[Alright well, the story is coming to a close soon and I've thought long n hard about the ending n Im debating whether to go for a sequel, I think i'll need about 50+ reviews before I will tho0 so get typing if you want me to keep going. But anyway on with the chapter...]
The wind and rain had been slashing the window for days and nights on end. I couldn't even see the mountains through it's shimmering haze. Not that I'd looked. I knew the October rain would be drowning the green moors. Much like the tears on my pillow...
I'm not sure how long I had been in my bedroom, not moving more than a yard from my dampened bed. The storm seemed to have lasted for days and the muggy darkness it bought to. It projected my mood perfectly. But that didn't take away the ill lethargy or cold sweat that I just couldn't shake.
But I was past crying now. Past screaming and whispering and whimpering: spells, curses, jibberish, names. His name...
I heard a tap at the door. I had heard several of these over the hours and days I had been here, each one followed by my Mother's nervous calling of my name.
'Morgan,' Killian poked his head around the door. I ripped my gaze away from the window and looked towards my brother. 'Just to tell you, I'm off. Everyone else is out, but Dad said I could borrow his car, so...' He trailed off, losing grip on his small talk.
I sniffed and looked away, deciding on the cold indifference approach, 'S'pect he was glad to see you go. Cluttering up his sofa, sucking up his energy.'
'Yeah,' he replied, getting a glint in his eye, 'I think I heard Selene offering to get the champers in when they were walking away.'
I turned and saw his cheeky grin and my face cracked into a mona-lisa smile. Like a trickle through a Dam, and before I knew it, the floodgates broke and I had by arms around my brother and my head in his shoulder.
I couldn't hide the full extent of such a heartbreak from Killian and bore my tears soaking his designer shirt. I heard my chest thumping again, but it only made me feel more hollow. 'Why?! Goddess, WHY did I have to be born to this? Why a Woodbane? Why a bloody MacEwan?! Murderers...'
I was bearly aware that the questions I had been begging the answers to for days were pouring out before I could stop them. But they didn't seem to alarm Killian, or offend him. He just stood there, hugging me and after a second he sighed deeply, 'I think we've all asked that at one time or another,' he paused, seemingly thinking and I was left to marvel at the fact that my brother had ever been as ashamed as I felt of our family, 'look, I don't want to know what's gone on between you and this visitor,' as first I thought he meant Cal, and I was just thinking how wrong he was when I realised that he was not that stupid, afterall, he was there at Blue's, 'but I realise it's a bit late for me to just tell you to be careful and expect you to be fine. Just...hold up, ok?' He finished and kissed me on the forehead. I sniffed in reply, I couldn't think of anything else.
'Kill', where are you gonna go?' I asked, almost needily as he turned out of the door.
He turned back, and he was transformed back to the cheeky, ladies-man that everyone outside this house knew and adored. 'Wherever a fine young woman's skirt blows up that bit too high, I'll be there. Whenever someone is getting in an extra round of vodka shots, I'll be there-'
'Okay, sorry I asked,' I laughed for the first time in a week.
He grinned, kissed me on the forehead again and left. I watched from the window as he merrily walked around to Dads car, lugging his lone sports bag and singing along to an old Scottish folk song that I couldn't remember the words to. I watched as he tore up the village path, already over the speed limit as a lonely tear slipped down my cheek.
*
I must have been asleep when everyone got back, because all I remember is my Mum sitting on my bed, stroking my hair back off my forehead. It seemed to be a standard mum reflex to do this when they saw their child looking sick or unhappy. I just lay there, staring around groggily, while she gazed at me.
'Killian's gone,' she said distractedly.
'Yeah, I know. He came and said goodbye when you lot went out,' I informed her. I saw now that she had tears in her eyes, and there were damp patches around her beautiful Gaelic green iris's. I wondered if Dad had talked to her about me and Amyranth. 'Oh, that's good,' she started again in the same misty tone, 'he should have been able to-'
'Mum', I interrupted, 'what's wrong?'
Just as she opened her mouth to speak I heard a shout from somewhere downstairs, 'Sgiurs dan, could you come here please.' Dad.
Mum looked almost frantic as I crossed the room to the door. I nearly expected her to jump up and pull me back. I knew something was going on. Dad knew I hated my coven name, and he rarely used such a companding tone of voice in the house. Then a terrible thought struck me: the Amyranth witches must be here. Here to size up a new piece of meat. No wonder Mum looked so panicky. So do you, said that little voice as a lump rose in my throat.
Surely enough when I got downstairs the hall was empty but for five figures, whispering feverishly until I was sensed and they were silenced. I recognised them all instantly even for the animal masks three of them donned. Da stood in front, and Selene was behind him, the left most of the semi circle. Then there was Alicia behind the Owl face; Addison Baird (how easy to guess, his weezing was unmistakable) as the viper and then the tiger, Edwitha of Cair Dal. I took a deep breath.
For a second the whole hall was silent, just the group infront of me scanning me up and down with more intensity than they ever had, and the faint sound of weeping coming from above the staircase. I looked up at Dad from my fixed stare at the tiled floor, seeing how he would deal with it. His face was stoney, deaf to anything outside of this space. I felt annoyed at him, couldn't he see how his wife, his soulmate was hurting up there?
'Sgiurs dan, I have informed my colleagues that you have expressed an interest in studying for our coven,' started Dad formally, as the sound of crying continued and the butterflys wriggling in my stomach doubled in size, 'is this true?'
I looked at him, and around at all the other figures infront of me. Dad looked strong and proper, though I could see pride glittering behind his eyes, but I could sense his uncomfort at hearing Mums sobs. Selene had a hungry, almost feral look in her golden eyes, and she was obviously eagerly awaiting the power I had to bring, as well as the obvious insane jealousy. The others had there faced covered but from what I could sense, they seemed the same,just with a far icier exterior and annoyance at the weeping that seemed to be ruining the occasion.
And all this took place in a heart beat. 'Yes, yes that's right,' I replied, trying to sound strong infront of these people that could sense and exploit weakness in a second.
Dad then began explaining a minor oath that I would have to take and seal with blood. I don't know for how long he spoke, for I was lost in my own head, where all I could hear was my Mothers sobs. All this because a Seeker had come to town.How tragically ironic. I never figured this day would actually come, I always thought I would worm out of ever having to make a decision on my future. I know Da always had such great ambitions for me, but I got so sick of hearing about how great I was going to make Woodbanes and our family in particular, I mostly just agreed without taking any of it in. And, to be honest, I never really believed him. I had heard so much about my powers, my legacy, my incredibility, that that's exactly what it all became, incredible. Something to inflate my ego so that I would do Amyranths bidding and continue the family line. I had partook in dark spells before but nothing sinister enough for death, because you always feel it, death, when it comes to you or to another at your hand. Even if you're at separate ends of the Earth and surrounded by a circle of hundreds, you feel it like a gale force wind blasting you away, one for each soul you set free, to just be chained and tethered forever to the dark cloud that freed it. These people infront of me enjoyed that feeling, like a junky getting hit again and again. The whole idea always scared me, I always just thought if I was pressured into something like this then Killian and I would run away somewhere and live happy and forever-youthful lives. But Killian was far away and the only way forward was here, now, as a death-dealer, a true Destroyer.
In my coma-like trance, a few words in my Dads sermon reached my ears and broke through my conciousness, '...you must renounce the council, and all the evil they do to our kind...' The council. Those people that I was meant to hate. And those people that I did hate until a few days ago. Until that Hunter Niall walked into my life like a wrecking ball. Just staying there, down in the village, without a thought for his own mortal danger...Down in the village, where his warm arms would be, and his soft lips and pale, severe, proper English accent and green eyes. Green as the Irish hills...
'Morgan?' Was the first thing I heard then. I stared emptily at the man infront of me who had said it, and at the confused, irratated expression on his face. I had not been listening.
Then I did something I had never once done before. I walked away from my father as he was speaking to me. In fact, I walked to the front door and out of it, and on to the frozy, dark path that led away from the house. All in such a daze I didn't notice the wind whipping around and numbing my cheeks, or my Fathers yells to me as I strode away. I knew my path now, this path, and I knew it would take me to somewhere warm and safe and loving and sexy. Somewhere that would not make my mother weep, or my father scan me with fierce pride. Somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was in the arms of my soulmate.
[There we are! Finally did it, but be warned this is not the end of this story, no, still one more chapter to go! Oh, I'm looking forward to the reviews for that one!]
The wind and rain had been slashing the window for days and nights on end. I couldn't even see the mountains through it's shimmering haze. Not that I'd looked. I knew the October rain would be drowning the green moors. Much like the tears on my pillow...
I'm not sure how long I had been in my bedroom, not moving more than a yard from my dampened bed. The storm seemed to have lasted for days and the muggy darkness it bought to. It projected my mood perfectly. But that didn't take away the ill lethargy or cold sweat that I just couldn't shake.
But I was past crying now. Past screaming and whispering and whimpering: spells, curses, jibberish, names. His name...
I heard a tap at the door. I had heard several of these over the hours and days I had been here, each one followed by my Mother's nervous calling of my name.
'Morgan,' Killian poked his head around the door. I ripped my gaze away from the window and looked towards my brother. 'Just to tell you, I'm off. Everyone else is out, but Dad said I could borrow his car, so...' He trailed off, losing grip on his small talk.
I sniffed and looked away, deciding on the cold indifference approach, 'S'pect he was glad to see you go. Cluttering up his sofa, sucking up his energy.'
'Yeah,' he replied, getting a glint in his eye, 'I think I heard Selene offering to get the champers in when they were walking away.'
I turned and saw his cheeky grin and my face cracked into a mona-lisa smile. Like a trickle through a Dam, and before I knew it, the floodgates broke and I had by arms around my brother and my head in his shoulder.
I couldn't hide the full extent of such a heartbreak from Killian and bore my tears soaking his designer shirt. I heard my chest thumping again, but it only made me feel more hollow. 'Why?! Goddess, WHY did I have to be born to this? Why a Woodbane? Why a bloody MacEwan?! Murderers...'
I was bearly aware that the questions I had been begging the answers to for days were pouring out before I could stop them. But they didn't seem to alarm Killian, or offend him. He just stood there, hugging me and after a second he sighed deeply, 'I think we've all asked that at one time or another,' he paused, seemingly thinking and I was left to marvel at the fact that my brother had ever been as ashamed as I felt of our family, 'look, I don't want to know what's gone on between you and this visitor,' as first I thought he meant Cal, and I was just thinking how wrong he was when I realised that he was not that stupid, afterall, he was there at Blue's, 'but I realise it's a bit late for me to just tell you to be careful and expect you to be fine. Just...hold up, ok?' He finished and kissed me on the forehead. I sniffed in reply, I couldn't think of anything else.
'Kill', where are you gonna go?' I asked, almost needily as he turned out of the door.
He turned back, and he was transformed back to the cheeky, ladies-man that everyone outside this house knew and adored. 'Wherever a fine young woman's skirt blows up that bit too high, I'll be there. Whenever someone is getting in an extra round of vodka shots, I'll be there-'
'Okay, sorry I asked,' I laughed for the first time in a week.
He grinned, kissed me on the forehead again and left. I watched from the window as he merrily walked around to Dads car, lugging his lone sports bag and singing along to an old Scottish folk song that I couldn't remember the words to. I watched as he tore up the village path, already over the speed limit as a lonely tear slipped down my cheek.
*
I must have been asleep when everyone got back, because all I remember is my Mum sitting on my bed, stroking my hair back off my forehead. It seemed to be a standard mum reflex to do this when they saw their child looking sick or unhappy. I just lay there, staring around groggily, while she gazed at me.
'Killian's gone,' she said distractedly.
'Yeah, I know. He came and said goodbye when you lot went out,' I informed her. I saw now that she had tears in her eyes, and there were damp patches around her beautiful Gaelic green iris's. I wondered if Dad had talked to her about me and Amyranth. 'Oh, that's good,' she started again in the same misty tone, 'he should have been able to-'
'Mum', I interrupted, 'what's wrong?'
Just as she opened her mouth to speak I heard a shout from somewhere downstairs, 'Sgiurs dan, could you come here please.' Dad.
Mum looked almost frantic as I crossed the room to the door. I nearly expected her to jump up and pull me back. I knew something was going on. Dad knew I hated my coven name, and he rarely used such a companding tone of voice in the house. Then a terrible thought struck me: the Amyranth witches must be here. Here to size up a new piece of meat. No wonder Mum looked so panicky. So do you, said that little voice as a lump rose in my throat.
Surely enough when I got downstairs the hall was empty but for five figures, whispering feverishly until I was sensed and they were silenced. I recognised them all instantly even for the animal masks three of them donned. Da stood in front, and Selene was behind him, the left most of the semi circle. Then there was Alicia behind the Owl face; Addison Baird (how easy to guess, his weezing was unmistakable) as the viper and then the tiger, Edwitha of Cair Dal. I took a deep breath.
For a second the whole hall was silent, just the group infront of me scanning me up and down with more intensity than they ever had, and the faint sound of weeping coming from above the staircase. I looked up at Dad from my fixed stare at the tiled floor, seeing how he would deal with it. His face was stoney, deaf to anything outside of this space. I felt annoyed at him, couldn't he see how his wife, his soulmate was hurting up there?
'Sgiurs dan, I have informed my colleagues that you have expressed an interest in studying for our coven,' started Dad formally, as the sound of crying continued and the butterflys wriggling in my stomach doubled in size, 'is this true?'
I looked at him, and around at all the other figures infront of me. Dad looked strong and proper, though I could see pride glittering behind his eyes, but I could sense his uncomfort at hearing Mums sobs. Selene had a hungry, almost feral look in her golden eyes, and she was obviously eagerly awaiting the power I had to bring, as well as the obvious insane jealousy. The others had there faced covered but from what I could sense, they seemed the same,just with a far icier exterior and annoyance at the weeping that seemed to be ruining the occasion.
And all this took place in a heart beat. 'Yes, yes that's right,' I replied, trying to sound strong infront of these people that could sense and exploit weakness in a second.
Dad then began explaining a minor oath that I would have to take and seal with blood. I don't know for how long he spoke, for I was lost in my own head, where all I could hear was my Mothers sobs. All this because a Seeker had come to town.How tragically ironic. I never figured this day would actually come, I always thought I would worm out of ever having to make a decision on my future. I know Da always had such great ambitions for me, but I got so sick of hearing about how great I was going to make Woodbanes and our family in particular, I mostly just agreed without taking any of it in. And, to be honest, I never really believed him. I had heard so much about my powers, my legacy, my incredibility, that that's exactly what it all became, incredible. Something to inflate my ego so that I would do Amyranths bidding and continue the family line. I had partook in dark spells before but nothing sinister enough for death, because you always feel it, death, when it comes to you or to another at your hand. Even if you're at separate ends of the Earth and surrounded by a circle of hundreds, you feel it like a gale force wind blasting you away, one for each soul you set free, to just be chained and tethered forever to the dark cloud that freed it. These people infront of me enjoyed that feeling, like a junky getting hit again and again. The whole idea always scared me, I always just thought if I was pressured into something like this then Killian and I would run away somewhere and live happy and forever-youthful lives. But Killian was far away and the only way forward was here, now, as a death-dealer, a true Destroyer.
In my coma-like trance, a few words in my Dads sermon reached my ears and broke through my conciousness, '...you must renounce the council, and all the evil they do to our kind...' The council. Those people that I was meant to hate. And those people that I did hate until a few days ago. Until that Hunter Niall walked into my life like a wrecking ball. Just staying there, down in the village, without a thought for his own mortal danger...Down in the village, where his warm arms would be, and his soft lips and pale, severe, proper English accent and green eyes. Green as the Irish hills...
'Morgan?' Was the first thing I heard then. I stared emptily at the man infront of me who had said it, and at the confused, irratated expression on his face. I had not been listening.
Then I did something I had never once done before. I walked away from my father as he was speaking to me. In fact, I walked to the front door and out of it, and on to the frozy, dark path that led away from the house. All in such a daze I didn't notice the wind whipping around and numbing my cheeks, or my Fathers yells to me as I strode away. I knew my path now, this path, and I knew it would take me to somewhere warm and safe and loving and sexy. Somewhere that would not make my mother weep, or my father scan me with fierce pride. Somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was in the arms of my soulmate.
[There we are! Finally did it, but be warned this is not the end of this story, no, still one more chapter to go! Oh, I'm looking forward to the reviews for that one!]