SWNOVELS Chapter Book Two - Ch.# 41
“Beware the Silver Saintess, her hair as silken thread. With her consort mate of power, the people wept and bled.’
“And beware the Siren’s call, his eyes as gold as ore. With whispers of manipulation, they'll hold you in their thrall.’
“And if you breathe despite this, a devil still awaits."
“Because forever lives another...’
'...The deathless angel mate.’
The words of Allison's recited passage repeated through my head, echoing like a bad dream. An impossible dream.
How could she be...?
But there was no mistaking it. With the confirmation of who she was, I realised why she looked so familiar. I'd seen a painting of her inside Ashwood’s Moon Goddess temple. They'd depicted her with sapphire-like eyes and shadowy wings.
So... did that mean she really was...?
"..L.. I'm sorry, I'm not sure I'm following...” I stuttered out, struggling to wrap my head around the new information. “Did you say... great-great-grandmother? ...How are you alive?”
Myra just laughed though and moved a hand to cup her cheek. But despite this abashed outward demeanour, I thought I caught something in her eye. A look of... sadness. As if she'd seen many things in her lifetime.
“I've been asking myself that question for a long time...” she said. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions and I'm happy to explain everything I can. First things first though...” She then tugged on my hand gently, indicating for me to follow. “Come inside and have some tea. You look tired.”
And, stunned, I followed mutely behind her, unable to do anything else.
This was a so-called Devil of the Mist? The way Allison had spoken, I'd assumed my entire family were bloodthirsty savages, the worst of the worst.
However, Myra seemed so sweet, so... normal. Well, except for the fact she was claiming to be over a hundred years old. That bit felt a bit... surreal.
She walked us through the front door and into a living room, a cosy vibe about it. I'd assumed this place was maybe an apartment complex but it seemed more open and... homey.
"Make yourself comfortable,” she said before walking into the next room.
I could hear as she began brewing tea, just as she said she would, and I was left to stare at my surroundings. I looked around at the old furniture, but it was a set of portraits on the wall that drew my attention the most.
“My parents,” she answered a few minutes later, returning with two cups. “The last generation to live here. After my children were born, things got a little... busy. The family business wasn't as important in the grand scheme of running a pack.”
"And what business is that?" I asked, taking the tea from her.
“This used to be an orphanage,” she explained. “Though... I imagine we ran it a little differently than the human one you lived at briefly.”
“So that really was you then? All those years ago?” I asked. “You were the one who tried to adopt me?”
Her expression became forlorn and she looked away.
*...1 did everything I could...” she said quietly, her voice sounding distant. “When they refused to listen to me, I began trying to get my hands on some forged human documents. However... when you're being hunted by even your own kind, it's not easy to find friends willing to help you. When I inevitably gave up on official methods, I decided to try and steal you away instead... only I was too late. Someone had adopted you and miraculously it was as if all trace of you had vanished.”
My father. So, he really had been responsible for covering it up at the orphanage too. I'd had a feeling the censored-out folder was his doing. The large “donation’ made sense now.
"Where did you go, Rheyna...?" she asked, looking back to meet my eyes. “I searched everywhere I could.”
My mind flashed with the answer, recalling the upbringing I'd experienced, and immediately felt uncomfortable. It wasn't an easy topic.
*...I was adopted by a human,” I said vaguely.
"And were you happy? Did they treat you well?”
Not really...
But it was clear that she felt guilty for not being able to find me. She was looking at me as if she needed me to tell her that I'd had a great life, that I'd been completely fine despite losing my real family. That I hadn't suffered at all.
And so I just smiled, hoping I looked believable enough.
"Oh... it was okay,” I answered. “Pretty average. Nothing you need to worry about. Just your typical *CLAPP*
I flinched backwards as Myra abruptly clapped loudly in front of my face, taking me by surprise. "Why did yo—."
“No influencing,” she said crossly, scolding me as if I were a child. “Not under my roof.” But then her features quickly softened, a small sigh leaving her. “Please don't feel like you need to lie for my sake, Rheyna. You don't need to sway me with reassurance. I'm tougher than I look.”
"What do you mean?” I asked, still stunned in place. “I wasn't doing anything...”
“I raised generations of Knight children. It's very obvious what you were doing.”
And she gave me a stern look.
..Had I actually been doing something? I had planned to lie about my upbringing, sure, but I hadn't intended to try and “influence’ her. Not intentionally. Did this mean I was doing it without realising? "You seem quite skilled at it, I'll give you that,” she then pointed out, her head tilting a little. “Had I not been on guard, you might have actually fooled me. That would have made you the first since...” Her face then turned sad once more, a pain showing in her eyes. Perhaps someone she lost? ..Though if she had lived for as long as she'd said, I imagined that list was quite long.
After a minute went by, she quietly sighed to herself and shook her head, breaking her own chain of thought. When she did finally look back towards me, I knew she was trying her best to lighten the conversation. “With those eyes, I shouldn't be surprised that you'd manifest with it. Though, truthfully, I don't know if that makes me happy or sad.”
"What do you mean?” I asked, curiously.
This was something I'd been wanting to know for a long time. About my ability and what made us “devils’. Hell, even an explanation for how I was able to talk to her at all right now would have been appreciated
"Our lineages are a bit muddled currently,” she started. “But whenever a child is born, the universe sort of... flips a coin. A fifty per cent chance that the eldest will manifest with one ability or the other. The second eldest child will then inherit the remaining one. That is if they even show signs at all. Merely having the potential inside isn't always enough to harness it. Some of the children never show any aptitude at all.”
“So that means I could have ended up like you?” I asked. “Would I also not...?"
"...Not age?” she provided with a small smile. “No, my circumstance is a little... unique. At most, those who take after me remain looking youthful for a bit longer... but, unlike me, they do eventually pass on... everyone always does.”
There was a hollowness in the way she said that. I could feel the weight of her grief, imagining what it was like to watch everyone she knew slowly die.
..To have loved ones, and yet to always be left behind when they passed.
It must be horrible.
“Tell me more,” I said, pressing for answers. “l want to know everything about what we are and why I'm like this. Why... I'm a devil.”
"Hey!" she snapped suddenly, a crease forming between her brows. “No. We don't use that term.” "What? ...'Devil? Isn't that what we are though?”
“I don't know where you heard that, but we don't use that language here,” she said.
It was a bizarre feeling of being continually told off by someone who looked around my age, yet spoke like someone much older. She somehow managed to keep making me feel like a child despite her appearance.
“The lies that spread, due to fear from small-minded people, do not make you a devil,” she said, still frowning. “What we did here... we made history. Amazing strides of equality that revolutionised our kind's archaic ways of life. But as with all greedy people in power who'd prefer what only benefits them... they chose to rely on rumours and half-truths to weaponise their agenda. Our abilities that they feared so much gave us a position to dictate change in our world unquestionably, unable to be defeated in battle nor denied... so they resorted to methods belonging to cowards. An effect that rippled through the generations until it resulted in what it unfortunately did.”
*...50, we're not evil?” I asked. “These abilities weren't used to hurt innocent people?”
And she immediately set her tea down and held my head in her hands.
“No,” she said firmly. “Our abilities are merely a manifestation of our lineage. Ties to the original werewolves, the embodiment of Thea's power. Or... that is true for you at least. I am not a direct descendent... more like an adopted one.”
“This isn't making any sense to me,” I said honestly.
And she relaxed, moving back once more as her smile returned. “I had the same reaction when I was your age.”
Before I could ask her to clarify further though, she moved onto the sofa and patted the space next to her, indicating for me to join her.
“Let me explain...” she said, taking a deep breath in.
..And what she proceeded to say only made me more convinced I was losing my mind. That perhaps I was asleep and this was some wild, made-up dream I was in.
"At the beginning of our history, werewolf kind was birthed by the revival of five children, each imbued with a piece of the now dead Goddess Thea, Selene’s mother,” she explained. “One child held the ability of strength, another with foresight; one with perception manipulation, another with influential reverence... and one with youthful longevity. These are the five abilities that made up the original lineages, of which, only three had initially survived into modern history. The other two had been lost after being reclaimed by Thea in her quest for revival.”
Once she saw how confused I still was, she waved her hand. “That one is a long story. Perhaps too complicated for now.”
“But I still don't understand how this works,” I said. “How is it that you're able to remain ageless if you're not from these... lineages?”
Though that question seemed to be met with some hesitance, causing her to shift uncomfortably. “Ah... well, you see...” she said slowly. “When I was sixteen, I... died.”
“What...?"
I tensed up, wondering if I was really hearing this right.
“When one is brought back from the dead by Selene, they are marked upon their back with a double crescent moon. This gives them an ultimate authority with the title Saintess,” she said. “But it is a piece of a God that allows the person to return to the living. The original children manifested with abilities upon their revival and, like them, this same process was applied to myself. One of the lost pieces Thea had reclaimed was then bestowed upon me during my restoration. The mark itself amplifies whatever latent ability is inside, making it so I could not age.”
"How is it possible to return from the dead though?” I asked.
“The last Saintess, Aria, was distraught by my death and felt responsible,” Myra said. “She petitioned Selene to gift her with my return... but I don't think she realised the full consequences of doing so. And don't get me wrong, I've had a very long, fulfilling life... however, as awful as it might sound, I sometimes wish she hadn't of done it. I harbour a lot of regrets, a lot of pain... losing you just being one of many.”
Aria... that was Ariadne, the Silver Saintess? The one said to be insane?
If Myra was telling the truth, it seemed none of the things Ashwood had told me were accurate. Just what else was false?
“I had a choice to make,” she continued. “When my closest friends all died, I soon realised that, even though I may look young, I didn't feel like it inside. My time had already passed even if my body remained. I was tired and just wanted to grieve in peace. It was therefore my decision to leave the pack to the next generation, to let it go on as was intended... and I left the Silver Mist. I hid myself away in isolation, needing a break from it all. It was only once I returned to briefly meet my great- great-grandchildren that I discovered the place was entirely destroyed. I was... too late.”
She must have left before the war, not even realising it was happening.
“I should have done more to find you, Rheyna,” she admitted. “I wanted to keep scouring every town for you, to not sleep until I did, but... things quickly changed. I had another choice to make... an impossible one at that.”
“And what would tha—."
But before I could ask, I then heard something from upstairs. It sounded almost like...
..Coughing?
Immediately, I stood up on high alert.
“Is someone in the house?” I asked, reaching for my dagger.
But Myra was quick to follow and hold her hands up to stop me.
“Woah, it's okay,” she said. “It's not an intruder. Let me introduce you.”
Introduce me? Was this another family member? The place was so quiet that it seemed strange for someone to be in the house and not come down upon my arrival. They would have had to have heard Myra and I talking.
But I decided to not question it and, instead, followed behind Myra as she led us up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, walking until we finally reached a door. It was here that she then lightly knocked and opened it up.
There was a bedroom on the other side, nothing too special, but it was a lump under some bedsheets that instantly drew my attention.
..Because it was those bedsheets that then moved... and a girl heaved herself upright into a sitting position.
Her appearance instantly made me take a step backwards in shock.
She looked just like the Silver Saintess depicted in the temple. Possessing unnatural features that made it hard not to stare. With long silver hair and violet eyes, the similarities were uncanny. But, unlike in the painting, this girl seemed a lot younger and... sickly.
Dark circles ringed her face, her complexion as pale as her hair. And she was weak... incredibly so. Appearing to have trouble just sitting up, with no strength to support her tiny frame.
*...This is Clarissa,” Myra said next to me. “Born to the other lineage line. She is a descendent of Aria and her mate, Aleric.”
However, before I could speak, the girl just simply coughed painfully and looked up at me completely unimpressed.
“Rheyna,” she wheezed out slowly. “... What took you so long?”