Usual disclaimers apply.
Chapter Twelve
I find Blane slumped against the wall of my birth tomb. He's just out of sight from where Klaus confronted me. He's bleeding heavily from six stab wounds to his chest and another to his thigh.
He isn't healing, even though he said all daimons heal. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I can't lose him. I need more time with him, to learn more.
My healing flames burst to life on my palms and I kneel to help him.
"No Little Sun," he stops me with a hand; "We cannot heal each other."
"Then what can I do? Why aren't you healing?"
"I should've sensed the witches' approach, I should've protected you better than that," he speaks wetly; "For failing you, I apologize. I could not stop the witches from taking your brother and sister, but I have protected them. The energy required to do that is all this body has left, there is nothing the left to heal me."
"There has to be something I can do? Can't you take some of my energy?"
"That is witch magic, not daimon," he coughs and there is blood; "I do not have much time, please, listen carefully. My protection will end at dawn; you must find and rescue your siblings before then Little Sun."
"But I don't know how."
"Yes you do Little Sun, you will see. Now bend closer, look into my eyes. I do not know when we will meet again and I must give you the lessons you will need to learn to control you're developing powers."
I lean in as Blane instructs and stare into his brown eyes. He weakly raises one bloodied hand to cup my cheek. I wait, wondering how these lessons are going to work, and then his eyes change.
From soulful brown they turn vibrant red and I am mesmerized. Then his eyes shift to orange, then yellow; green, blue, and indigo follow. After that his eyes turn violet before a blinding flash of white. I reel back and cover my eyes.
When I can see again, Blane's eyes have returned to their natural color. In my head I feel a different kind of pressure, as if Blane is standing inside my thoughts. Similar to when I let Rebekah in, only this there is no tickle and it feels natural, as if Blane has always been there in the back of my thoughts.
*Now you will learn through my memories as you reach each new level of power. Until you understand enough of what it means to be a daimon, to teach yourself, I will be with you.*
I hear Blane's voice in my head, though he isn't speaking out loud. Then I am given a sneak peek at all the powers I have to look forward to. I've already mastered the healing physical wounds and fire. I also have the power to heal emotional wounds; I've just never used it and need training.
I've experimented in reviving the dead – Blane shows me there are limits and high consequences to this ability. An ability I have to wait for is control over the other elements; water, earth, and air. Then I can expect a form of telepathy and one day I'll be able to teleport during the day time at will. Eventually, I will even have the power to manipulate my reality – though to what extent Blane isn't certain of at this stage.
"Wow," I whisper as I open my eyes again.
Blane is out of my head now, the door to my future lessons firmly shut. He's breathing harshly; he doesn't have much longer which cuts my awe short.
"Your ability to see love, that is a gift all daimons share as well," he gasps out; "Use them well."
"I will, I promise," tears spring to my eyes as I grasp his hand in mine.
"Do not cry for me young one. I am a daimon. My body may be mortal, but I am immortal. We are as eternal as the love that made us. As long as we are near the five elements when it is time to take a new form, we will never die."
"I don't understand," I say, wiping away some of my tears.
"Watch, you will," he murmurs.
Then he coughs up more blood. He shudders, pulling his hand from mine. When he stills, his eyes close. He is dead.
I choke back a sob. I've never seen anyone die before – it's horrible.
Then I hiccup in surprise.
The light that was inside Blane is pouring out of his mouth and stab wounds. Bright orange and red light with hints of yellow and blue encase the beams that come from inside him. It's more powerful than natural sunlight, more alive than rainbows and prisms.
The light spreads swiftly, covering Blane's body, consuming him. I reach out and touch a tip of one beam. I feel heat, but it doesn't burn me, it doesn't hurt; all I feel is love.
This light doesn't fade or disappear, it hums and looks liquid. It doesn't smell of cloth or heating flesh, but a summer's day in a field of flowers. It gives off light, but doesn't glow, and warms me from head to toe.
In seconds, the light encases the body and Blane is gone. Around me I feel different elements responding. The heat in the stones is present for fire, earth and air are all around us, while water churns in the sewage system beneath us. From me, I feel a pluck of energy as the power connects to my life force. These new energies are pulled in and cocoon Blane's body, and then they begin to fade. When the last beam of light dwindles away, there is a tiny newborn boy where Blane once was.
This baby has pale dark skin – more white with a touch of brown than golden like Blane was. He has little hair, but what is there is brown and starting to curl. His features are narrower than what Blane's had been, though his bottom lip is rather big. When this boy grows up, he will look nothing like Blane. Except his eyes are still the soulful brown of Blane's and the same light burns inside him.
Baby Blane looks up at me and coos from his position on the cold, stone ground. A little cautiously, I pick him up, supporting his head carefully – I've only held a baby once before.
I haven't a clue what to do now.
"I'll take him little miss," a man's voice breaks my growing terror.
I turn to see an older, dark-skinned man with a crop of curly white hair. He isn't too wrinkled, but I'd place his age somewhere in the sixties. He has on a well-kept but old, brown suit, making him look like a jazz player from another era.
He's carrying a blue bag across one shoulder. In his hands he has a diaper and a blanket at the ready.
"Who are you?"
"Name's Nicholas Shoreman, miss. Once upon a time, I was his grandbaby, now I'm his Keeper."
Keeper. The term unlocks a lesson in my mind.
*Keepers are the humans who care for daimons, the ones trusted with our secret. Sometimes they are family members, sometimes they are strangers we've helped. They protect us, raise us, and love us when we're young. In return we take care of them, heal them, and our presence gifts them with a longer lifespan than other humans.*
My parents will be my Keepers, human or not.
"Here," I hand over Blane.
Having seen Nicholas in my lesson, I know I can trust him.
With more confidence and skill than I have, Nicholas accepts Blane from me. He lays the blanket on the ground deftly with one hand. He drops his bag besides it; then he kneels to dress Blane in his diaper. When that is done, Nicholas pulls out a blue onesie and gets the sleepy baby into that next. The entire time Nicholas talks to Blane like they're old friends, which I guess they are in more ways that I can grasp.
"Will he be okay?" I ask when Nicholas is standing up, baby wrapped securely in blanket.
"Course he will, he's a daimon. You're kind are always reborn when one body dies. Sometimes you'll live to a ripe old age and be reborn in your sleep. Other times you'll die young, for a good cause like Brady here did tonight."
"Brady?"
"He likes to be renamed each time he is reborn, still lookin' for a name that fits right if you ask me. Figure he looks like a Brady this go around," Nicholas tells me with a hearty laugh.
I smile ate him and wipe away the last of my dried up tears.
"'Spect you'll be needin' this," Nicholas hands over his bag.
"What for?" I ask, ready to refuse.
"Brady called me the moment he started dyin'. I got here in time to hear your little show down with Klaus Mikaelson. Apologize 'bout not comin' to your defense, I've had some run-ins with that there hybrid and they've never ended pleasantly for me. I especially couldn't risk it with Brady here 'bout to pass. Still I packed you some chow; help you reenergize to save those in danger."
"Thanks, but no amount of food is going to help me when I haven't the slightest clue where to start looking."
"Brady mentioned that you rescued some werewolf statue for a pack. Said somethin' 'bout you being joined with them in a bond to Luna. Also said if anythin' should happen to him to tell you she's the key. Does that help you?"
It does. Leo's pack had formed a bond with Luna using the blood of one family member to bind for the entire family. Aaron had given his blood, as our brother he'd connected Hope and I to Luna as well. Now I know why I saw a bond between the wolf statue and myself. All I have to do is figure out how to use that bond to locate Hope and Aaron; then I can fulfill my promises and be with my family. I tell Nicholas so.
"Well then, best of luck to you. Oh and if you need a ride, Brady's old bike is parked just outside the main entrance to this place. Return it there when you're done, I'll get it when I can."
"Thank you," I wave until Nicholas and baby Brady are out of sight.
Then I sling the bag over my shoulder and head for the main entrance to Lafayette cemetery. I have a family to save.