Blood Moon: The Divided

Prelude: Faines' Pregnancy

Prelude:Faine's Pregnancy

         Heart clenching terror rose in Carissa's throat as the horse reared. She clung to the reins with white knuckled hands, feeling her body slip towards the ground before the horse righted itself. Another moan of pain made the young Witch dig her heels into the horses soaked sides once more. Lightning struck, making the dread trees whipping in the wind glow a brilliant white before going dark and a thunder crash drowned out the pounding of rain against the ground.

         The horse surged forward, ropy muscles straining to drag the small cart attached to it through the mud. Carissa could no longer distinguish between the tears falling down her face and the rain water that soaked her to the bone. Her body bounced rigidly on the back of the strong thoroughbred, screaming her lack of experience. A horrifying scream accompanied the next lightning bolt that tore through the sky and Carissa whipped her head around fast enough to see the pool of blood forming from Faine's body. She started to pull up on the reins but Faine shook her head, “Don't stop!” the other Witch instructed, breathless from labor.

         Unwilling to go against a direct order from a Warrior, the fifteen year old spurred the horse on. The terrified horse obeyed, leaping at the harness to pull the cart now stuck mid-wheel in mud. With an enormous pull it jerked forward uncontrollably.

         Careening down the path, Carissa bouncing violently on its back, the horse galloped towards its home coven. The teenager riding could to little more than cling for her life. Brilliant white flashed for a second and a figure was in the path in front of them. Carissa pulled up on the reins, screaming for the figure to move. The figure simply held out a hand and a brief glow of power marked it as a fellow Witch. Feet skidding in the mud, the horse obeyed, stopping withing a foot of the figure that Carissa could now tell was female. “Carissa Bejien, correct?” the woman asked.

         Carissa nodded. “Faine Post, in cart, labor!” the words poured out of her mouth without her consent.

         The woman stepped forward and grabbed the reins from Carissa's shaking grip. With another flash of lightning Carissa knew she was in the presence of Gwendolynn Post, the High Priestess of Blood Stone Coven. Faine moaned in pain but didn't acknowledge  her grandmother, Carissa couldn't tell if the woman even knew that they had stopped. 

         “The Coven is still an hours ride, we must birth the babe here. I've pitched a ten just off the trail. The wagon won't make it, help me unlatch it,” Priestess Post called to Carissa through the pouring rain, “ Quickly girl, she's lost a lot of blood!”

         Carissa let herself slid off the horse and bent to fumble with the latches the held it to the horse. Priestess Post ignored her efforts to try to get Faine standing. She was whispering to the near delusional woman but Carissa couldn't make out the words through the sound of rain hitting the ground. Priestess Post got underneath the weight of her granddaughter and easily supported most of the woman's weight, defying her aged appearance. “Hurry child, I'm no Healer,” the High Priestess called behind her when she reached the edge of the trail and Carissa was still struggling to free the horse from its burden.

         A moment of panic swallowed the teen and she touched the stubborn buckle that her fingers couldn't persuade to unlock. A spark of greenish-blue light jumped from her hand to the metal and it fell away with a sharp click; broken beyond repair. Grabbing the reins, Carissa barely avoided slipping in ankle deep muck as she scrambled to follow the High Priestess and Faine into the forest. Though they were no longer in sight Carissa could easily feel the two Witches in front of her and came to a tent within a few minutes of trudging through the thick underbrush of the forest floor. It took her frozen fingers a too long moment to securly tie the reins to a nearby tree before Carissa ducked inside the magically lit tent.

         Warmth washed over the girl and the noise she expected the rain to make on the canvass of the tent was non-existant. The High Priestess showed no sign of magic use but Carissa knew better than to assume that meant the older woman wasn't using her powers. “Faine told me that you've studied the healing arts, it's time to put theory to practice. Get down there, girl, help that babe,” the Priestess snapped from beside Faine's head.

         “No, NO! Take her to Bemeere, she's his. HIS!” Faine yelled and stuggled to sit up against the High Priestess's grip.

         Shaking her head, Carissa backed up with her trembling hands in front of her. “I've never--”

         “I don't care! We don't have time. If you want to be a Warrior then here's your first lesson: you have to do what you don't know you can,” the Priestess said, harsh voice softening as she looked into Carissa's tear filled eyes.

         Deep gray eyes closed for a moment. Carissa let out her held breath as her knees hit the mushy ground. Her hands were surprisingly steady as they came up to the crowning head of Faine's infant. “NO!” Faine's screech made Carissa pause for a heartbeat before she began to gently pull down on the infant's skull.

         “Calm yourself Faine, your child will be taken to the filthy animal. I will not have a Shifter at Blood Stone,” the Priestess's voice cut like ice and Faine finally stopped screaming.

         Shock made Carissa look up. A Shifter child born to a Witch? Such things were unheard of. Shifters were barely more than animals, it was disgusting to think a Witch had slept with one. Though the thought flitted across her mind Carissa couldn't bring herself to be disgusted with Faine, the woman who had given her a second chance to become a Warrior. Faine's smiling face, joyous laugh, and warming touch engulfed Carissa's thoughts as she turned back to her task. “Can you push?” she asked, placing a blood covered hand on Faine's bent knee.

         Her answer was an agonized scream but the baby's head moved into her hand. Carissa took a deep shaky breath as she gazed down at the tiny blueish face, unbreathing and unresponsive. “I don't hear her!” Faine gasped through gritted teeth, panic thick on her voice.

         “She's fine, Faine, focus,” Priestess Post cut in without a glance to Carissa, lying to her granddaughter with an ease that made Carissa's blood run cold.

         Twisting tiny shoulders as gently as possible, Carissa eased the rest of the baby our of the womb and into the world. The wet, slimy being flopped lifelessly in her hands. Gwendolyn looked down at her great granddaughter for the first time and shook her head in disgust. “Give her to me! Give me my daughter!” Faine begged, tears flowing freely down her cheeks to mix with bead of sweat.

         “Calm yourself, you've lost too much blood. Let the child go. It's best this way,” Priestess Post spoke more softly to Faine, love barely coming through in her harsh voice.

         Faine ignored her and struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. Her deep red hair clung to her face and neck, causing her to look younger and more helpless than Carissa knew her to be. “Give her to me, Carissa, please, give me my daughter,” she begged, eyes faint from blood loss but more focused than they had been since her labor had began.

         Teary gray eyes bounced between the High Priestess and Faine's desperate face for a second before Carissa ignored Priestess Post's glare and she handed the limp child to Faine's waiting arms. The High Priestess gave the teenager a cold look but said nothing. Swallowing back her fear and nerves, Carissa shuffled forward on her knees to be next to Faine's head. Sad green eyes lifted to Carissa's gray. “She's beautiful, so, so beautiful,” Faine whispered, gaze refocusing on the unmoving body of her child, “My beautiful Sarin.”
         Faine pushed her lips together and let her head fall back for a moment. Carissa felt the woman reach out for her magic a second before Priestess Post's eyes went wide with horror. “No!” the old woman screamed, as Faine leaned forward to place a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

         A spark of gold light ignited between the flesh of Faine's lips and that of Sarin's cold forehead. “Live, my darling,” Faine's whisper barely reached Carissa's ears.

         The awed teenager felt Faine's spirit leave the world with a quiet sigh. A moment later, tiny lungs gasped for air and bright gold eyes opened to see for the first time.

         Gwendolyn collapsed, a single sob escaping her chest, her only acknowledgment of love for her lost granddaughter. As Faine's hands slackened, Carissa pulled the still bloody Sarin to her own chest. Only then did the baby begin to cry. As quickly as she could, Carissa pulled a scrap of blanket from beneath Faine's body to clean Sarin. “What should I do with her?” Carissa whispered, afraid of the answer she might receive.

         “Clean her up and find another dry blanket to keep her warm for the night. We will deliver her to her father come morning,” the High Priestess's voice had returned to it's chilled state.

         Carissa ignored the negative tone. She gazed down at the sobbing baby in wonder. A life for a life. It was impossible magic, should be impossible magic. No one loved someone to completely that they could selflessly die for them, it went against nature. Yet Sarin Alterra lived and breathed from her mother's sacrifice. 

         As Carissa gazed down on Sarin, still in awe and shock from her night. Her quiet moment was destroyed when magic so pure welled in the tent that Carissa thought her veins would burst under her skin from the power. Sarin wailed in discomfort, even Gwendolyn trembled with surprise for a moment. Pure magic in the form of specks of light, whirled in a spot in the corner of the tent, quickly forming into the silouette of a short, robed man. “Keeper,” Gwendolyn's whisper touched Carissa's ears before the old man materialized.

         “Evening Gwen, I'm so very sorry for your lost. Faine was a remarkable Witch,” the ancient man bowed his head to the High Priestess.

         Tears welled but didn't fall in Priestess Post's eyes. “Thank you. I'm sure you didn't venture out to pay your respects, Witches die every day in this war. Faine held no more power than they do,” Priestess Post's voice was rough with fatigue and anguish though it didn't show on her face.

         From beneath haggard eye-brows that drooped half-way down his face, Keeper peeled open pale blue eyes. Carissa immediately knew he had no sight in the regular sense and it made her fidget with discomfort. Power plused through the tent and Carissa could feel the lack of interest in her. She was nothing compared to what was happening. A wave of homesickness washed over the teen, Moon Shine had never seemed so far away as it did in that moment.  “On the contrary Gwen, your granddaughter has played a monumental part in history. You are correct on one count; I did not leave my home to pay dear Faine my respects. I came to greet Sarin, our savior,” Keeper interupted Carissa's thoughts of home.

         Wrinkled, age-spotted, hands reached towards the baby and Carissa handed her over wordlessly. “She is a monster,” Priestess Post spat.

         “Perhaps, but her heritage is what cements her place in this world,” Keeper held the baby in one arm and snapped the fingers of his other hand.

         A piece of parchment appeared from the spark he created and Keeper handed it to Priestess Post, letting the meaning sink in. Gwendolyn straightened as she finished reading. “Of course. Do we know who the other three are?” She asked, once more composed.

         Keeper shook his head, but a tiny smile said the opposite. Priestess Post closed her eyes in frustration but didn't push the matter. “Very well, I'll take her to Blood Stone. There's a family that just lost their baby to the whooping cough, I think Asja will take her in. I'll train her until she is ready to take her place in the prophecy. She will be safe at Blood Stone,” Priestess Post said as she held the parchment out to Keeper.

         The old man ignored the gesture to take back the paper. Instead he hobbled back over to Carissa and held Sarin out to her. Trembling hands took the child and Carissa beat herself up for showing fear. “Carissa Bejien, it's an honor. Remember, in your darkest hour you will rise up as a symbol of fire. You are where you are supposed to be,” he said kindly.

         Confusion colored Carissa's eyes. “I..I'm just..-”

         “You will know when you must. Gwen, share that with the Council, won't you dear? Save me a trip or asking poor DJ to run it for me,” and then he was gone.

         The air settled back to normal and Carissa drew in a huge breath. She looked to Priestess Post for reassurance, for guidance. Sighing, the woman spread a blanket on the ground and motioned Carissa over. “Who was that?” Carissa finally asked.

         “The Keeper of Secrets. He speaks the prophecy’s that come from Satirgin's soul. It's rare to see him in person. But that isn't important now, try to get some sleep Carissa. You've had a long day for a young Warrior. Tomorrow brings your first day of training at Blood Stone,” the High Priestess said warmly and lifted Sarin from Carissa's arms.

         That simple gesture seemed to lift a huge weight from Carissa's chest. She stripped to her undergarments and tugged a blanket over herself. As she laid down and closed her eyes one last question came to her mind, one that wouldn't rest. “Wait, Priestess, what does the parchment say?” she asked.

         “Sleep,” Gwendolyn said with a slight wave of her hand.

         Carissa was asleep before her body collapsed to the blanket. Gwendolyn thanked Satirgen for magic, she couldn't answer the girl's question. Not only was it forbidden to show prophecy’s to those outside the Council, she was sure she would start balling like an infant if she was forced to read her great granddaughter's fate out loud. She looked down into the golden eyes of Sarin, awake and alert, taking in the world. There was life, magic, there was Faine in those eyes and Gwendolyn's heart clenched with the knowledge she would outlive yet another of her family members. Swaddling the child in  the last blanket that wasn't soaked in Faine's blood, Gwendolyn placed her next to the peacefully sleeping Carissa.

         Again, Gwendolyn waved her hand and her infant great granddaughter fell into a peaceful sleep. Once alone, the High Priestess let the tears fall as she caressed her granddaughter's cold features. “I love you Faine. I wish I had said it more,” she whispered to deaf ears.

         Sniffling, Gwendolyn pulled the parchment from Keeper out of the inner pocket of her robe. Her eyes scanned the words again, a bitter-sweet peace overcoming her.
                   As we lay waste to our world a Core waits to save us all,
         Its split by quarters of the moon, apart by seasons, bound with blood,
         Only if the Core unites will Satirgin be saved from its destined fight,
         A Weapon, too powerful to be controlled, born last to an icy road
         The Murderer, glowing red in the fights dusky light, she’ll take her most important life
         Single Survivor of it all, the shadows hide her broken soul yet sunlight shows natures bite
         Without their sister, they fall apart, causing pain instead of giving heart
         Thrice they’ll try and thrice they’ll fail to quell the war’s awful wail
until they find the quartet’s forth, hidden in the Survivors heart
         In chaos always one is lost, a Sacrifice, with youth’s untarnished flesh
         Each wandering soul carefully placed, already breathing but the Sacrifice
         In death, the Core will be complete, given breath by a half blood beast,
         Once Weapon, Murderer, Survivor and Sacrifice unite in blood,
         The war will finally be won.’