Dark Origins

Months later, after the second great war, I’m sitting by the fire, and the elder tells me that it’s time.

Time for my marriage, and it absolutely repulses me. I’ve had several marriage proposals because people think I’m a goddess—my eyes are different than anyone else’s, filled with a blue that’s unseen around our village.

I know why.

And Helena knew why.

But I promised a blood oath to take it to my death bed as she took it to hers.

“No.” I get up, and then I look over my shoulder, and out of spite, I say his name again. “Sariel, you are meant for me.” I level my chin. “You’re my fate. Whatever that will mean in the end, it will be ours.”

I turn around and walk into my tent as purple tears flow down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away, knowing I can’t let anyone else see the gift that has been given.

One of sight I never wanted.

And one who knows what will come in the next seven years, where the Watchers will be no more, and I will be his downfall.

They’re only dreams, I tell myself, but Helena always said dreams can predict your future; after all, she predicted his. Maybe she was a bit of a witch, like everyone said? Or a Priestess?

I don’t know.

All I know is that when I close my eyes, I see his face.

It’s perfect.

His eyes flash as he looks down at me.

And when his lips touch mine, I know I will be lost forever.

SEVEN

Sariel

I felt her death in my soul, and then something burned in my chest; it burned bright. I wanted to move, to touch my armor to make sure something hadn’t gone dreadfully wrong.

Instead, I felt that my heart had sped up again, just like it had with… someone, something I can’t remember, something my brain no, my heart has blocked it.

A tear slides down my cheek, and I pray for the Creator to stop her suffering, to take her home.

Instead of watching, I lift my hands toward the heavens for this woman I don’t think I know but feel like I should.

And my brothers in arms, lift their arms with me as the heavens carry her soul home.

A brief flash of blue occurs, and I know it is well.

It is well with my soul.

And hers is now where it belongs.

I don’t know why I cry.

I don’t know why Bannik puts his hand on my shoulder or why Azeel turns away and whispers a breath of a prayer.

I know I should remember, but all I can see is her face.

Rather than her words—my memory conjures up her touch.

My downfall.

My eyes snap open.

My downfall.

The war has ended. It’s been days, possibly months; time moves differently on the mountain.

And then I see her again, the one with bright blue eyes, as she looks up at me as if I’m supposed to do something. She’s holding someone’s hand; it’s a man.

I reach for my sword; I hold the hilt and wait for the Creator to come down and tell me that I’m allowed to kill that man for touching her.

Mine?

What is this word in my head?

But she is.

That girl, now woman, I am meant for her, I know it but can’t speak it, confusion wars with rage that he’s touching her, and when they go into her tent, and the lights go down, I tremble, my wings spread out dripping with red.

“Calm yourself,” Bannik commands.

I stare, wishing I had the gift of sight, and then thankful that I don’t.

I think I want to take a step when Uzza directs my attention back to the mountain, and once again, I’m focused.

Once again, I know my purpose.

It isn’t her. I tell myself.

“Oh, but it is,” my heart responds. “It will always be.”

EIGHT

Nephal

Seven years later…

I fall to my knees.

Why haven’t they saved us?

The heroes of old?

Why do they stay on the mountain?

My husband died in the last war, it was an arranged marriage, but at least he gave me my son.

I cover my child’s body with mine, only to have him ripped out of my hands by a barbarian. “No! Please, I’ll do anything!”

The barbarian scowls, his braids dangle by his chin. “Anything, eh?”

“Please!” I crawl toward him and kneel at his feet. Dirt cakes my fingernails, ash burns my eyes. “Don’t do this, don’t hurt my child, please!”

With a grin I know he enjoys, he tosses my only child with the rest, the flames come up, and then he holds me while I watch. I struggle against him, fighting, scratching.

I cannot bear it.

I cannot.

I wail, I scream, and then my child is gone.

The flames lick up the rest of the bodies as I whisper, Sariel.

Suddenly a thunderous roar comes from the mountain; the barbarians stumble back and look up as the earth starts to shake beneath our feet.