“That must be what Hansa referred to yesterday morning,” the Druid concluded. “If my father and Hansa each had a swamp witches’ book, then finding them is imperative. I’ll need to speak to your sister again,” he said to Anjani, then shifted his focus back on me. “What was the third vision about?”
I looked down at the Daughter, her temple pressed into my arm. Her violet eyes wandered around the basement, occasionally settling on me.
“I made it all the way back to what seemed like the very beginning of Eritopia,” I answered. “I stood on top of Mount Agrith at dusk. There was a pool of water at the very top of the mountain, where its peak split in two. The eggs were never dropped on Agrith. They were pushed out by the water. They came from deep inside Eritopia,” I explained.
“Did you see them?” the Daughter asked me.
Draven tilted his head.
“Yes,” I told her. “I watched the eggs as they were pushed onto a ledge. They hatched, one by one, seven of them. They stood up, and they seemed to listen to everything around them, as if they understood the language of nature itself. They are deeply connected to Eritopia somehow. I know it in my heart, and I’m not sure how to explain that.”
A moment passed before Draven shared his conclusion with us.
“If they were created by Eritopia, then they must suffer when Eritopia suffers. There must be some kind of primordial connection between the Daughters and this world. This could be useful to us in the long run, especially if Azazel continues to burn and destroy everything,” he said. “I’m starting to think that the Daughters were a reaction to something, a particular event of that era. And the appearance of this last Daughter also seems auspicious. Just as Azazel’s reign of death and terror begins to spread, Mounth Agrith gives birth to another Daughter. I can see the connection.”
“I’m sorry I cannot be of more help,” the Daughter mumbled, looking up at me. “I don’t remember anything, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to know.”
I pulled her closer, my arm around her shoulders in a reassuring gesture.
“And speaking of strange connections, you and the Daughter seem to be linked,” said the Druid.
“Wait, what? What do you mean?” I asked him, then looked at the Daughter.
“This is the second time I’ve seen something strange between the two of you. First, when she awakened from her shell. And now earlier, when you succumbed to the spiced rose mixture. As soon as you passed out, so did she. As soon as you woke up, so did she.”
I blinked several times, trying to make sense of his statement. Serena looked at me and nodded.
“She fell flat on her face like a pancake.” Jovi grinned.
The Daughter grumbled something in his direction.
Jovi’s face dropped. “I’m sorry.”
The Daughter and I looked at each other, as if trying to find that hidden connection. I felt equal parts torrid attraction and crippling fear, as usual. I wanted to hold her close to my body and taste her lips, but at the same time I was aware that she had the power to kill me, or anyone else, with a single touch. I didn’t sense much else, and I felt too weak to attempt a mind-meld with her. I wasn’t even sure it would work. Or if she’d allow it.
“Whatever is going on between the two of you, you both need to be aware of it and pay attention,” Draven advised. “You could be connected in more ways than one.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. I felt myself sinking into the electrifying violet of her eyes. Was there really a connection of sorts? An invisible chord linking our bodies and souls? A string tying her heart to mine?
The latter felt like a probability, since my pulse raced every single time she looked at me. My body burned each time she smiled. My skin tickled wherever she touched me, sending billions of microscopic electrical currents through my muscles. We were bonded in more ways than one, and I had yet to ascertain whether that would be my salvation or my doom.
Vita
I wished it had only been a dream.
I slowly peeled my eyes open and sat up, my muscles gradually abandoning their relaxed state. Tension crept up through my back, stiffening inch after inch of flesh. I took a deep breath as I came fully into consciousness. One by one, the visions I’d had while I was sleeping started unraveling in my head, prompting me to search for Draven in the basement room.
Before I could call out to him, I looked down and saw black runes fluttering across my skin—hundreds of them in diagonal lines over my arms and chest. Heat expanded from my throat into my chest, and I screamed.
I was horrified by the prospect of becoming a full-fledged Oracle—barren, blind, and covered in thousands of tattoos. The reality of my condition came crashing down on me at the sight of those symbols. I wasn’t ready or willing to go through such changes.
I was swiftly wrapped in a pair of strong arms and held tightly as I struggled to scratch the runes off my skin. Bijarki’s hands held my wrists, preventing me from harming myself in my fit of panic, while Anjani feverishly jotted down what symbols she saw on me.
“What’s happening to me?!” I cried out.
“Take it easy, Vita.” Bijarki’s voice poured into my right ear, low and raspy, generating millions of tingly sensations in my spine. “They’re fading away.”
I held my breath as the runes gradually faded away. My eyes were glazed with hot tears, but my body relaxed in Bijarki’s embrace. I resorted to counting my breaths to regain control of my senses, while comforting myself with the firm and muscular frame of the incubus enveloping me.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, as if only for me to hear. “The runes don’t seem to be permanent. You’ll be fine, Vita.”
“But I’m turning, aren’t I?” I asked, my voice trembling.
I looked up and found his silver eyes heavily shadowed by long, black eyelashes. His gaze softened as soon as it met mine, and I felt him take a deep breath before he let me go and took a step back. I knew he was being respectful and doing his best to keep his distance, but in this moment, I wished he wasn’t.
“I tried to write down as many of them as I could,” Anjani said, showing me the pieces of paper.
Draven and Serena moved from Phoenix’s bed to mine. Serena took my hand in hers, and I leaned my head against her shoulder. Her presence soothed me while I combed through the memories of my visions in order to give the Druid an accurate account of what I had seen and heard.
I described the first scene to Draven, not skimping on any of the details of our capture. The memory of those glass spheres sent shivers down my spine, and I shuddered. I mentioned Azazel’s words to the Nevertide Oracle, emphasizing his gratitude for her support. As if he would’ve never gotten to us if it hadn’t been for her.
“This brings us back to our initial suspicions,” concluded Draven after listening carefully. “It might not be Azazel manipulating the Nevertide Oracle’s visions. She might be the one surrendering information to him.”
“That’s disheartening.” I frowned and looked at Serena.
She gave me a weak smile, as if trying to reassure me that everything would be okay. But I wasn’t convinced. I felt my mistrust toward the Oracle creeping through the back of my head, taking a firm hold over my judgment and amplifying my desire to protect my friends and my family from that dangerous lunatic.
“You have to take her current conditions into account, Vita,” Draven said. “She’s being held under water, confined to a glass bubble and who knows what else she’s constantly being put through, either by Azazel directly or his Destroyers. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants, and we all know that torturing an Oracle isn’t the first or the worst thing he’s ever done to bring his nefarious plans to fruition.”
I nodded slowly, then replayed the second vision in my mind first, wondering for a moment how Draven and Serena would react once I described it in full. I’d seen the look on her face. I’d heard his emotional confession. She meant more to him than he’d let anyone know. I did bel
ieve that she was already harboring feelings for the Druid in our present timeline, so I decided to keep certain details out and speak to her in private about their relationship, both present and future.
“The second vision was far worse,” I said, clearing my throat. “I was in one of Azazel’s chambers, the same black marble and rough limestone everywhere. He was holding Serena hostage, tied above a massive fire pit.”
I watched Draven carefully, noticing the flare in his nostrils and the jump of a muscle in his jawline. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said he was floored by my account. But the bandage over his eyes helped him conceal most of his distress, leaving me to interpret the tension in his facial muscles instead. Serena froze next to me, and I lifted my head from her shoulder. Her bluish green eyes were glassy, her gaze blank and lips thinned into a straight line.
“Serena was used as a bargaining chip by Azazel,” I told the Druid. “You were brought in by Destroyers, Draven. You surrendered yourself in exchange for her life. Azazel even took pride in being a…Druid of his word, holding up his end of the bargain and tossing Serena away from the fire. She was still his prisoner, but at least she wasn’t going to die. You sacrificed yourself for her.”
A moment passed before Serena broke the silence, giving Draven a pained look.
“Why would you ever sacrifice yourself for me?” she asked him.
The Druid shrugged, unable or unwilling to offer an answer.
“From what I can tell, Azazel will find out about me and those whom I may be vulnerable around,” he said instead. His head turned slowly toward Serena.
She looked down in response. Based on what I could see flickering in her eyes, Serena seemed conflicted and softened by the prospect that the Druid would sacrifice himself for her. I was willing to bet that the idea had already changed the dynamic between them.
“We clearly cannot hide from him forever,” Draven continued. “We will have to be extra vigilant going forward. He cannot have any reason to suspect that either one of us can be swayed by using one of our own against us. It’s how wars are lost and how people end up dying.”
A frown drew Serena’s brows together, and I heard her sigh.
But her reaction was feeble compared to the gasps and moans I drew out of the entire group when I described my third vision. As soon as I spoke about Draven dying and Azazel drawing raw power from his body and the many incubi and succubi left in the wasteland of Eritopia, everyone turned their attention on me, including the Daughter.
I told them about his exchange with Serena and his decision to invade Earth next out of psychopathic spite, just to get some kind of revenge against Serena, against all of us for opposing him and throwing wrenches into his wheels at every possible turn. No one said anything for a while. I couldn’t blame them. I, too, had trouble coming to terms with the possible future. The horror was difficult to fathom.
I shuddered as I thought of my parents, grandparents, family, friends, and the rest of the creatures of Earth who would be faced with the wrath of Azazel if he made it to that point in the future. If he were to win.
“The Destroyers wield incredible power,” Draven said, his voice soft as if treading slowly. He was most likely aware of what impact this vision had on me, on all of us. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they did manage to escape from Eritopia at some point. We need to make sure that the Daughters don’t end up changing their minds. It’s the only way I see Azazel leaving this world.”
“You think the Daughters would drop their defenses and let him spread out like a disease into other worlds?” Serena asked.
“Based on Vita’s vision, it seems like they would. We will have to dig deeper into the future and figure out which events would lead to such an abandonment. After all, they do serve Eritopia.”
“So, what do we do next?” I asked, no longer willing to sulk and worry about my Oracle transition or the nasty visions. The game had changed.
It was no longer just about Eritopia.
“You all need to rest for a while,” Draven replied. “You’ve done incredible work, and we’ve made substantial progress. Afterward, we’ll have to define a new plan and further investigate the string of events that will lead to that last vision of yours, Vita.”
“Needless to say, the stakes have been upped,” Serena added and straightened her back, pulling her shoulder blades closer together. “With Azazel potentially invading Earth, it’s clear that we cannot, under any circumstances, allow him to destroy Eritopia. He must be stopped.”
She spoke to all of us.
My gaze shifted from her to Aida, then Jovi, Phoenix, and Field. They all shared the same expression. Their resolve had changed. Concern no longer marred their features. Instead, I saw determination and a youthful viciousness I’d only seen during GASP trainings.
It took me another minute to realize that I was feeling the same way. Even if I were to go blind and whatever else the Oracle transformation brought down on me, I had a job to do. It was written in my genetic code, it was a part of my ethos. My family had spent generations protecting those who could not defend themselves, maintaining peace and unity between the most extraordinary of species.
There was no way we, their children, would be lesser beings than that.
I took a deep breath and took Serena’s hand in mine. “I think it’s time we start living up to the Novak name, don’t you think?”
She gave me a self-assured smile, the kind that exuded the confidence and bravery we would all need on this mission.
“You’re damn right,” she said.
She didn’t know it yet, but I had a feeling that Serena would soon be the force of unity between us all. She had the strength and determination needed to lead.
Serena
We’d all shifted quickly from shock and dismay to solid determination.
Vita’s vision of Azazel destroying Eritopia and preparing to invade Earth had gutted me, and judging by the looks on Phoenix, Vita, Field, Aida, and Jovi’s faces, it had had the same effect on them.
We were made from the same cloth. We were raised to stand up and fight for what was right. And given how personal it had become, thanks to Azazel’s future decision to invade our world, we seemed to have finally found our resolve. He had to be stopped, no matter what the cost was.
However, we still had a long way to go from acknowledging these emotions to putting them into practice. Most importantly, there were plenty of unknowns still in the equation.
The last Daughter of Eritopia was with us, but we had no clue what she could do and how we could persuade her to stay by our side once her sisters claimed her. I knew, deep down, that the Daughters of Eritopia were of a single mind, in a way. Phoenix’s vision of them on Mount Agrith had confirmed that suspicion already.
Our Daughter might be innocent and quiet now, but she might turn against us in the end. Or worse, she might leave us to be with her sisters and no longer interfere in Eritopian affairs.
The thought weighed heavily on my shoulders. I watched my brother’s fingers fiddle with one of her reddish pink curls, lost in conversation with a creature who had the potential to wield godlike powers.
The one thing that gave me hope that the last scenario might not come true was Vita’s third vision. I had a feeling that the Daughters could be persuaded to get involved if they believed in Azazel’s potential destruction of the very world that gave birth to them. I figured they might decide to stand their ground, if persuaded early enough. I’d have to talk about this with Draven soon and go over options. I certainly wasn’t ready to consider seeing the Daughters again, especially after what they had done to the Druid.
Our Oracles were slowly but surely coming into their own. However, time wasn’t on our side, and the incubi’s treachery had diminished our chances of a solid alliance against the Destroyers. We had to delve into the unknown and interact with creatures otherwise best left in the darkness just so we could gain some form of advantage in the battlefield.
I took
a deep breath and closed my eyes for a brief moment. More and more factors began to pile up as potential obstacles. I’d have to go over them by myself, one by one, later tonight in absolute silence.
What really troubled me—and by troubled, I meant tore into me and ripped me apart—was the prospect of Draven dying. Every time my mind ran in that direction, my throat closed up, and my heart thumped agonizingly in my chest.
I shook my head and looked up from the dark green tiles on the floor, where I’d rested my gaze for a few minutes, to find Draven standing next to me, quiet and still. I suddenly felt the urge to hold him and revel in his firm presence just to remind myself of how real he was, of the mind-blowing effect he had on me. He’d become someone very important to me, and I wasn’t ready to contemplate the idea of losing him.
“Anjani, Bijarki,” he said.
Both joined us from the other side of Vita’s bed, their expressions grave and opaque. I was aware that they had their own issues with Azazel, and I realized that everything they’d heard described by the Oracles had had a massive impact on them, on their own hopes for a better future in Eritopia. Their survival was at stake, as was ours.
“I’d like both of you to join me for a private conversation in my study,” Draven told them. “We need to go over everything and recalculate some of our steps before going forward. Given these new visions, I think we’ll have to make new preparations for this campaign.”
Anjani and Bijarki nodded. I noticed the quick exchange of glances between the succubus and Jovi, who was still by Phoenix’s side, along with the Daughter. Bijarki looked at Vita for a brief moment before taking Draven’s arm and placing it on his shoulder to guide him out of the basement.
“I’m coming too,” I said, unwilling to let Draven out of my sight or myself out of such an important conversation.
I moved to follow, but Draven turned his head, enough for me to see the side of his face while his broad back towered before me.