Authors: Maya DeLeina
What he said, is it true? Is that what you need me to do for you?
Yes. Restore my speech, my human body.
But how?
Concentrate. You will know how.
They stood still as their inner communication broke, preparing for Anya’s body incursion.
Anya focused, opening her mind’s eye. She envisioned the power of her energy flowing to the Oracle. The energy sank deep into her arm. Probing for a viable vein, the energy dispersed into slivers that attached to her cells like magnets, embedding within the DNA. Anya visualized what her body was telling her to do instinctively to restore the Oracle’s natural structure.
Suddenly, the Oracle fell to her knees.
“Oracle!”
“My name is Chariana,” the Oracle said as she remained looking down, gasping for air. “This is Palmer.” She tapped her shoulder.
Palmer, the pure-white owl, blinked his big, golden eyes and cocked his head to one side, looking up at Anya and Steffan.
“You did it, Anya! She is not speaking backward anymore!” Steffan said, stunned and amazed at Anya’s biokinesis ability.
“Thank you, Anya.” Chariana stood tall and looked at Steffan and Anya. Her eyes sparkled in a deep-hazel color while her other features had no visible change.
“I didn’t do it. Look, except for her eyes, her body did not transform at all,” Anya said in disappointment. She began to feel a bit woozy and looked over at Steffan to see if he noticed her uneasiness. He didn’t seem to pick up on her slight discomfort. Anya explored his mind. He was preoccupied, preparing for the arsenal of questions he had for this mysterious woman who stood before them.
“No. You did do it. I can feel it inside me. By the next full moon, my body will revert like clockwork, but this time, I won’t be transformed back into this,” Chariana said as she stood and fanned out her robe.
“When is the next full moon?” Steffen asked.
“In one week,” replied Chariana.
“What do you mean revert back?” Anya tried to retain her composure as her dizziness intensified.
“Each full moon, I get to return to my body as it was when this spell was put on me. I go above ground, watching all of you, making sure all of the events fall into place as they should. I exert my influence only when I sense it is needed. All in all, I have been bidding my time. By the waning gibbous moon, my body transforms back to this creature’s shell and I retreat underground.”
“I don’t understand. Griffin referred to you as the Oracle. He said you’ve been following my family since Vienna. That was almost forty years ago. What are you? What’s our connection? What exactly were those images that you were transferring to us? Who did this to you?” Steffan shot questions at her left and right.
“It was thirty-two years to be exact since I first met you,” Chariana replied.
As if instructed by an unforeseen force, she closed eyes. Under her lids, they were rapid in movement. When she opened her eyes, she looked intently at Anya and Steffan and then navigated the room. “Is there anyone else with you? I’ve always sensed there would be three of you.”
“No. It’s just us,” Steffan answered, looking at Anya with confusion, “What did you sense in the third person?”
Anya couldn’t mask her ailment any longer. As soon as Steffan’s gaze left hers, she dropped to her knees, finally accepting that the nausea was overtaking her body.
“Anya!” Steffan cried out and kneeled by her side. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I feel dizzy.”
“Steffan, get her dressed and come with me to the boat. We will need to get her to the cavern,” Chariana said, kneeling in front of Anya, brushing the hair from her face.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Are you sure I can’t manage that for you?” Steffan asked as Chariana maneuvered the boat’s oars.
He sat back, cradling Anya.
“I may look old and feeble, but Anya actually restored my body inside. I’m strong. I’m young. I’m twenty-two years old again. Believe me, I’m stronger than I look. Just concentrate on her.”
Steffan cradled Anya in his arms. He ran his hand gently through her hair to relax her. “Where are you taking us?”
“Deep in one of the caverns here, there’s an aquifer that she should drink from.”
“What makes you think the aquifer is going to help her?”
“Because when I go through my body shifts, I am plagued with a sickening nausea. When I first came here, I heard the locals talk about the water down in these caverns having medicinal properties. This is what the spigots tap into all along Manitou, why the tourists flock here year after year. I started drinking from it and it immediately cleared up my ailment.”
“How does it do that?”
“I don’t know. It is years of rainwater and snow that melted from the mountain that seep through rock fractures, penetrating deep into the earth. It becomes mineralized in the limestone cavern. I mean, it’s totally free of any type of contamination, man-made or atmospheric. When you think about its origin, it’s the purest consumption of nature there is.” Chariana paused and leaned toward Steffan. “You moved us to a very special place. Thank you.”
“I moved you? Look, you have to start giving me some answers here. I don’t understand much of what’s going on. What is our connection?”
“I’ve been with your family ever since Vienna. It all started when we met.”
“Where? I don’t remember you.”
“I was an exchange student at the University, studying music. At nights, I would join other students and we’d perform as street musicians for money. I was out late one evening. All the other musicians already left. I didn’t want to leave until I made enough to pay for food for the next day. I didn’t even see you coming down the street, but there you were, watching me. You told me I played like an angel. You asked me how much I made a week. When I told you, you said you would double that amount if I promised to stay off the streets. When I agreed, you paid me and told me to visit the manager of the hotel the next evening, and—”
“You were hired as their lobby musician. I remember.” Steffan smiled and nodded, recalling the young woman he’d watched that night, mesmerized by her eloquence and grace on the violin. But that wasn’t the first time he’d laid eyes on her. For many nights, he traveled down from his castle in the mountains and took to the cobblestone streets. And there she stood, on the corner, lacing the cold night with the sweet beauty of her music.
He also remembered the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction he had with the slight enthrallment he had placed on the hotel manager, convincing him that he was in immediate need of a musician to entertain guests. He had a pleasing taste as well, not bad for a late-night snack.
They glided through the labyrinth of passages, Chariana directing the boat through with relative ease. The last tunnel was dark and narrow, the boat barely making it through. The darkened path led to a spacious clearing, a pocket in the earth, deep underground that extended high and wide. The walls looked like melted wax dripping from the sides of a pillar candle. The air was noticeably warmer. Chariana guided the boat to the rock formations and tethered it.
“We’re going to go up past these rocks here, the aquifer sits right beyond the opening,” Chariana said as they exited the boat.
Steffan carried Anya in his arms as they climbed the natural grade of the cavern, slipped through a fissure in the wall, and came upon the pool of water. Chariana had cups already situated on a rock that served as a table. Around the table sat flat-topped boulders, perfect seating for the table. Steffan sat Anya down on one of the rocks as she continued to lean her head against his chest. Chariana leaned over the edge and pulled up a rope that held a bucket at the end. She dipped the cup in the bucket and collected the spring water for Anya.
“Force yourself to sit up and drink this slowly,” Chariana said to Anya, handing her the cup.
Anya sat up and took a small sip, testing the taste as it hit her lips. “This is good,” Anya said in a weak voice,
“What do you think it tastes like? I hear everyone describe it differently,” Chariana inquired.
“It has a mild sweetness. Hints of carbonation.” Anya paused and took another sip and swallowed. “There is a metallic finesse, but it is refreshing. And my nausea is subsiding.”
“Better then?” Chariana asked.
“Getting there. Thank you.”
“I still can’t believe it is you,” Steffan said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I met you thirty-two years ago, when you were in your twenties. By all accounts, you should be in your early fifties now.”
“But I look much older, decrepit, and deformed right? Remember, it’s only my shell, from the curse. Anya restored my cells, and once I revert for the last time, you’ll see my true self.”
Steffan stammered, frustration closing in on him. “I still don’t get all of this. Just start at the beginning. Tell us everything. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Like I said, I was an exchange student at the university. I left my hometown in Montreal to study abroad. I was awarded a music scholarship. But honestly, the scholarship was just the means. I needed to get away—away from my parents, away from everyone in that town who looked at me they way they did because of my abilities.”
“What abilities?” Anya asked.
* * * *
“I have…” Chariana paused and looked at Steffan and Anya, their gaze burning on her.
Forty years ago, when she’d revealed this, she’d been met with cynicism and indignation. Her parents had admitted her to a barrage of clinics, hoping to cure her mental disorder. But her audience was now with vampires. They had to understand. They had to believe.
She chose her words carefully.
This was the key to maintain their divine path.
“…knowings of the future.” Chariana continued. “I can pick up a thought and transform it immediately into energy, sensing a past, present, or future. I can channel energy, focus on a life path to tell you what you need to know to get you to where you need to be. Sometimes, this isn’t always what you expect to hear or want to hear.”
“What exactly are you?” Anya asked.
“An intuitionist, an HSP,” Chariana responded.
Steffan shook his head. “HSP?”
“Highly sensitive person. That was how the doctors categorized my behavior traits.”
“So, you are in fact, human, but with heightened senses, awareness, and abilities?” Anya asked.
Chariana smiled at Anya’s obvious acceptance of what she’d just revealed. “Yes, I’m human by all accounts. But my body doesn’t age through daily processes like everyone else. It is all due to this spell. Aging only becomes a natural process on my body when I revert to my true form. And I only remain that way for less than twenty-four hours once a month.” Chariana’s look turned somber as she spoke quietly, “This curse, I’d never wish it upon anyone. In its origin, it is crafted to slowly devour the victim’s sanity, even causing many to take their own lives. This was only meant to be cast as a justifiable form of punishment. I never deserved this.” Chariana sighed and rubbed the length of her elongated face.
“Who did this to you?” Steffan asked sternly.
“My roommate. She was an exchange student from Montreal, too. That’s why the school paired us in the dorm assignments. I soon realized that she and her family were Wiccans and practiced witchcraft. Her family was white magic sorcerers, and I was intrigued by their healing spells. I dabbled a little with it, and she taught me a lot. When she realized I had the ability to sense the future, she begged and pleaded with me to teach her how to harness that ability. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. She was frustrated with me and ended up practicing dark witchcraft. Black magic. It went against everything her family taught her.” Chariana shook her head as she recalled the incidents. “Things got really bad between us when I met Aleksanteri. I picked up on her energy shift almost immediately. I started to see nothing but darkness and destruction in her future. When Aleksanteri and I tried to confront her about it, she kicked me out, and I went to live with him.”