Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles (45 page)

Notus cleared his voice of the strangling emotions that threatened to steal the story from being told.

“I was studying with our chief astrologer when the war came to our shores. I, like all the others, did not think it strange or unthinkable that the Astrologer kept to himself and only appeared hooded and cloaked when around others, and only at night.”

“He was Chosen,” stated Fernando, bluntly. Bridget shushed him and encouraged the continuation of the tale. Notus offered a flicker of a smile.

“He was a great and learned man, and not just upon the topic of the stars. He would have been High Druid, the leader of us all, but for his humility and insistence upon his station. No one      remembered when he had arrived, only that he seemed to have been there forever.

“During my years under him I never once saw his face. Of course I wondered at his appearance for his voice belied youth. His reasoning for the darkness and his appearance were, at the time, logical. After all, his study was portends of the heavenly bodies and he needed to keep his night vision pure. No one suspected the truth
and neither did I. I did find his predictions fantastical and incredible.

“Like what?” asked Fernando, completely drawn into the tale.

Notus glanced at the Noble and let out a small chuckle.

He was looking for a portent that would herald the Old Gods return to earth.

“Did he ever receive it?” asked Bridget, her eyes bright with wonder.

“I don’
t know,

replied the monk. “He had been concerned about something that ate at his soul and tossed him into despair. It must have been serious as he went to the High Council with it.  The night before the attack that destroyed the sanctity of our peace he had whooped and hollered in glee. I had never seen him so happy.

“It was just before dawn when Rome breeched our island. With shining metal and glistening steel they slaughtered. I tried to find my wife and protect my children, having spent the whole night with my mentor. To this day I am not sure exactly what occurred. One minute I was running, the Astrologer yelling after me and then waking up in dark woods, my body on fire.

“I could not
move. I tried to call out, only to have a cold hand clamp my mouth shut. I did not know who it was or where I was but once I heard my mentors soothing voice I relaxed. In the light of a small fire I took my first sight of the ancient man. I was stunned. He appeared no older than I! Younger in fact! He spoke to me then. He informed me that I was dying, that my wounds were too grievous. I could not comprehend what he spoke of. All I knew was I was cold and I couldn

t feel parts of my body. It was then that he gave me the Choice. I did not believe I was fully cognizant of what he was offering me. Had I known then what I knew later I would have begged for death, but life demands living and I agreed.

“My teacher put me through a rite the kind of which I had
never experienced. He cleaned me and prepared my body, shaving
my beard and leaving my face naked as it had been when I was a boy. I tried to protest but he assured me that it was better this way, after all he too was clean of facial hairs.

“The process took the rest of the night. Unlike today, there was more pomp and ceremony. In words ancient and unknown my Chooser beseeched the Old Ancient Gods whose names have been lost in the mists of time. The culmination of the ceremony was, of course, the exchange of blood. I do not need to convey to you the agony of my transformation, but I will state this –
had my mentor not stayed by my side, lending his strength through his grasp of my cooling hand, I would not have survived the metamorphosis.

“When dawn approached he lifted me to stand and we entered the shelter he had constructed, there to spend my first day as Chosen. I had many questions and when I hungered he fed me from his body. Both he gave willingly, feeding my curiosity and satiating my physical being. The only answer he could not give was my burning desire to discover the fate of my beloved children and my darling wife. To that end I was forced to wait until the setting of the sun.

“I’
m sure at some point I slept as memories of Rome

s assault awoke me with such a terror that I startled my Chooser. Despite the incessant need of my body for fresh living blood my desire to discover the fate of my family burned more brightly. Knowing I
could not move forward in my new state of being without learning
my past, my Chooser reluctantly returned me to the only home I had ever truly known.”

Notus closed his eyes with a shuddering breath as two thousand year old memories rushed forward, colliding with the present
as if the occurrence happened just yesterday. Taking hold of the tumultuous emotions he opened his eyes, aware of his audiences

expectation, and continued,

What can I say? Everything was lost. My Chooser and I walked through a field of slaughter. My
newly Chosen senses fed me more than what daylight could have to mortal eyes and nostrils. Death and decay walked the land and we immortals could only weep. Bodies of our beloved Brotherhood
littered the blood caked land in grim mocking sacrifice. Children lay slain with terror as their final emotion etched on their faces as they clutched at siblings, parents or dolls. Pregnant women with their unborn babes sliced from their wombs. Their only touch was of cold earth. It was horrific, but none more than when I found them.

“Bryn and Rhia were sliced near in twain in defence of their younger brother and mother. It was clear they died first, and it was a long and agonising death. Little Gareth was unrecognizable for the sword
slash that split his beautiful face. But it was what they had done to Gwendolyn that finally made me wish I had refused the Astrologer

s Choice. In a fury of grief and despair I became senseless. I do not remember much after that except screams of terror, incomprehensible shouting, fire and the taste of human blood. It was the next night that sense returned to me and my Chooser informed me what I had done. I

m sure I do not need to spell it out to you.

Bridget nodded. Her blue eyes bright with unshed tears while Fernando

s face darkened, hardening as if he knew all too well.


My Chooser took me away from there. We travelled the land together as he taught me about what it meant to be Chosen and helped me in my mourning. Through the decades we watched our land invaded and transformed by foreign conquerors. I was introduced to the Master of the Chosen and was astonished at the immense reception and honour he did for my Chooser. I learned the Roman tongue and ciphers. In the process I was forced to leave behind my belief in the Old Gods, for fear of retribution.

“Oh how I hated to do that but to declare myself Druid would
have been suicide. Regardless, my need to continue my knowledge
of the spirit eternal led me to discover the teachings of a desert Jewish holy man sacrificed as the Son of God. Intrigued and desperate to find meaning in the suffering of mankind I eventually
took up the mantle of Christian priesthood. It was at that time my Chooser left me, claiming that he would not continue as he was.

“You see, we had seen so much war, so much slaughter, my way of life was gone and all I loved had withered and died if not cut down before its time. My melancholy at being an immortal witness to such loss drove my Chooser from me. His parting words bid me to find solace in my immortality and a way to turn it to help others. As part of my Oath to follow this new Son of God I swore never to Choose another so as not to bestow upon another the misery of living past ones loved ones, ones people and oneself. It was an Oath that kept me sane so that I could help others in their short lives without allowing myself to become too attached to anyone that I may have wanted to Choose. It kept others safe from me.”

“But what of the Angel?” asked Bridget. “His Choosing was an accident.”

Notus nodded.

He was. He also never truly lived.

Their scowls encouraged him to explain.

On the night he was accidentally Chosen, I can only say that his appearance startled and evoked a fear in me the like I had never known. It was only after I had realized what had transpired that I decided to follow him as he succumbed to the transformation.

“I have never seen, before or since, someone go through what he did. I believed, nay prayed, he’
d slip into death. Please don

t think me heartless. Between my Oath and his feral living I did not believe he should be Chosen. He was alone in the world. Abandoned and shunned because of prejudice. When I saw the elation in his soul that surviving the change had bestowed on him I knew I had failed to keep my Oath but I had to salvage what I could.

“He was terrified of me. I believe it was because of what I had inadvertently done, but no, his fear encompassed all people. It was difficult to bring him out of that existence.”

“What was he afraid of?” queried Fernando.

Taking a bracing breath, Notus placed his hands on his knees.

What does anyone fear? Rejection. Abandonment. Never to be loved.

“Why?” frowned Bridget. “We all suffer from these fears from time to time.”

“His appearance,” stated Fernando matter-of-factly.

Notus silently nodded.

Chosen or mortal he has always been a target, either as a possession to be owned or controlled.

“It was only with you that the threats diminished,” observed Bridget.

“It was why Katherine kidnapped you,” stated Fernando. “To attack a Chosen of your reputation and age is unthinkable. The Angel protected you from harm as your renown kept him from being Destroyed.”

“And you became a buffer for him to function with others,” continued Bridget. “But that doesn’
t explain why you won

t Choose him again. Oh I understand why you made the Oath that you did, but isn

t this different?

Notus sighed and turned his hands over to look at his palms.

You only met him when you were thrown together to discover the subterfuge of the Vampires. You saw him like I had only ever seen him once, a very long time ago when he gave his heart to another, before and since he existed as the Angel. Societies through the ages never saw him as human. Can you dare say the same when you first met him, and even after? I know the rumours. I know the gossip. I also know that his detachment has kept him safe, at least until recently. Now we live in an age where his differences won

t mark him for destruction. Now he can have the mortal existence that includes a family that won

t abandon him and turn him out because of those differences. We live in an age where those who hopefully will share his blood won

t hide in plain sight and pretend to be strangers for fear of prejudice. He can finally start to truly live the life his sister has hoped he

d find.

“What?”

Notus, Bridget and Fernando turned to see the Angel leaning against the threshold of the hallway. The pain lacerating his pale features turned the monk

s stomach to lead, his hazel eyes and mouth widening in realization of what he had said and what had been heard.

 

 

It was not the excruciating pain that made it next to impossible to breathe that woke him, and nor was it the throbbing headache that subordinated his hunger. It was the voices floating into the room that forced him to pry open his eyes.

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