The Prophecy

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Authors: Desiree Deorto

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: The Prophecy
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The Prophecy

 

by

Desiree DeOrto

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

 This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Desiree DeOrto

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

 

Editor: Anna Gorman Coy

Cover designer: Regina Wamba

 

 

 

 

For my children: know that no matter what life throws at you that you can still accomplish everything you've ever dreamed of.

 

AND

 

For all the dreamers, believers and non-deceivers.

I salute you.

 

C
hapter One

 

June 26th, 1691

 

 

Sarah's hands trembled as she read the stones once again. Yes, all the stones spoke to her of a child, her child that would soon come into the world. She didn't need a midwife to tell her that her cycle
was late, or that she would soon bear the swelling of a child that would flourish within her womb. The stones confirmed what the fates had written, what the prophecy foretold, and what her soul screamed into the darkness.

She sat there silently, cross legged before the rough stone table. A mix between overwhelming despair and joy swept through her in a violent vortex. Pulling her emotions from one edge of the spectrum to the other. Tears filled her large violet eyes, trailing down her lily white cheeks. The grain of the dirt floor started cutting into her palms, the pain bringing her slowly out of her reveries.
 

With a soul felt sigh, she stood, brushing the dirt form her white sacred robes. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked longingly once more at the stones, almost taunting herself with the bald truth.
It has begun
, she thought as she turned away from the table. She left the dwelling without a backward glance, taking the first steps that would lead to the end of her life and the beginning of another. Just as the prophecy foretold.

Rain fell in pounding waves. The cold drops causing mist to rise when they hit upon the warm earth. The fog danced in the night, resembling ghostly forms that seemed to sway beneath the blood red moon. The graveyard was washed in flickering shadows. The red glow of a fire pulsed at its center like a beating heart, creating a symphonic display of light and dark. She silently moved amongst the headstones toward the light. The shadows seemed to dance around the fire, like heathen beings praying to a god of old, pulsing along with the flames. Creating a web of power all their own that radiated along the mist shrouded earth, causing the swirling gray to move erratically.

A shiver crept down Sarah's spine as she stopped beside an angelic monolith. The angel gazed down at her, seeming to reach out toward her. Sarah wondered if he knew what was about to happen, and was seeking some way in which to comfort her, assist her. She slowly removed the hood from her raven black hair. Her violet eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the scene in front of her.

Black cloaked figures stood in a circle around the fire, seeming to draw the shadows to them. Twisted animal masks shrouded their faces, creating a grotesque feeling of evil. She drew her cloak tightly around her, trying to keep out the chill that seemed to permeate everything.

A lone form stood out from the circle. He was the only unmasked figure. Her heart wrenched as recognition hit her.
Merlo
, her heart cried as despair hit it, causing it to fracture under the weight of his betrayal. His hands were outstretched before the blaze. Head thrown back with eyes closed he faced the blood moon riding high in the sky. Power seeped from him, coming off in dark waves. The followers seemed to sway along with the power emanating from him, enveloping him.

Sarah drew in a deep, fortifying breath, and gently laid her hand upon her stretched abdomen, taunt with The Prophecy's child. The babe moved quickly against the pressure, creating a comforting, fluttering sensation. The love she felt for her child filled her, giving her strength. She didn't know how far they were into the ritual. By the amount of power radiating off of Merlo she knew she had to act now, before all hope would be lost forever.
 

With one last look of longing at the man she once loved, and one silent prayer for her unborn child, she stepped away from the shadow of the monolith. With her head held high, she walked into the circle.

The dark magic they were weaving seemed to pulse toward her, causing a fierce chill to pierce through her body. She silently stood watching the mob before her, ensnared in its power. Solely focusing on the evil they were creating. She stepped forward and couldn’t help but wince as a small twig snapped under her foot. The mob of followers stopped their chanting. Shocked, they turned their startled eyes toward Sarah. Some backed away in fear, others looked to Merlo for guidance. His hands dropped to his sides as he slowly lowered his head to look at her from across the fire. His molten silver gaze glowing with madness, with power.


So, my love, you have arrived at last.”

Shocked that he knew she would come, she stared at him, her eyes beseeching.
“Please, Merlo. What you are doing is madness.”


Madness?” he chuckled, “Oh Sarah, you were always such a fool. Power is not madness. Power is everything.” He whispered harshly, face tilted in dark rapture. “With you here, it shall be far easier to overthrow the coven and their idiotic ideals than it would be trying to take them by force.”

She shook her head in denial, the fractured parts of her heart shattering while a lone tear slowly fell from her large eyes.
“I cannot let you do that.”


Oh, but my love, you do not have a choice.”


There is always a choice Merlo, and I have already made mine.” With an outer calm that did not reflect her inner turmoil, Sarah gestured to her fellow coven members whom were hidden deep within the shadows of the graveyard and surrounding wood line. As they revealed themselves, Merlo's followers shuffled closer to him while looking around frantically. Their wide eyes and jerky movements lent a sense of hunger to their already grotesque masks. Like a pack of rabid wolves, waiting for the call of their alpha.

The fevered glint in Merlo's eyes seemed to deepen. He silently laughed as one would toward the audacity of a child.
“You really believe that your meager group of witches and wizards will be able to stop me?” Merlo's blatant confidence instilled itself among his followers. Where previously they looked ready to run at the slightest threat, they now stood proud around the fire. Almost daring any to come nearer.


They may not be enough to stop you, but I am. They are more than capable of restraining your petty group of followers.” She stared steadily into Merlo's eyes as she slowly withdrew the Divinity Stone from within the folds of her cloak. The firelight seemed to live within the hard facets of the stone. Burning with a power more forceful than that which Merlo had called forth. The Divinity Stone lay amid a pentacle that was wrapped lovingly in the arms of a crescent moon. The silver glinted in the light, causing the crescent moon design to shine harshly.

Weariness started to dull the molten silver of his eyes.
“What trinket have you brought with you, my love?'


You know what I hold, and you know I have the power to wield it. Please, if you had ever loved me, then stop this madness and come with me.”


Come with you?” he said, anger brimming below the surface, causing the waves of power to pulse sporadically, feeding off the emotion like a parasite. “You mean surrender to you and have all of my powers removed? I think not.” He scoffed.


You reap what you sow, Merlo. It is either surrender to me now or have your power forever be trapped within the Divinity Stone. Choose wisely.” At her words, the coven members started to move forward. They slowly surrounded the group around the fire, causing them to cluster. Tension rolled off of everyone in waves, flavoring the air with a bitter taste. The two groups pulsed toward each other, both calling forth their magic. Preparing for battle.

Merlo stepped back from Sarah, smirking with superiority and blind confidence.
“I pick the third choice, my love.” At her raised eyebrow, he smiled menacingly, like a predator savoring the hunt. “For you to die.”

Sarah bit her lip against the pain those words caused her, feeling her soul shudder, and her body turn cold.
“So be it.” Her violet eyes hardened like amethysts. She threw back her cloak from her body, and started calling into her the power of the Divinity Stone, along with her own reservoir of sacred power.

Merlo's eyes widened as he took in her form, swollen with child.
“This cannot be.” He whispered in horror. “What have you done?”

His bellow of rage did not distract her from the spell she was weaving, even though one side of her mouth lifted up in a sardonic smile. The sounds of battle seemed far away to her, the smell of power emanating from both sides tinted the air. The long shadows of combatants locked in combat seemed to create a ballet among the ground and headstones. Still, Sarah weaved her spell, giving her life essence, knowing that she would die.

Rushing forward, Merlo looked on in shock as he hit an invisible barrier. Cursing, he sent volley after volley of spells toward her, trying to break through the barrier. Yet still, her power stayed strong and absorbed the magic he kept throwing at her, twisting it and morphing it into her own use.

The stone pulsated within her hands, causing Sarah's cloak and raven black hair to be moved by its power. The crimson stone starting the glow with its own light as it absorbed both her magic and Merlo's. Slowly, it started rising from her small soft hands, growing brighter with each pull of magic. The spell finally had enough strength to find its mark, and connected the stone to Merlo's life essence.
 

Merlo fell to his knees amongst the fog shrouded graveyard floor as agony enveloped him. Eyes wild, he looked at Sarah, freezing when he not only saw his life force flowing into the stone, but that of Sarah's too. Becoming weaker, Merlo started to crawl toward her, desperately trying to reach her. The madness started to dull from his eyes, fading the molten silver to a soft gray. A silent tear fell as the power that was turning him, driving him to the brink of madness, seeped from his body. He began to realize what he had done. Self-loathing spread throughout him as visions of everything he had done came back to him. Mocking him, torturing him. And Sarah, his Sarah had to take the blunt of it all. As he watched her body sway weakly within the pull of the Divinity Stone's power, a self-hatred, darker than any magic, filled him.

“Sarah—your life is draining into the Stone too—please, just stop—”

With the power of the magic being the only thing holding her up, she couldn't lift her head to look at him. Barely above a whisper
, she said, “I'm sorry it had to come to this, but you had to be stopped. If it takes my life to release you from the prison the power holds you in, then so be it.”

She fell to her knees as the final bursts of power was pulled within the stone. The barrier started to fade, then finally shattered as its power was pulled into the stone too. Merlo dragged himself the final inches toward her, and with shaking hands grabbed onto the edge of her cloak. Trying to pull the final centimeters toward her to where he could hold her for the very last time.

Panting from exertion and with cold sweat dripping from his face, he looked up at her, pain and regret shining in his eyes. “When the last of me is swept into the stone, the power will once again consume my soul, and it will all be for naught.”

Tears flowed from her eyes as she weakly shook her head in denial.
“You may be consumed again, but it won't be for naught. You will be trapped for all eternity, and only those whose blood flows the magic of both our houses shall have the power to release you. None other than your daughter, and her daughters shall carry within them the strength to not only release you, but to destroy you as well. This is my promise to you, Merlo, my one love.”

She watched as the light faded from his eyes, his hand that was reaching gently toward her falling to the hard earth. The stone blasted one last time with crimson fire, then abruptly fell into her cold outstretched hands. With the last of the power faded, she fell onto the earth, lying beside Merlo, breathing raggedly.
 

The sounds of battle seemed to devour her then as she heard the cries of her own people and those of Merlo's. As they noticed their leaders' demise, the followers retreated into the depths of the forest. The coven swiftly followed, seeking to end all evil that day, but Sarah knew that evil would escape and grow stronger over time. Where there was good, evil always followed.

She moved onto her side, curling into herself as her body shuddered with the beginning pains of labor. Gasping, she clenched her eyes shut as the pain increased, tearing through her abdomen. She breathed in relief as her water broke, feeling the ease of pressure within her only to have her eyes widen as she caught sight of the blood. Her blood. There was too much, too soon.

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