A Whole New Beginning
A/N: I do not own any of the characters seen in the Gemma Doyle Trilogy.
"Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." - William Jennings Bryan (1860 - 1925)
Chapter Seven
The door to the realms towers above us. The noise from Spence Academy has disappeared. Impenetrable darkness. Silence fills the thick air hanging over us. I waste no time and open the door. Instead of the usual brightness greeting us, as what I have anticipated, the fog, crimson and vile, suspends on all realms, darkening the cheerful atmosphere.
My breath hitches. Dismay shows on all of my companions faces. Perhaps it is plastered on my face as well.
"It changed so much," Miss McCleethy breathes. Her eyes glazes. Fowlson moves to her side, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. I look away. I feel this odd sensation settling on the pit of my stomach. I cannot describe the feeling. Their moment, Miss McCleethy and Fowlson's, is too private and comforting as to what I am feeling now.
"Come." I declare. I lead them through the gardens until we reach the stream. Gorgon is there, waiting.
"Most High," she greets. I curtsy. I hear Felicity look for Pippa.
"What news, Gorgon?"
"It has started. The Tree of All Souls grows bigger. It consumed far too many sacrifices." I nod, taking the news, comprehending it.
"Gemma, what of Pippa? She has to be certainly around here."
"Felicity…" How would she react if she finds out that her friend, the person she loves the most, turned out to be a member of the Winterlands creature? What would she say if Pippa turns against us? What would she do? There are certainly choices to make. Some are unavoidable. Will she refuse the one thing her friend loves? Or will she give it?
"I think it is best if we continue forward. We can always look for her sometime later." I tell her softly. My eyes cannot look at hers; afraid of what will she read. I can feel her gaze, it is hot like a scorching metal, until it slowly pierces through and I tell her the truth. But I resist.
"But, Gemma…we are going to a fight. What if she is harmed? Laying somewhere there, helpless? What if -" I cut her off.
"Felicity. Listen to yourself! Those are just what ifs! If you want them, I'll certainly give you one. What if we do not make it and we die? What would happen to her if she is still living?" I retort. Her anger is now radiating.
"You are so utterly selfish, Gemma! You only look after yourself! You want the power. You solely want the power all to yourself!" Livid, she lashes out at me. I cannot say whether or not that is the truth. Perhaps I had some feelings before. But now? I cannot tell.
I turn my back to her, facing Gorgon. "Come." I order. "Gorgon, please take us to the Winterlands." My voice, full of ice, still wavers.
Felicity does not say much after that. We climb up to Gorgon as she steers to the Winterlands. I take on the captain position, right beside the head full of slithering serpents.
I still need Gorgon, Asha, Neela, the centaurs, the forest folks and other Borderlands creatures to help us in an alliance. Only I have the power; the rest, they will be fighting with their own brains and brawns, their fists and mundane tools.
As we near the Winterlands, the sky reddens. The blood of all sacrifices stains the purity of the sky. The imbalance of power tarnishes the desire of all these creatures, making them green with greed and selfishness.
The forest drifts slowly into view. It is aflame. The Winterlands creatures cackle and drunkenly chase the forest folks like mad pyromaniacs, waving torches everywhere I look. The fire is wild, growing taller and wider as it consumes everything in its path. The creatures scream frantically, running around the place, escaping from the ravenous fire.
"Gorgon, stop! Let's save them!" I shout, although the catastrophe drowned out my voice. I feel the ship come to a slower pace, and eventually it stops.
We save Asha and a few untouchables, the forest folks, Philon, along with Neela and other shape-shifters. The forest ablaze, the gardens lost its flowers, smoking and foggy; the water murky with dirt, blood and smoke. There are several centaurs that come up to the boat. We have to stop more than a couple of times since all these creatures are all scattered in the Borderlands. It is appalling. Chaos storms in the beautiful and magnificent place, disordering the natural way of life. It is pitiful. Truly saddening.
"Gemma!" Ann calls from behind. I turn to her from the front of the boat. It is packed now, with the centaurs, shape-shifters and hajins coming with us. It is late, but we have come to some form of alliance.
"Felicity! She is nowhere in sight!" She reports to me. Surprised, I scan the passengers of the boat. There are too much, but not enough to be able to defeat the Tree of All Souls and the Winterlands creatures. I stray my eyes further, looking for her distinguishable golden hair. No golden hair in sight. She has gone to look for Pippa.
"Inform the others, Ann. Tell Miss McCleethy," She is anxiously waiting for me to reply. "Make a quick stop, Gorgon. Do not wait for us." I say, watching Ann's retreating back.
The boat gradually ceases its moving, and Mr. van Ripple approaches me, his cape swaying with the blow of hot wind. "I will search for her." He says with such authority that it surprised me. "You go on ahead. They need you more. You will lead them to success."
I want to hesitate, to tell him that Felicity is my friend. That I know her more and that she matters to me more than she does to him. But his face. Seeing his face…so lonely, desperate. Yet it holds determination. More determined than supervising a spectacle. I knew that he desperately wants to go to the realms, along with other Rakshana. What I did not know, though, is how much this means to them. Or, perhaps he is the only one who is behaving this way. Perhaps there is something more behind the con illusionist that I did not get the chance to read.
-o-
Felicity's POV
I am angry. Livid! I cannot believe Gemma would easily disregard Pippa's well-being. Perhaps she is jealous, or mad even. Gemma says Pippa chose to live in the realms. I do not believe that reason, whatsoever. Pippa does not want to be away with me, does she? She returns my feelings, does she not?
Someone is following me. I can hear the footsteps. It is not familiar to me. I whirl around; my hands form a fist, coming in front of me to defend myself for any signs of danger. It is only Mr. van Ripple.
"What are you doing, following me?" I demand, my voice harsh and cold.
"Miss Doyle noticed your lack of presence. She stopped the boat to look for you, however Miss Worthington, I am oblige to search for you with or without her orders." I feel betrayed as it already is. Now, instead of Gemma coming to look for me, she sent the illusionist after me? I am beyond hurt. I do not even want to remark on what he meant by 'oblige'.
"Well. It's Felicity!" I hear Pippa's pleased tone. She must have arrived while I was talking to Mr. van Ripple. Both of us look at her. There is something in her that changed. I am not sure if I was oblivious to it or if I just did not want to recognize it. But I can tell that this is not Pippa. Her beauty, it surpasses any kind out there and it is mixed with an unfamiliar taint. Perhaps it is magic?
Suddenly, I become more aware of my surrounding. Maybe it is because of the fire and smoke that this place is not recognizable, but I can make out the glass shards sticking out of the ground. The once most magical place in all realms. The magnificent beauty that captured my attention and took my breath. I have arrived where the runes are located.
Mr. van Ripple rapidly approaches Pippa, putting himself in between me and my friend. He takes out his wand that he used during his magic show, then with authority that I do not know he possessed, he speaks out, "Speak, you vile creature."
I am appalled. She is my dearest friend and he dares speak rudely to her? I glance at Pippa, wondering how she will take it. She just smiles. Menacingly. She looks at me, her smile turns sweet, but taunting. Her eyes, when she locks it with mine, it is so cold. It turns grayish-blue. The purple eyes that I love so much are buried inside the corpse.
Mr. van Ripple wasted no time; he attacks her, the wand pushed to her neck, choking her. He does not even wait for her answer. I scream. What are they doing? I see Pippa struggling to get the wand of her neck. She shouts my name. I stand there, frozen.
"I have the power. I am the chosen one." Pippa's voice booms. It is hollow, frightening. I see her touch the wand, break it in half. Her arms snake around van Ripple's neck and pulls him towards her. Her mouth comes to the side of his neck, opening and I can see fangs dripping with venom and lust. She punctures his neck and I see droplets of blood slowly flow.
I am deaf and blind and mute. I cannot scream in fright, much less utter a single word. I cannot hear the deafening cry of terror and I cannot see the glowing beauty of power. I am rooted at my place, no one to shake me and bring me to my consciousness. Grunting at the force when van Ripple kicked her stomach, Pippa releases her hold on him, rolling over and exerting so much power that I cannot ever imagine.
I am thrown back, like a lifeless doll. Too much pressure. Too much power. I will myself to stand, wincing every now and then. I had not anticipated that kind of force. What had become of Pippa?
She slowly stalks Mr. van Ripple who is coming to his feet. She grabs a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up. She murmurs something to him and I see him smirk. Enraged, Pippa spits on his face and throws him aside, as if he is just a mere scrap of feather. His body slams against the runes and falls unconscious.
I am afraid now, terrified beyond my wits. I witness the side of Pippa that I refused to see. Gemma always pointed this out and I did not listen to her. That feeling is back, the one I felt before I went to the circus. That deep churning pit in my stomach. The swirling and bubbling of my blood racing in my veins.
"Come, Felicity. Sweetheart..." Pippa approaches me, bow and arrow in her hand. She gives it to me and I wonder what I shall do with it. She answers, "Let us sacrifice his life."
I jerk my head towards her. I have never killed! I wounded, but I never killed! That choice was left to Gemma by Circe!
My eyes wide, I shake my head at her, softly, then it becomes more vigorous. I push myself away from her, scared and disgusted. She comes to me, stalking me like a predator to its prey, all the while talking to me in hushed tones. She is comforting me; wanting me to realize what became of her and accept her. She longs for me to join her.
I cannot. Gripping my arrows tight, I warn her to stay back. For a brief moment, I thought her eyes flicker with hurt. She keeps coming on to me, her voice growing stronger and harsher. I nock my arrow and, with unsteady hands, fire. It flies past her and grazes her cheek. Blood seeps out of her cut cheek.
Her eyes narrow, glaring at me through them. Her mouth pulls back, revealing the sharp incisors her teeth became. She lunges at me, her claws, what used to be long, dainty hands, find my neck and grip them. She lifts me up, until my feet do not touch the ground. My hands fly to her wrists, struggling to pull her hands away from the tight grip she has on my neck. I panic; my breath comes in my mouth. Dots start to cover my eyes. My legs dangle and I swing them, trying to kick her. To free myself of her hold. None of these tactics work.
Without any choice, I grab an arrow from my back then strike it down on her face. It bleeds. Her porcelain face bleeds, creating a cross with the previous cut I gave her. She staggers backwards, cupping her cheeks until her fingertips smoothes the angry red welts marking her face. She snarls at me, so inhumane, so beat-like. Her eyes glow red; her back hunches like a wild caved beast. As if sensing her unnatural habits, she straightens herself composed.
I am bewildered. What happens now? I am still panting, coughing and spitting from the bruise she gave my throat. I watch her, warily and without warning, her arms whiplashes forward, palms open and I am thrown back to the runes. I cry out in pain and agony. The sharpness of the shards digs in to my back, piercing it deep and long.
Pippa retracts her arms and I move forward, floating on thin air. I feel the streams of blood trickles down my back, my arms, my legs. I am out of breath, my vision blurs, but I cannot let it end this way.
She has strength, I have hope. She has power, and I have faith. She fades from my view and I drop to the ground, lying helplessly on my pool of blood. My crimson blood. My tainted blood. Mercilessly, she yanks me backwards, her mouth skimming the shell of my ear. She whispers, "You know whose fault it is that caused Ithal's demise?" My breathing grows labour. My heart ached for me. For him. Ithal. "Yours," she answers.
Continuing on, she whispers, "The fool…the idiotic fool is helplessly in love with you, Fee. He followed you around like a lost little puppy." She taunts, "But you know what was the cherry on top of my dessert?" No. I know, but I refuse to believe it. It is impossible. No! Seeing my wild, untamed eyes, full of fear, she leans forwards and catches my lips for a deep, passionate kiss. Releasing, with her face inches away from mine, she breathes the answer I dread, "Sacrificing him!" She cackles deviously, her head thrown aback. "The fool! Oh, how sweet is the sound of his scream. Like music to my ears. And his blood. Oh his blood…gypsy blood. So delicious. So decadent."
Enough of this nonsense! I am weak, but I must prevail. I tackle her, surprising her with the strength I am left with. And, straddling her, I grab her head; pound it on the ground, my mouth set on a grim line. "Do not, ever, mention his name." I emphasize each word with a strike on her head. I am furious. Livid! Livid enough that I see red, that I smell that salty copper of blood, that I hunger for the sounds of echoing screams. But she laughs. Gritting my teeth, I dig my knee to her stomach, choking her. She wriggles under me, but I slap her face, punch her. Damage her. Her movements become weaker; she may have the strength, but she knows not how to use it.
She lets out a tiny giggle, and I feel the imminent pain clawing at my back. I must end this now. I lean forward, circling my arms around her. She returns the embrace. With few moments, I am content, at peace. Not for long. She starts clawing at my back, peeling off the dress, my skin coming off with it. I cry, I shout, but she continues her torture. With the last ounce of power I have left, I let it out. Blinding light bursts from me, enveloping us with warmth as I scream my excruciating pain to the crimson sky. I am still hugging her, embracing her with all my might. I see her eyes drift close, her breathing evens out. I let fatigue surround me, my eyes closing. And with my last breath, I whisper, "I promised not to let you go and I never will."
-o-
Gemma's POV
The frosty winter in the Winterlands bites my skin as painfully as the scorching fire from the forests mars it. We have arrived after a few hesitations of going back for Felicity. I hear her scream; I see the light penetrate the red sky open. Ever since that moment, I cannot calm my jumping nerves. I have a dreadful feeling that I will not like the outcome of this gory war. When I saw the light, I knew, then, that Felicity triumphed over those creatures. After I finish my task, I am going to wait for her boast of how she defeated them.
We stand, unseen by the Winterlands creatures. They are busy offering innocent lives to the regal tree in the middle of the Winterlands. They scurry about, capturing souls and feeding them to the Tree of All Souls as it talks to them about how it will lead them to eternal greatness. Full of power, full of magic. Full of sacrifices and deaths.
I look at my companions. I gave them the orders whilst traveling on Gorgon. Ann and the centaurs will go east; Miss McCleethy and the shape-shifters will take on north. Fowlson and the untouchables will head south, and lastly – to my relief – Gorgon and the forest folks will travel west. As for me, I will take on the magnificent tree and Amar themselves.
We scatter to our stations, moving swiftly and silently as to not blow our covers. I sneak past the creatures, using magic to hide my true identity. My head is pounding, as thoughts and images fly at my what-if questions. I try to calm my breathing, but my heart is already hammering against my ribcage. In between the heads of the creatures, I spy the tree; however, Amar is nowhere to be seen. Excellent. When I defeat the tree, all these creatures, along with Amar, will all be defeated. Easy enough, I think. Since it is a tree and it cannot possibly do any harm to me.
A shout, then a fierce shriek is heard all over the northern Winterlands, ruining and dividing the glorious moment of the creatures. They turn to each other, bewildered. Birds start to raucously cry as these creatures grow restless. "She is here! I sense her power. Bring her to me!" The tree orders; Miss Spence's voice spreads over the land, silencing all whispers and noises. The Winterlands creatures lift up their weapons and hail all at once. It is a mutiny between the dead and the living.
The creatures stampede everywhere, rushing in haste to find me. I am still hidden, watching every move made. I see my allies closing in on the middle part. They are brave and strong. I can see them fight with all the valour they can summon. There are hundreds of thousands Winterland creatures, but I see that we will overcome them no matter how small our group is. It is a hundred to one, like the sun to the planets. That is how little we are.
They are busy searching. Now is my chance. Without taking off my guise, I run to the tree. "There she is!" The Tree of All Souls thunders. It sees me, despite the heavily layer of disguise I applied without using much power. I race to it, the creatures swarming around me. They screech and claw; wanting to hold me captive and sacrifice my being to their god. To feed it my body, blood and soul. To replenish its powers from mine. Big, small; large and skinny, no matter how I look at them, they are all the same. Dripping fangs. Bloody talons, red demonic eyes.
I slip and skid as I avoid the grasp of the creatures. Snow and ice mix, staining the ends of my skirt. The dagger, Megh Sambara, I hold it; clutch it in my palm. Too many voices entering my vision but I only have one goal.
The roots of the tree snap upwards, breaking my footing. It grabs my right ankle, holds me high; yet I do not loosen my grip on the dagger. I am swung about and my body folds, flounders and drops like a rag doll. I am at the bottom of the tree, the base of the giant roots surround me as they continue to fly, smacking even its own allies.
I look up from my position and I see Circe's helpless body encircled in a cocoon of sharp twigs and vines. Her eyes are closed, but she is breathing. Barely. In her hands lay the other dagger. From Wilhelmina.
I reach for it, my fingers numb from the ice and snow. I try to pry her hands open, yet her vise-like grip is too strong for my bloody, blistered ones. I pull at her fingers. One…two…three fingers when suddenly her eyes jolt open. Her eyes dilated, unseeing…untamed.
"Miss Moore…?" I whisper. Her eyes focus on me and, as the kind teacher I knew her to be, she smiles tenderly, the smile reaches her eyes, then her fingers uncurl.
"Choices, Gemma. Choices." She sighs. Fluttering her eyes close, then open. "Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." Choice. So many, sometimes none. It is a puzzle. A labyrinth. A trap. Yet, decision is where all power lives. I must choose one where there are some and must make one where there are none.
I hold the two daggers. Miss Moore, asleep, for all eternity. I rise to my feet, bringing my hands atop of my head; crossing them. I am ready to bring down the two daggers, ready to put an end on all this.
"Fool!" Deep roaring reaches my ears. Amar. He is here. I twirl, my eyes immediately locking with his blue-gray ones. My hands drop beside me, my eyes round. How can I even fight a skilled fighter? On a horse, no less? I retreat a step, and another, until I feel the bark of the tree scratching my back.
He raises his sword, my palms flatten; I turn my head, shutting my eyes.
Blood…
"Gemma!" Ann shouts.
Amar whips his sword down. I duck after a moment of being frozen. His blade marks my arms, my blouse stained with blood.
Soul…
I run away, behind the tree. Amar follows me on his horse. I hear the trotting of the horse's feet and I know he is right behind me, reaching out for me. I turn half way, slashing his arm with one of my daggers.
Sacrifice…
He does not flinch, but the trail of blood smears on his arm.
"Gemma!" More people shouting my name. Then, "duck!" I obey.
An arrow whooshes past my cheek, hitting the horse's behind. It neighs. More arrows follow, striking the horse until it falls, taking Amar with it.
Power…!
He jumps, more arrows fly in the air, aiming for my allies. My companions. My friends. They strike back; soon arrows rain down on us, hitting Amar's shielded body, prickling my own skin. I have to aim now. I have to aim properly. I draw back my arm and dart my dagger, hitting him between his collarbone. Right where his helmet ends and his cape begins. Right where the skull badge of Rakshana is pinned.
He drops to the ground, lifeless, after emitting a strange purple glow. I approach, slowly, my boots crunching the snow from my weight. My hand inches its way to the dagger, when his own seizes my wrist. I panic.
"No. Don't," he groans. "The Megh Sambara." I look at him, then at the dagger. He pulls the tainted dagger out, his blood running from it and dripping to the snow-covered ground. He mutters, "Megh Sambara…a god of protection against enemies." Then he gazes at me and gives me back the dagger. "Finish what my brother couldn't. Free me."
With the permission, I slay him. Without hesitation. But with promise and conviction. Another blood shed by my hands. But he is far from a sacrifice. He was willing to die. I didn't give the Tree of All Souls the satisfaction of gaining strength.
I turn away. Walking away as the blood spreads onto the snow. Now, the tree. I run, fast. Faster.
Gemma…
This voice. It is new, raw. It is familiar. Whose does it belong to? I keep running, the ice never breaks my stride.
Gemma…
I look around, confused. No one is in the vicinity. The Winterlands creatures are occupied with fighting my companions. So who –
Gemma…you must kill it. You must kill it as soon as you see the signal…
Signal? Who…what? I am meters away from the tree, my arm throbs painfully. But with my previous intention, I hold the two daggers, one on each hand. The cold wind pinches my cheek, the roots swat all over the place. I duck, I jump. I avoid the roots as they desperately chase me.
Just a few meters and I will reach it. Something catches my eyes. Light. A beam of light shoots upwards and pierces through the reddened sky all the way to the Borderlands. The light slowly spreads, but not quite reaching the crimson red atmosphere in the middle of the Winterlands. Above the tree where all blood is shed and all souls are devoured.
The runes…Mr. van Ripple…The signal! A gigantic root sweeps below me. I jump. Once again I raise the daggers and as I drop to the ground, I bring the daggers down, plunging them deep into the tree. I slice the bark, carving a long gorge on the trunk. It screams in agony, and the souls embedded slip one by one, escaping from their lengthy torture.
The tree bursts in light, I have to cover my eyes and turn my head away from the blinding intensity. It is a darker light compared to the one from the runes. The scream echoes in all Winterlands and the light conquers the crimson sky, piercing it as how the first light pierced the sky. The dark light spreads and merges with the lighter one. Dark and light, good and evil, Rakshana and Order…equilibrium is fulfilled.
Using my remaining strength, I take out the daggers from their deep embedment. The lights, which shot to the sky, surge to the daggers. I stare in wonder and amazement, hoping that there are no further threat remains. The daggers seep the vestige tail of light until they illuminate on their own will.
I look around. Done. The over production of snow melts from the heat of both light combined. The sky, from red to pinkish-blue, signals the beginning of twilight. I see Ann distances away from me. Miss McCleethy and Fowlson are still shadows away, supporting each other. Flowers and weeds spring from the ground where the grass, as green as jade, is visible. Gorgron and the creatures, both Winterlands and the Borderlands, seem to have made amends within the passing of time during the breakout of lights.
I am not disappointed at the outcome for these creatures since they are merely obeying what the Tree of All Souls ordered for them to do. They had no leader whatsoever, so their lives were in disarray. When Eugenia Spence came to take the place of their leader, they were given hope. Faith. Something to support their meaningless lives.
I wait for them to join me. I sit at the base of the tree, nursing my wounds. I already tucked each dagger inside my boots. I reach inside my pocket, and like other times, I take out the red cloth from Kartik. I smile wistfully, playing with the corners of the cloth. My eyes start to blur. I feel my heart wrench, but I am happy, nonetheless. I've done it, Kartik. I've freed your brother. Wait for me, love.
They gather around me, and I stand up. I look at each and every one of them. They all look worn out. Tired and sleepy. We all are. I motion for my allies to stand by me as I make a request. "I will put the power back inside the realms for all of us to use. Like how it was in the beginning and how it should always be." I start, their faces solemn. "There shall be no abuse of power; it will be equally distributed to all creatures – both Winterlands and Borderlands." They are listening intently.
I know that my plan does not equal to what Miss McCleethy foresees, but this is for the best. Better than sealing the power, owning it to oneself until rebellion uprises and greed rages. My plan involves trust and loyalty. It is a compromise and a risk that we all have to take.
-o-
As soon as we landed from Gorgon's ship, Ann, Miss McCleethy, Fowlson and I walk to the runes for Felicity. Like the rest of the realms, the smoke has diminished, the water sparkles like it has been sprinkled with diamonds. The land itself is blanketed with flowers – wild ones, common ones, and the lush green grass softens the ground, bending below our weight. The runes, like massive icicles dusted with stones and gems, sprout randomly from the ground below. We see all this, but no Felicity in sight.
Ann and I call her name. Sometimes teasing her with the anagram she came up with. When she fails to answer, Miss McCleethy tries to lecture her, chastise her. With lost hope, Fowlson takes the last turn. He threatens her with Polly, her wealth, with her title. But all is lost cost.
She could not have gone any where further. We separate our ways, it will bring more luck…more chance of finding her. I have a dreadful feeling about this. If what happened is what I thought happened, then I know that I am going to be numb. The shock would come later. The grieving, the heartbreaking. All of those would come later. But I must have hope. Hope is what pulled me through, and hope is what will support me later on.
I stroll slowly in the gardens. That is where she and Pippa usually spent their time. I notice the place where I saw her and Pippa passionately whispering to each other, loving each other. I part the thick ferns and tall flowers too see if she is inside. No. By the Temple, perhaps? I saunter the other way, enjoying the rays of sun warmly grazing my skin. A peek inside, and I found out that she is not in the Temple.
Then, it hit me, out of nowhere. Like an unknown badminton birdie dropping from the sky. Pippa. What has she done? And Mr. van Ripple. He said that he was going to go after Felicity. Both of them are missing. I know Mr. van Ripple died…but Fee?
I stop looking. I know that I will not find her no matter how hard I tried. I go back to the runes, waiting for everyone to return. Half hour later, I am joined by Ann. Another half hour, then two…all of us are here, without any signs of Felicity.
"Come on. I have one last place to go." They follow me. I lead them to the Caves of Sighs. My hands skim the circle and the hands in it.
"But…Gemma. She is not here." Ann whispers. Her face fills with confusion. She is closer to Felicity than I am. Or was. And I know that she will take this grief deeper than anyone else. Deeper than Martha's and Cecily's combined. I can only nod at her observation.
Taking the daggers from my boots, I place them outside the circle, parallel to each other. The Megh Sambara is studded with rubies, outlining the heavy gold of the handle. The blade is pure ivory, sharp and white. The buffalo head is engraved beautifully, full of small details, on the front of the handle. It has been showered with diamonds, big and small alike. The dagger Wilhilmina gave me is the complete opposite. It is encrusted with sapphire, the handle made of pure silver. The blade is granite, engraved with Latin phrase. Porro Ago. In the front, a Celtic head is carved. Taranys. Like the Megh Sambara, Taranys is showered with diamonds.
Megh Sambara. God. Protecting lives.
Taranys. Goddess. Sacrificing lives.
The rubies symbolize the never-ending struggles. The hardships. War. It also symbolize love. Passionate and infinite love. The sapphires represent unlimited supremacy. Control. Power. Another meaning is wisdom - loyalty. Last are the diamonds. White. Denoting purity.
One last treasure. I take off my amulet – the Crescent Eye. I bind one end of the chain on the handle of one dagger and the other end on the second dagger. I let the amulet dangle in between, just in front of the two hands intertwined.
Then, I am lost in the infinite tunnel of light.
A/N: Please Review
Next on A Whole New Beginning:
The secret of Mr. van Ripple is revealed. Gemma tells her father that she will go back to India to look for Kartik. Will she be successful?
Stay Tuned!
