Clarity

by Lyra Reyes

Mist. She can't see through the mist. She walked along a line of trees, in the woods of her childhood, one hand gripping the collar of her faithful wolfhound. 

Wait. Is this a dream? It must be a dream.

A loud growling gave her pause. She looked down. The large dog looked quizzically up at her.

"Okay, so wasn't you." She said out loud. "Let's keep going."

As she took a step forward, a large shape stepped out of the mist in front of her. This time, her dog did growl at the black mass in front of them.

Wolf, she thought, watching the creature walk slowly toward them. Oddly pure black with red eyes and..what is that shape on its head? Looked like the sign on the chest she found last month in her mother's storage.

She took a slow step back, pulling at her dog's collar. The wolf stopped. Then leaped.

She slipped on the twigs and, as she fell, cried out when sharp claws dug on her shoulder and a heavy weight settled on her. She instinctively grabbed the wolf's neck, trying desperately to get away from it's snapping jaws. One hand flailed out looking for purchase and, more by luck than purpose, landed on a large rock. She gripped it but as she prepared to use it, she heard her dog snarl and the weight on top of her was gone.

Snarls and growls filled the air as wolf and hound attacked each other in the mist.

"No, no, no," she muttered under her breath as she frantically crawled toward the fight to find an opportunity to use the rock without hitting her dog. 

Then, suddenly, a bolt of fire came out from the sky. The wolf howled in pain and burst into mist.

She sat, dizzy with pain, on the ground and the last thing she remembered before everything turned black was her faithful dog whimpering beside her.

___

"Intense." Samantha said as she watched her goddaughter fidget during breakfast. "You said that the mark on the wolf's head looked like the mark on the chest your mother left you?"

"Really? That's what you got? I dreamed I was being attacked by a wolf in the island woods and you focused on the mark on it's head?"

"Well, Dracula saved you, didn't he?"

Alyssa looked at the large wolfhound napping by her feet. "Yes, he did. He was so very brave."

"Also, wolfhound. Wolf-hunting is what his ancestors are known for." Samantha took a sip of coffee. "Your wounds?"

"That's what scares me." Alyssa pulled down the neck of her shirt and exposed the deep scratches on her shoulder.

"How long have you been having these kinds of dreams, Alyssa?"

"I never told you I've had these kinds of dreams before."

"It would not have escalated like this if this is the first time. Your mother's dreams never came to a point when she woke up injured." Samantha set down her cup and reached into her purse. "It means that it's time."

"Samantha? What are you talking about?"

Samantha handed her an envelope and a key. "This is a letter from her and the key to the chest. Your mother made me promise to give this to you when the right time came. She said I would know when that is, so I guess this is it."

"What is this about, Sam?"

"Read the letter. It explains everything. And everything it doesn't, the journals inside the chest would."

"Samantha, please."

"Haven't you ever wondered why your mother's creams and oils and soups always cured whatever ails you?" Samantha asked. "Or why you pick through your garden for the ingredients to make them under the light of the full moon? Or why your mother always, always reminds you to be careful with your words?"

"Yeah.."

"Do you remember that time when you were a little kid and the kid next door pushed you off the swing?"

"What does that have to do with this, Sam?"

"You were so angry at him that you said you hope he gets the chicken pox. What happened to him, Alyssa."

Alyssa blinked at Samantha. "He got the chicken pox."

She paused. "But, Sam. That was just a coincidence. Right?"

"Your mother had to undo it."

"Undo it?"

Samantha chuckled. "Just read the letter, Alyssa. It will answer those questions."

___

The water in the pond swirled. Slowly at first, then faster and faster as the center of whirl started to rise. Then a dog barked and the water became still.

Alyssa stroked Dracula's head in thanks as a group of teenagers passed by behind them. She waited until they were alone before she started stirring up the water again.

Dracula barked again.

"Okay, okay. Let's go home." Alyssa looked wistfully back at the pond before reaching for Dracula's leash and walking away.

Two weeks had passed since Samantha had given her the key and letter from her mother. A key and a letter that changed her life forever.

I'm so sorry I can't be there to teach you this, my darling. But I have faith that you will do the right thing. It is your legacy. Your birthright. And while it may just be a speck in this great world that we live in, I trust that you will find beauty in the island I called home and endeavor to end the evil that has been bound to it.

Alyssa had forgotten the island of her childhood summers. She cannot say that she cared much for it. But doing as her mother had asked had lifted the heavy weight that had settled in her heart when her mother passed away. Besides, magic is so cool. She had been practicing everyday for two weeks and the fun of it, no matter how difficult the instructions in her mother's books were, hadn't worn off.

The dreams hadn't either, she thought dryly, rubbing her right arm. Last night's was a doozy. Still the same woods, still the same wolf, still the same outcome. But she worries about Dracula. She harbored hope that him being in her dreams was only because she's used to having him by her side. That hope was shattered when she woke up this morning with Dracula sprawled at her feet, whimpering and licking the gash on his hind leg.

She reached down to rub the wolfhound's head as she waited for the light to change. Dracula, while still playful, had developed a protective streak. And while she's not sure if she's taking him with her in the dreams or tif he has the same dreams, she had to learn how to protect them both before he gets seriously hurt.

These daily practices at the park pond had helped her a lot; she can feel her power getting stronger. But she needed to find out more about what she was up against. She needed to figure out how she would approach this.

Her mother, in her journal, talked about defining moments. 

There are times in my life that seem so mundane, so trivial, that I think of them as the bridges between my life's milestones. But, looking back, I realized that these mundane things, these trivial things, holds the answers to my most important questions.

My daughter, the other day, chose to be a witch for All Hallows' Eve instead of a princess. A mother cannot ask for anything more defining than that. Nor can a mother deny her daughter's fate when she found a ragged wolfhound pup whimpering on her doorstep.

I hope Alyssa looks to her moments to help her define her path. Fate, after all, requires choices.

Alyssa had been thinking about it for days now. How can fate require choices? Isn't that contradicting itself?

She paused for a bit in front of a salon.  Up until a couple of years ago, it used to be her mother's shop. She remembered her marvel at the rainbow colored glasses that carried her mother's wares. She also remembered spending afternoons there as a teen, wanting to go out with her friends but needing to help out to earn. Alyssa sighed. She could have gone and worked at the mall like what her friends did but she rather enjoyed watching and occasionally helping her mother make and sell her potions.

It clicked in her brain. 

She wasn't sure what did it, but suddenly, everything became clear to her.

Little moments, her mother said. The mundane. The trivial. Her being the witch instead of the princess for Halloween. Her choosing to help her mother instead of working near her friends. Her spending her summers in the island instead of in the city. Her deciding to move back in when her mother got sick. 

Dracula barked up at her.

She leaned down, rubbed his head. "And yes, me keeping you when your mom died giving birth to you and your brother."

She jogged down her driveway and unlocked the front door. Dracula bounded straight to the living room, gave a huge sigh, and settled at the foot of the couch.

Alyssa turned to the table by the door and picked up her mail. Sorting through it, she came upon a plain white envelope with the addresses handwritten in an enviably beautiful cursive. She opened it and as she read, one of those defining moments is presented to her.

The letter is from someone named Anna. It ended the same way her mother's letter to her ended.

Come home. Your sisters need you.

(This is the third part of the Daughters of the Blood Moon series)

Fleeting Peace

By Aline-Mwezi Niyonsenga

Time thickened. A strange viscosity made the world spin slowly around her as she paused on her way to her locker. The room around her was alive with chatter and buzzing movement; think bees and she was honey reflecting it all. 

There was Micah, lightly punching Aidan in the arm as their lips moved rapidly. At the far corner, her friend Kaira was shadowed by Takemi who leaned close towards her while Kaira murmured up at him. George and Laura passed by her, folders in hand, whizzing to class. There was her group of friends to the right of her, laughing over a laptop, a jolly scene that she edited herself out of just to see what it would look like. She took all these vignettes and placed herself in the cameraman’s feet.

…

The cameraman is not a character in this movie. The cameraman is an outsider. He sees, he documents, he does not intervene: not when Kaira looks away, not when Aidan glares at the table, not when her friends forget her completely. Simply watching, the cameraman can occupy a space untouched by time, for the briefest of moments, until he is forced back into the scene of his own miserable saga.

…

Finally, the honey fell away from her. She hungered after its sweetness, the dreamlike spot she had occupied, rich, quiet, peaceful as a plump golden Buddha. Already, her heart devoured its remnants until it ached for more and found that it would not be satisfied for some time yet. ‘Some time’ could be days, weeks, months, decades. What would she do? What could she do? Unable to settle like before, her wings beat harder, faster, until all she could do to keep herself from collapsing was to fly swifter than despair could pull her down.

Upon Each Desire

© Denis Fitzpatrick, 2015

 

     ‘He saw plainly the mysterious peculiarity that distinguishes every individual from every other individual.’ Leo Tolstoy, The Awakening

 

When Aika and Hideki Wakahisa both became parents together at the birth of their first child, they were also pleasantly surprised at the moment of the ensuing second expected birth, a twin, which was also a girl. She was born one minute and twelve seconds later than her elder sister. When mother was resting she was doing so in a hazy daze of a world filled with nothing but thoughts of endless, mutually attentive love. Hideki too was feeling like his wife, spending the visiting time in just holding her hand. Could things possibly get any better?

     But when Hideki made his visit the next day Aika was in full business mode. She had something to say about their daughters’ futures.

     ‘Firstly, Wakahisasan, thank you for bringing me our beautiful daughters, Kasumi and Sakura. My heart and breath are forevermore thine.’ Hideki blushed.

     ‘It is because I love our two daughters so much,’ Aika continued, ‘that I absolutely insist on raising them as unique individuals, not as exact copies of each other, doing everything the same, and without any real sense of life. My twin sister and I absolutely hated having to be exact copies of each other. Now I can make amends for that horrid life. And I expect you to help out in doing so.’

    ‘Anything you say, darling. Now let’s have a cup of tea.’

    Hideki drank the tea and pleasantly chatted with his one true love, and only briefly glimpsed the car that rocketed out of a side street into his own car on his way home afterwards. Hideki died almost instantly, still enwrapped in calming thoughts of a beautiful future. The driver of the other car was saved by his car’s airbag. He fled the scene but didn’t get far. He was found to be high on ice and obviously in a raving psychotic state.

     Aika, thankfully, took the news very calmly. The crash investigators found her number in Hideki’s wallet, on a slip of paper under the inscription, ‘Maternity Ward.’ Two female officers volunteered to convey the news, as both a support to each other and to Aika. Aika instantly felt that she had to look out for her daughters even more now. She was their only guardian. She thus felt she had no choice but to call upon her own sister’s help to look after the children. Finding another husband would take too long, and another one was not really wanted either.

     Akemi Morishige, Aika’s twin sister, the elder, was delighted to help. She got permission to leave work early to visit her sister (easy when you’re a physics professor at a distinguished Sydney university) and by the end of visiting hours they had come up with a simple, yet comprehensive, plan to bring up the two newborn girls. Akemi had always been single and was still waiting for the gentleman that turns a vague, hidden key deep within her. And if she did find this gentleman, well, then he’ll have to accept her charges along as well.

     Aika and Akemi envisioned no problems. Well, nothing that they couldn’t handle.

 

*

 

Problems there were indeed in rearing the girls, but both were right in knowing they could handle them. So well, in fact, that the family is now celebrating the twins graduating from university over an expensive dinner, with a PhD each, at the age of twenty-four. Kasumi and Sakura were the most talkative that they’d ever been.

     ‘My first million is going to my favourite parents,’ gushed Kasumi, the eldest, almost through her very first glass of French Champagne. ‘Easy money for an intelligent astronomer like me in the U.S.’

     ‘I’ve already vaguely outlined my Nobel Prize for Biology speech,’ said Sakura, mock seriously. ‘Biology is also going to be in high demand in pretty short order.’

     ‘How about we work together on something for the Nobel?’ asked Kasumi of her sister. ‘We could maybe do some xenobiology.’

     ‘Even work on some top secret stuff with the U.S. government,’ suggested Sakura.

     ‘Above top secret stuff is what you really want. Real history shaping stuff.’

     ‘On an intergalactic scale.’

     Thus they all spent the night, everyone pleasantly floating with pleasure, but also firmly grounded.

     This attitude carried through to the next day and both spent four weeks, twelve hours a day, in looking for jobs in their fields. They naturally both received several very generous offers of employment, thanks largely to the fact that they had good work experience and good work references, as well as excellent university results. Their choice was made exactly four weeks after their job search began and both chose AuCU, Aus Central University, because it had the best equipment. Sure the salary was a good bit lower but it was worth it in order to work with such well-maintained, precision instruments. It was also fantastic now that both of them had the world at their feet, side by side at AuCU. Who needs husbands?

     They began their new careers well but each continued onto two entirely different paths. Kasumi was offered an Associate Professor position after working at the university for only a little over a year. Kasumi had a natural rapport with the intelligent science students she lectured and her classes were also spoken of well by the students. Likewise marks under Kasumi were high and the university’s Chancellor saw her as a Godsend, a great researcher as well as a great teacher, who could also show the world that AuCU was indeed Central.

     Sakura fell in love instead. Seven months into her job as a biologist that was better than expected, she fell in love with a PhD candidate. The candidate, Rawson Peters, though, thankfully, made a pass at her first. Sakura was not expecting love, vaguely considered it to be bosh, a simple word to justify every animal’s fundamental need for sex, and as a result she was helpless in its throes. Which was the reason Rawson left her after six months – she was too needy. Sakura was devastated, always believing that true love, if it did exist (unlikely), is forever. Instead, true love passed, and there was nothing to replace it. Sakura took a week’s sick leave after Rawson had arrived to leave her. She could only eat dry toast and juice during the week off and was also sleeping a lot, both to dream of Rawson and to forget him. Kasumi, during a visit, eventually talked Sakura into returning to their parents’ place for a while. Have a good talk with them. A broken heart can be healed, by loving one’s mind, affirmed Kasumi.

    Sakura returned to normal in about a further two weeks at her parents’ place but resigned from the university. She told her family that it was because she might see Rawson there. In fact, she had to get out of the science field altogether, where Rawson was naturally bound to be. But what other work could she do? She knew only science.

     ‘Do you still go to art galleries?’ asked Kasumi, tentatively taking stock.

     ‘As often as I can, but that’s not often.’

     ‘So you’ve still got a bit of a feel for the art world?’

     ‘Yes. Why?’

    ‘How about we set up an art gallery?’

     ‘An art gallery?’

     ‘I saw Edvard Munch’s The Scream, when I was in Oslo a few weeks ago, at a conference, and actually seeing the great piece in real life made me realise that science makes people comfortable, but art, all art, answers the paradox of each our sentience. I really want to show that to people. Science gives answers but art really does give purpose and pure thought. So, what do you say? Our combined intelligence will easily bring us to the fore of the art world.’

     Sakura took no time to reply.

     ‘Of course I will. Just what I need, a complete change of scenery.’

     ‘Well, let’s start the plans for our distinguished centre of notable art.’

     Their gallery was well attended on its opening night, largely as a result of twelve weeks of intensive research into the art market and getting to know those important in the Sydney industry. The sales were excellent and they began their art career stunningly, their early days in the gallery being very profitable.

     So it was unexpected when Sakura wanted to leave the business, after ten months of continued excellent sales. After all, it was a lot of hard work. Sakura had no objection to hard work per se, but she no longer wanted to be a middleperson in the art world, a world she had come to adore because of its utter originality, and self-perpetuating nature. No, Sakura now wanted to set the trends. She was going to set herself up as an art critic, bound to set an entirely new tone to present art discourse. Naturally, she felt assured of achieving another goal.

     Achieving it was not to be though, the first thing in which she had failed. Sakura just couldn’t write a good art essay, despite the weeks she spent at it. Her sister was unable to help either, because she was busy running the gallery to repay the bank its business loan. Sakura quickly realised that she was an amateur writer, clumsy, and did not want to spend ten years (a hypothetical amount) in learning how to write well. An art critic she could not be. Working in science she still couldn’t do, in case she met Rawson again. She could have worked in policy, or maybe pharmaceuticals, but if she couldn’t work in Biology she didn’t really want to expend her energies in a false substitute. No, better to take an easy job and simply not worry about life anymore. She then tried looking for shelf packing jobs, and the like, but was repeatedly told she was overqualified. The constant rejections wore her down, never expecting science to be her downfall, and she eventually decided to take a small break from the job hunting. Her savings were also almost used up, so she may as well apply for unemployment welfare.

     Sakura soon realised she was almost destitute, her sister paying almost half of her rent (Kasumi could easily afford it though), and could see no reasonable way out. She considered leaving it all behind. Just walk out of her flat far from Sydney’s centre and opt out of the struggle for survival. Just walk out into the wilds about her neighbourhood. It sounded like bliss.

     Kasumi still doesn’t know where Sakura is, suddenly disappearing one morning. She left no note and the police could see no evidence of foul play. They couldn’t track her either by looking at her ATM card transactions, for she took her welfare out in one deposit from different places. She has also made no phone calls on her mobile, turned off. She also must have changed her clothing to avoid detection by CCTV along the route to the ATM. She was alive, thank God, but trying to be forgotten. Kasumi can only wait, hopeful Sakura will return.

 

~~~

 

If you have been enjoying Fitzpatrick's stories here you may also enjoy his short story collections, and other books, available at www.amazon.com as both Kindle books and paperbacks. Click this link to view them - http://amzn.to/1NfodtN Other ebook options are available through www.lulu.com; go to - http://bit.ly/1UsyvKD

    

    

    

Earthbound

by Lyra Reyes

Mist. She can't see through the mist. She was walking alone through an unfamiliar woodlands when the mists came and upped the creep factor of the already creepy walk along the woods. 

Where am I anyway? 

She turned when a twig snapped somewhere behind her. Okay. relax. Just the woods sounding all...woodsy. She  turned back to walk again when she heard the growl.

That is not woodsy.

Turning back, she saw shadows shifting. She watched in horror as something huge formed into shape. She first saw the eyes. Glowing red eyes. Then the glistening sharp fangs.

The wolf growled louder as it stalked toward her. She was paralyzed with fear. But she was mesmerized. I should run, she thought. But, as the wolf growled menacingly, she reached out her hand to the silver mark on its head.

The wolf lunged. Her body slammed painfully on the ground. Still, even as the wolf attacked her, she reached out and touched its head.

A bolt of fire came out of nowhere. The wolf howled in pain and burst into mist. As she started to lose consciousness, she heard a voice.

Your sisters need you. Come home.

___

"A triquetra."

Anna blinked, "A tri-what?"

"Triquetra. You mentioned the wolf had a mark on it's head that looked like a knotted three-edged leaf with a circle in the center, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. What does it mean?"

"I was so afraid of this."

"Of what?"

"Your sisters need you. You have to go home."

Anna stared at Aurora. She has been the steadiest force in Anna's life and it alarmed her to see the small, bubbly woman visibly shaken. "Mom. What sisters? What home?"

Aurora closed her eyes. My baby. Why my baby? So many generations have already passed, why now when it's Anna?

"Mom?" Anna whispered, watching her mother.

Aurora opened her eyes. "There's something I need to show you, Anna. Come with me."

___

Anna let out an irritated huff as the fire fizzled.

"Again."

 The fire rose. Then fizzled.

"Try harder."

"Mom."

Aurora smiled. "I'm sorry, baby."

"Fire is not my element, I think we've already established that."

"Well, it is very useful. Why don't you go take a break?"

"Okay." Anna gave Aurora a hug before heading out to the garden. She had always thought her mother's garden a fairytale; a jumble of different flowers seemingly haphazardly thrown together. At the very center, where a wooden bench rested under a foxglove tree, is where she spent her afternoons as a child.

Sitting there now, surrounded by what her mother and the earth has created, Anna closed her eyes and remembered that morning a fortnight ago, when her mother insisted she come up to the attic.

The attic has always been a puzzle for Anna. From the outside, it looked large enough for a room. Inside, though, it it was only large enough to hold several boxes of old clothes and knick-knacks. 

Or so she thought before Aurora dragged her up there after she told her about her dream.

Standing in front of the closet door, careful not to fall off the narrow floor separating the door from the stairs, Anna looked at the boxes and wondered why Aurora was looking at her with a mixture of excitement and worry.

"Uhm, mom?" Anna had said. "What are we doing here?"

Aurora looked around, rolled her eyes. "Sorry, baby. Here." Then, with a wave of her hand, changed Anna's life forever.

The door, the wall, the boxes all faded away and a large room gradually appeared in front of Anna's startled eyes. Row upon row of books hugged two walls.  A large mirror took up half of one wall, the other half of which is covered by a display case filled with jars of leaves and crystals of varying sizes and colors. Near the door stood a table groaning under the weight of more ancient books, a large bowl, a sickle, and a scythe.

But Anna was drawn to the center of the room where a large triquetra is burned on the wooden floor. Directly above it was a round skylight and the slanted ceiling was nothing more than clear glass.

"It's to make sure that the moon always lights the rituals." Aurora said.

"You practice Wicca?"

Aurora smiled, "of course, I do."

"Why is there an 'of course.' How is there an 'of course' when I asked you if you're practicing Wicca?" Anna asked.

"Well, because I'm a witch." Aurora said. "And so are you, baby."

Yeah, mom. Thanks for telling me that way, Anna thought now. She thought now of how she had chuckled at her mother's animated explanations of birthrights and legacies. Of how she conveniently forgot the sudden appearance of the attic and all it contained. Of how she reasoned to her mother that witches are stuff for fiction and that Wicca is a hoax.

Then she thought of her shock when Aurora, impatient at her disbelief, held out her palm and conjured a floating ball of water on her palm.

"Are you okay, darling?"

Anna shook out of her musings as she watched her mother walking toward her. Aurora was carrying one of the books from the attic. She scooted over and, when Aurora sat beside her on the bench, laid her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Yeah. Just thinking."

They sat quietly for a moment. Then Anna asked what she had wanted to ask since it all began. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep it hidden?"

Aurora sighed. "You do the oddest things to protect those you love, more so if those people come from you." She brushed Anna's hair back. "I never told you the story about the Four Sisters of the Blood Moon, right?"

"That sounds downright creepy, mom."

"I know," Aurora chuckled. "It is, a bit, which is why I never told you about it. But I'm going to tell you about it now. Which is why I brought this book. Everything is all here."

"You're going to read all that out loud?" Anna chuckled as she watched her petite mother struggling to balance the large book.

"Not all of it, smartass." Aurora flipped the book open. "Just this one part that would make a couple of things clear. The rest, you must read on your own."

Aurora settled in her seat and started to read. As her mother talked, Anna could easily picture it in her mind.

___

She stood on the edge of the cliff, unmindful of waves crashing and breaking on the rocks below. Heart filled with grief, she clutched the journal to her chest.

Preserve the legacy. Protect what comes after.

That was her duty. She'd known since she was a little girl. But, by the goddess, it hurts. She hadn't known just how much until she watched her sisters fall one by one. Until she had to recount how each of her sisters tried to vanquish the evil that threatened their island.

All that is left is her. Her sister's vision told her that if she succeeds, she will still be all that's left of the four women born when the same blood moon rode the sky. But the island and everything on it will be saved. If she fails, the island is lost.

She does not know which she fears more.

Preserve the legacy. Protect what comes after.

Forgive me, sisters. 

"Mother."

Looking back, she watched her daughter walk toward her. Lovely, fiery Kaiea with her long black hair and glistening tanned skin. She patted the ground beside her and waited until her daughter had settled.

"Kaiea, do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do."

"Then take this." She handed the journal to her daughter. "And leave."

Startled, Kaiea dropped the journal back in her mother's hands. "Leave?"

"I have talked to Etera. Before the sun sets today, you must go with him. He know where to take you. Bring this journal," she took her daughter's hands and closed them tightly on the book, "and provisions you need for a day."

"Mother.."

"If tomorrow the islands still stands, come back. If it doesn't - " she choked. Cleared her throat. "If there is no island to come back to, then you must live your life elsewhere."

"Mother, what..."

"Kaiea, listen, please," she pleaded. "We do not have enough time."

Taking a deep breath, she took her daughter's face in her hands. Her beautiful daughter. "There is something that I must do. Pray that I succeed. But whether I succeed or fail, this is the last time we will be together, my daughter."

"You are going after it."

"Yes."

"I will stay and help."

"No, Kaiea. Preserve the legacy. Protect what comes after. That is my duty - a duty that I now pass on to you." She dropped one of her hands on top of the book. "This journal will tell you everything you need to know. Study it. Pass it on." 

"Is there no other way?"

"I am not as strong as my sisters. I fear I cannot vanquish it. But I can hold it."

"Hold it?"

"Bind it to me. To the earth. If I fail, the burden of vanquishing it would fall on you. If I succeed, then the burden of arming what comes after would fall on you. Whatever happens, Kaiea, all I leave you are burdens. Forgive me, daughter."

Kaiea took the book in one hand and her mother's hand in the other. "Not burdens, mother. But duty of my birthright. You have always told me that certain duties are required of our birthright. I will do as you ask, mother. Not only because you ask, but because I am a daughter of a sister of the blood moon and it is now my duty."

___

"She failed." Anna said.

"No, she succeeded." Aurora replied. "The island still stands. Kaiea returned and did as her mother asked. Thirty generations separate the sisters of the blood moon from you. She has been able bind it for that long and Kaiea has done as she promised."

"Preserved the legacy."

"And so have I." Aurora said. "I was hoping that is all you have to do, too. Which is why I have not armed you as what is expected of me."

Aurora sighed. "I was hoping that I could pass on my duty to preserve the legacy when you turn twenty-five. But it seems, my darling, that you are now called to protect what comes after."

"And how, exactly, can I do that?"

"Go home. Your sisters need you."

(This is the second part of the Daughters of the Blood Moon series)