Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1) (2 page)

“People
can start out one way,
and
when life gets
done with
them,
they’re
someone
else.
As
I
lay
dying,
those cautious words
echoed
through my subconscious
mind
as the dreams came
again.
Strange
and terrible
dreams,
ripping
me from
the peaceful
slumber
I
so
desperately
sought.”

~
Jenevier

Chapter Prologue

“I feel a great darkness approaching, Mother. Have you seen nothing? Not a single vision?”

“No, my son. I sense an entity, a ravenous soul, yet I see nothing clearly… not yet. Something dark approaches, but from whence it came and to what end it may go, I cannot tell.”

“Does it concern
her
?”

“I know not. It may well be within Ashgard, or even within her own family. Nothing has yet been made clear. Let us not guess. You will see trouble where none exists and miss the evil dancing within your grasp. When the time is right, I will see all.”

*****

The chill blew through Mangladune’s ancient trees the same as it did in the Thralldom Mountains. The unseen folk could feel the trembling elements and knew the tide of malice was fast approaching their lands. Even the animals bristled and hid their young. Ashgard would never be the same.

“Something wicked this way comes, Sire.”

“I felt it, Kias. My ancient bones rattle within me.”

“Can you tell what it is, Father?”

“Izadori, my child, I can tell
who
it is.”

“Who? You don’t mean…”

“Yes, dear one,
he
stirs. Revenge consumes him.”

“What shall we do? Send forth commands, Sire, before all hope drains from the land.”

“Nay, Kias. I will not move my hand against him. We will remain as we are.”

“But, Father!”

“No, Izadori. The Elves have withdrawn. We no longer interfere with the evils of man. We will observe and record, nothing more.”

“Then, what good do we serve? What is our purpose here if we no longer protect and teach? Are you content with our entire race growing old and fading away? We have stood idle for so many years, our kind is no longer even recorded within their manuscripts.”

“And, has that stopped your beating heart, my daughter? Have you lost the ability to draw air into your lungs because they no longer sing of your great beauty? No, dear one. They have their Guardians. We will not interfere.”

“But the Guardians move not.”

“They do not sleep. If their hand has been stayed in this matter, you would do well to remain far from it, my child.”

*****

The people of Ashgard had once known the warning signs, yes. Alas, their many years of ease had erased those darkened thoughts. Now, the cold wind only caused them to tighten their raiment. No one looked to the stars. The hand of death was upon them once more, and they noticed it not.

Shibta had passed over Ashgard many years before. The demoness had brought with her a devastating plague. It was an epidemic, one which annihilated nearly half their population, leaving the decimated survivors roaming about in mournful despair.

The mighty Guardians eventually restrained the demoness of disease. Shibta had been cast into darkness and was bound there still. But her twin brother, Shabriri, now sought his pound of flesh as payment.

*****

“Ah, Varick, I see him.”

“Who is it, Mother?”

“The master of the
true
darkness.”

“No… Shabriri… anyone but him. Does the summons come? Is the time ripe?”

“Yes, my son. The summons is here. Call every warrior to your side.  If this chieftain of evil is allowed to touch even one—”

“I know, Mother. I know.”

The thunderous sound of wings filled the sky as the dogs of heaven gathered en masse, blotting out the very sun. Battle rage and blood lust consumed their every thought. As the cry went forth from each commander, legion upon legion disappeared into the swirling cloud bank.

The graceful seer emerged to stand next to her son as he made ready his generals.

“Fair news from blessed mother would go far to temper rising fears.”

“A request I would gladly grant, but cannot.”

“He has taken her, hasn’t he? By all that’s holy! I vow to you now, Mother, no soul will rest until I have cast that demon into the pits of hell by mine own hand. If he has harmed but a single golden hair upon her fair head—”

“He will save her for last, to better savor her misery. Varick, he touched Marlise.”

“No…”

“Yes, my son. It has begun.”

*****

The majestic King of the Elven folk stood silent within their forest domain. The whispers and fears of his people circled about him.

“The summons has come down.”

“Do we join the Guardians once more?”

“Nay, Kias. We will not interfere.”

“Father, you diminish us all. Do not punish the whole of man for the acts of one. We are a blessed people for but one reason. If you withhold our purpose, you condemn us all.”

“Izadori, if you step one foot outside Mangladune, you will join your sister in exile.”

“How could exile be any worse than the forest cage you have locked us within?”

“You know the answer to that, my child. Removed from your brethren, you fade.”

“I fade with them as well. As do
you
, Father.”

Book One

The Beginning…

Chapter 1

Jenevier

(
ZHEN-ah-veer
)

Moonlight spread across her face, glistening off the beads of sweat covering her brow. She stirred, mumbling muffled words into her feather pillow. A creaking noise came from the adjacent hallway… then again. Her deep blue eyes sprang open, frantically searching the darkened room.

Is someone there? Where am I? Wha-what was I— Ugh… Not again.

She sat up, releasing a heavy sigh.

Jenevier had always been a wildly vivid dreamer. But life, this life,
her
life, had transformed her sleeping mind into a tumultuous torrent of fear and panic.

Once, she had dreamt of enchanting, mythical creatures playing in the morning sunlight as it slipped through the tree tops to the dew-soaked glades below. Alas, those frolicking fairytale creatures from her youth had now been transformed into fanged demons and grotesque atrocities. Monsters—their wings dipped in blood, roaming the night, devouring all the innocence and bliss this world once held. She couldn’t quite grasp what had changed her lovely dreams so drastically. The answer seemed to be out there teetering on the very edge of consciousness, just beyond her reach.

Sweet rest shall not visit me this night
, she thought.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she surveyed her quaint, moonlit room. Pillows were strewn about, covers mussed and partially off the bed. A book lay face down, its pages crumpled upon the floor—undeniable evidence of her restless mind.

Opening the tiny drawer in her nightstand, she drew out the matches and stumbled to the kitchen.

Her reflection appeared ghostly within those squared windowpanes. She stared absently out into the waning night as the first rays of the newly breaking dawn tried desperately to reach down and touch her peaceful little home.

The keen whistle from the boiling teapot snapped her mind from its nebulous roaming.

*****

Letting her head loll back, Jenevier looked up into the expansive canopy of the ancient winslet tree that all but covered her side lawn. Sunlight was dancing across the emerald leaves, playing peek-a-boo with the breeze.
This
was her heaven. She closed her eyes and listened… listened to the gentle melodic bubbling of the tiny trickling stream. Listened to the soft creaking sound of the old weathered ropes as her favorite chair swung back and forth, wearing a remembered path into those mighty limbs overhead. She smiled.

This is my favorite place in the whole world. My own little paradise.

She was constantly amazed at just how perfect this place truly was. The dainty little cottage was surrounded by a deliciously fragrant flower garden. She would sit amongst the many-blooming lilies at dusk, drink in their deliciously intoxicating scent. The elegant garden wound around the house and sloped down the rolling hill, almost touching the edge of her sleepy little stream. Ahh, that stream. She loved it. Loved wading through it, loved balancing atop the smooth stones peaking up through the surface, loved uncovering its tiny hidden secrets. Playing in that stream was her secret joy, her child-like moment of the day. It was clear—ice cold and filled with life—carrying little creatures along its gentle current as it slid lazily behind her modest stables. Who could argue?
This
was paradise. A secret little haven of rest encompassed about by a magical looking forest sworn to always guard this little gem of a home.

She was blessed, yes. Blessed with a peaceful happiness. Blessed with nature’s rare beauty. Blessed with calm, tranquil thoughts… until the dreams came.

Breathing in the floral aroma of her steaming tea, Jenevier was morbidly captivated with the first tiny ray of morning light as it touched her swinging toe—in and out of the light, back and forth. She watched absently as the determined little beam grew to touch the top of her foot and then started its slow ascent up her outstretched leg.

“In the light… in the darkness… in the day… in the night…”

She watched the hungry little ray grab for her foot only to lose it once more to the shadows.

“Horrid dreams,” she mumbled.

Relishing in the glorious morning glow now spreading across her face, she let its nurturing warmth cover her a few moments more before she stood, turning toward the stables.

Therein lives my heart.

Her golden curls lost their sunlit glow when she swung wide the old wooden doors and entered.

Raven was the first to respond. He ran toward her, anxiously awaiting her touch upon his majestic brow. This horse seemed always in tune with her emotions. She knew without knowing, their souls were connected in some strange way.

Her mare, Epona, was a stunning beauty. She sparkled like spun gold. Crowned with a ghostly white mane and luxurious tail that fell fluidly to the ground, Epona was powerful and alluring. Holding her head aloft, she seemed to look down upon all other creatures.

Jenevier loved Epona, yes, loved her madly. But for some odd reason, she didn’t share the same deep connection with the mare as she did with Raven.

Raven… he was a creature unlike any other. A huge stallion, he boasted hair darker than a moonless night. This enchanting beast claimed a silken mane and tail so black they flamed blue in the vibrant midday sun. He was a rare treasure indeed—ebony glory given breath by the gods.

In her dreams Raven often came to her rescue, protected her from the horrors rampaging ferociously through her once quiescent world. Jenevier often carried on entire conversations with the horse. And… he seemed to listen. She was all but certain his deep black eyes welled-up with compassion and understanding.

These majestic creatures were her life. They would never betray her, nor she them. She would protect them always… even unto death.

“Come. Walk with me.”

The three friends strolled out into the breathtaking brilliance of another perfect day.

Epona immediately kicked up her heels, running large circles near the edge of the darkened tree line. Jenevier was captivated by the enchanting scene that golden horse made—shining wildly in the sun, shadowed by the forest. She smiled.

“I wish to play by the river, Raven.”

Placing her hand against his powerful neck, together they walked down the hill to the outmost edge of the western trees.

As they strolled by the deep, still waters, she recounted what she could remember of her epically bizarre dreams.

“I cannot recall the whole of it. My surroundings were blurred. But the demons were real, Raven. Well, as real as you can get in a dream. They were horribly vivid—ravaging about, destroying all the things I loved, all the things I treasured.”

The horse snorted as he gently placed his forehead against her back, rubbing up and down her spine, nudging her along. She giggled.

*****

Jenevier spent the better part of that day soaking up the precious sun, tossing stones in the water. She would count the rolling ripples as they sloshed back against the bank, calling the numbers aloud as Raven tried to match them by tapping his hoof.

She hugged his powerful neck. “Silly boy,” she whispered. “I love you too much. Did you know that?”

Raven snorted in response, just like always.

Around dusk, Jenevier returned to the stables and began all the usual tasks of feeding, watering, and brushing her best friends. As she worked, she hummed some long forgotten tune remembered anew. It was a song from her youth, one about babes—lost in the woods, gently comforted by the worried forest animals, crying themselves to sleep as darkness found them before their parents did.

Another day had slipped away before she even realized it. This seemed to be the pattern of her life—hours fleeting faster than the sand beneath your feet chasing the waves back out to sea.

She sat down upon the lounge in the hallway—exhausted, yawning.

“Perhaps I’ll rest for a bit. Just a bit, mind you.” She yawned again. “I need to go take a bath, I suppose. But I’ll rest first… just a teensy bit.”

She glanced at Epona. The mare was still. Her eyes, closed. When she looked over to Raven, he snorted softly. But
his
eyelids were drooping as well.

She smiled. “We had fun today. Didn’t we, boy? I love days like this—peaceful, quiet, so pleasant. I know tomorrow will bring the same. You’ll make sure of it. Right, boy?”

Her smile didn’t fade as she slowly slid down on the couch, curling up on her side in a little ball. Raven snorted once, she remembered that much… then sleep fell hard upon her.

*****

Jenevier woke with a jolt, landing hard upon the dusty ground.

“Wha- what was—”

She let out a shriek when the second terrifying clap of thunder sped up her already racing heart.

The almost constant lightning sent dancing flashes of the darkened stable to her blurry eyes. Getting to her feet, she stumbled through the shadows, feeling around for the lamp. Intermittent flashes illuminated the stables enough for her to see Epona, tossing about her snowy mane as she paced nervously within her confines.

Jenevier heard Raven before she could actually see him. He was dark, the shadows swallowed him. But when the lamplight sparkled in his eyes, she knew… he was terrified beyond controlling.

Something bad is coming this way, something powerful. I smell anger swirling about me. I taste it on the air.

She tried to coax the maddened horse with coos and clicks. The next crack of thunder sent him rushing toward her gentle voice like a needy child. Rubbing his brow with both hands, she kissed his nose, speaking sweetly as she shushed away his fears.

Raven calmed with her touch. She felt his pulse slow, his breathing steady. He stilled. Yet his eyes remained wild, haunted.

“What a good boy. Shhh, now. It is but a little storm. No harm. It will soon pass. I’m here, old friend. I won’t leave you.”

She jumped when the raging wind rattled, banged, and then blew the stable doors open with a crash. Her sudden yelp caused Raven to jerk back his head.

A hauntingly familiar voice drifted down the hallway, swirling around her, rocking her already hazy mind. It mingled with a deep, hair-raising growl right before it was carried away by the wind. That strange growl left her frozen—frozen in shock, frozen in fear.

Raven jerked free, going mad within his stall. Epona kicked the walls, neighing loudly. Yet as quickly as it had rushed in, the wind died away, leaving an even eerier calmness hanging in the rain-soaked night air. She shuddered. Chills ran painfully down her spine.

She turned back to the horse. “R-Raven? Come here, boy.”

He only snorted, refusing her outstretched hand. She cautiously opened the stall door.

“Raven? It’s okay now, boy. I promise,” she coaxed.

When the terrified horse saw his glimpse of freedom, he bolted. Charging past her, Raven didn’t even notice when Jenevier grabbed his long mane. But the sheer force of this powerful steed slung his tiny owner half up on his back.

Managing to pull herself upright on the horrified beast, Jenevier wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and held on for dear life. She could have jumped before he reached the now open barn doors, yes. But this was her beloved friend. She refused to let him experience this horrific fear alone.

The blinding rain felt like needles against her bare arms. She raised her head slightly, her sodden curls sticking to her face like a giant golden web. Seeing the western side of the forest fast approaching, Jenevier screamed out to Raven, pulling back hard on his mane. The placid lake lay just beyond that nearing tree line, but she knew the horse wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t hear her pleas. Couldn’t register her cries over the noise of thunder, and his own blind terror.

Mustering her courage, she laid her head upon his neck, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Then, let it come swiftly,” she whispered.

She felt the ground soften beneath his massive hooves, saw the moonlight dancing across the tiny ripples. Jenevier laced her fingers through his beautiful, wavy mane, forcing the tears to stream back from her tightly closed eyes.

“I love you, Raven.” Desolate whispered words, sadly heard by no one, trailed off in the night air.

Her bitter tears mixed with the chilling rain, mingling sorrowfully together. There was a cold, wet rush. Then… complete darkness.