. There was a sectional that was beige with pops of blue, along with two overstuffed chairs and a brown coffee table made from reclaimed wood. On her walls were pictures of waterfalls. They always called out to her, even as a child. The few vacations she allowed herself in life were always to some place where she could see a waterfall.

She crossed the living room and the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom. This was her ultimate retreat. The walls were sea green and there was a painting on the wall of a waterfall rushing over a cliff to a placid lake below. She had a king-sized bed and a walk-in closet and an ensuite. She stripped her clothes and walked into the bathroom. A shower was due to wipe off the smell of the hospital. Then she would lie down and get some of the sleep that eluded her in the last week.

An hour later, she was tossing and turning in bed, no sleep to be found.

Come to meet.

She groaned and placed her pillow over her head like that was going to stop a voice that she was sure was nothing but her imagination. That voice had followed her over the years, always calling out to her. Commanding her to do something like it had a right to her obedience.

How many times had she told that voice that she had a life and whatever it wanted, she wasn’t interested in it? How many times had she lied? The desire to follow the voice to find out if it promised life or death hounded her, but she was too busy. There was money to make and the corporate ladder to climb. Didn’t the voice know she who dies with the most toys wins? Except she was dying now and there was no winning in this.

Death was her destiny. She gave an ironic laugh and then stopped when her heart started hurting. No, there would be no transplant. Yes, she believed in the power of positive thinking. She was also a realist. And the truth was, the chances of her dying on the table were too high for them to risk a heart transplant. She knew it, even if Eric wanted it to be different.

Her mind swirled around, examining all the possibilities until she sank into a dreamless sleep.

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In her sleep, she was running before she dived into a deep pool with a waterfall of many colors raining over her head. She came up through the water that was blanketed in mist, laughing.

Where are you? She was sure she was talking, but her lips weren’t moving. A dive under the water should help her think better. She always loved the water, but was never a proficient swimmer. Now she swam like she was born to it. The water caressed a weary body and mind.

Where are you? The words came again, but she was underwater. How could she be speaking, or calling out to the strange, seductive voice?

You have to find me. The voice was deep, and it thrilled a part of her that she couldn’t name. Maybe she didn’t want to name it. With her time so limited, why would she start what couldn’t be finished?

Search, seek, find. She had heard voices described as liquor or even rocks. His voice was definitely some sort of liquor. Maybe a thousand-year-old brandy. She laughed because that was an outrageous thought. This is just a dream, she reminded