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- 10/09/2015
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Holly and the Ivy - 2. The Letter
The Holly and the Ivy
Chapter Two
It was a strange sensation, being hot and cold at the same time. Something warm and solid was in front of me, yet the back of my head felt cold. A shiver ran down my spine and I instinctively tried to get closer to the warmth. Until my brain booted, and I realized I was cuddling with someone lying beside me. I rolled quickly away. Pain spiked through my head, making me lie still. I panted through the hurt, until it became bearable, then slowly opened my eyes to a concerned face hovering over me. Again. Diarmad? At least I knew the guy this time. “What happened?”
“I’m so sorry Noël. When Ronan saw you leaping up from your chair, he thought you were going to attack me. He is my bodyguard and reacted on instinct. Your head hit the wall pretty hard. Moira says you have a concussion. She gave you something for the pain, but it makes you sleepy, and someone had to watch you.”
“And you volunteered to be the someone who’s holding an ice pack against my head?”
He shrugged. “Yes. As useless as I am right now, that’s something I can do at least.”
“Hmm…” I felt queasy and my head was spinning. They must have given me some strong stuff; I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Still, I had to know what my grandma’s friend was doing at the cabin of Landyn’s boss. This was so confusing. “You’re one of Landyn’s friends too?”
“Sleep, Noël. I promise I’ll explain everything to you later.” I thought I felt his hand in my hair as I drifted back to sleep.
Next time I woke up, Diarmad Guerin was sleeping beside me. I could watch him unnoticed. With his face relaxed, he looked a little better than he had before. Still, there were dark circles under his eyes. He was deathly pale, thin, his clothes were much too big on him. He must have gotten seriously ill since I last saw him. Then I remembered he had said: ‘as useless as I am…’. Maybe he was dying. And suddenly I felt oddly protective of a man I barely knew. I wanted to know what was going on, if there was a cure. I wanted him to live. Ridiculous.
Diarmad seemed to feel me watching him; when I looked again, his eyes were wide open, and he pulled back from me. “How are you feeling?”
I still remembered the searing pain I had felt when I had moved too fast earlier and sat up very carefully. “Much better; the headache is almost gone.” I gingerly touched the backside of my head. “I can feel only a slight bump. I guess the ice pack helped reducing the swelling.” I checked along my arms next. “There are some bruises on my forearms and from the feel of it, on my back also. They will be gone soon. I heal fast, always have.”
With some effort, Diarmad settled himself beside me against the headboard. “I bet.” When the silence was getting awkward, he took in a deep breath. “Look, I know you have questions. I’ve been thinking for weeks about how to explain this to you.”
Explain? This? And for weeks?
“I decided to take the coward’s way out and let somebody else do it. Somebody you know and trust.” He passed me a light green envelope, the same type my grandmother had always used.
“Is this…” turning the envelope around in my hand, I looked at him with my heart in my throat.
“Yes. Your grandmother wrote this letter for you. I asked her to do it in case…” He swallowed a few times. “Read it and then we will talk.” He hesitated briefly. “Do you want me to leave the room?”
“No…no,” I said absentmindedly, already opening the letter with my thumb. I found two sheets of paper, and inhaled sharply. He had said the truth. I recognized my grandmother’s neat handwriting.
Noël – Diarmad Guerin asked me to write this letter to you.
“You asked her to write this? Why?”
He shook his head. “Please Noël, just read, then we talk.”
Who was he? Why did he have a letter for me from my grandmother? So many questions. I wanted answers, but I could tell he wouldn’t give them to me until I had read the letter.
I didn’t want to, but you will learn very fast how persuasive he can be. He said if there ever is a chance you will believe anything of this, it has to come from me. Something happened and I can’t talk to you personally, for which I apologize. I neglected my duty to you and the king.
Nana would never neglect her duty. What king?
But enough with all this dancing around. You know me as a person who always addresses a problem head on, so that is exactly what I’m going to do now. You are the strongest. You will understand and not shirk your duties.
The strongest of what? Or who? I looked up, but Diarmad had closed his eyes, clearly signaling he wouldn’t talk to me until I had finished the letter.
For many centuries, two societies have lived together on Earth, to the benefit of both, human and Seraei. Not many humans know about them, because they have the ability to look like us and stay mostly by themselves.
Aliens? I snorted. Diarmad opened his eyes, and scowled at me. “Read!”
When the Seraei are born, they are Aparta, loosely in our language this means single. After reaching adulthood, they start the search for their destined mate, who will not only be their lover, but also a corresponding spirit they need to outbalance their own. Without him or her, they will wither away and eventually go mad. Their mate can’t be a Seraei but must always come from another species, logically on Earth this would be a human.
Wither away? I couldn’t help myself and stole another glance at Diarmad. He looked sick, as if something was sucking the life force from him. “Read!”
There usually is no immediate pull like you see it in the movies. After Seraei find their other half, they approach them carefully and try getting to know them. They court them, and if they fall in love and want to stay together, they eventually celebrate the joining ritual. It equals our marriage, afterwards Seraei and human become Kune, which means together. From now on we share their extended lifespan; and sometimes, depending on the strength of the Seraei, some of their powers.
I couldn’t help it. I snorted again. Extended life span…maybe wings too?
Most of the Seraei living on Earth now are also born here. There are others, the Ancients, who came here ages ago from another world. These leaders have a more complicated way to mate. Their soul is too powerful too old; it can’t be outbalanced just by one human soul, it needs two. Once they meet the human bearing the first half of their future mate’s spirit, they live in a relationship based mostly on friendship and fraternal love. After this human dies, his or her soul will be reborn, joined with the soul of their final mate.
Holy crap! Those Seraei have a very complicated life.
Noël, keep in mind the human will never be forced. If they don't fall in love with the Seraei, they are free to live their life, never to be bothered again. They are made to forget the Seraei exist.
One person with two souls? How could this work?
It's very difficult for the Ancients to find their final mates. This is where my Order helps them. We have a special aptitude to find joined souls and locate their Seraei mates.
“She was a member of an order? This gets better and better…”
“Noël…”
“Yes, yes…Read. I know.”
Their King hasn’t completed his circle yet, because for him it is even more complicated.
Of course.
His soul is the most powerful and gains power still. To outbalance and anchor him, he needs three strong human souls, each with another purpose. The first represents the Servant. The second is his loyal friend and Brother. It is the third person who has to be the strongest, because he is not only 'the glue' for three shared personalities, but also the Sire’s lover and partner… who equals him in every way. He will be the only one who has the right to counter the King, if necessary. There are decisions that need to be made by both of them; for they both have to be in agreement.
Everything I have told you so far might be unbelievable and even shocking in itself,
You don’t say.
still, it's not the reason I'm writing this letter.
No, it should help you to understand who you are.
Who I am? Then it clicked in my head. King. Diarmad had the letter. KING Diarmad? “You’re their king?” He didn’t answer me. “Hey! I asked you a—”
“Noël, please read the letter.”
I itched to throw the letter into his face. I wanted to say: Enough with this bullshit! But there was something…I could almost put my finger on it…a feeling – no a knowledge, buried deep in my mind... Could this really be true?
King Diarmad met the first and the second soul, but then had to wait centuries for the third to be born. Seventeen years ago, his waiting ended. It was my third grandson who showed the unique ability to harbor and eventually merge two joined souls together with his own. He is the strongest, destined future mate of the King.
“What?”
Yes that’s right; you are the one.
No!
I can see the outrage on your face, Noël. How could I not tell you! Because you could never know any of this, it would have been against their law. It protects the innocent from undue influence on the part of their older mates. Therefore, even though he is their king, like every other unmated Seraei, Diarmad can only see you once a year until you’re eighteen. He could never reveal who he is to you, nor could I.
“That’s why she made me talk to you every year at Christmas Mass since I was three!”
And if this wouldn’t be enough already, fights for leadership broke out among the Seraei on Earth. We fear that one of the factions might try to prevent the King from finding his mate and completing the cycle by killing you. Therefore, you needed special protection. Only a few could know of your existence. If ever something were to happen to you, the King's soul would never find balance and he would die without the chance to be reborn.
As one of your protectors, I swore to guard you at all costs, so if you’re reading this I most likely died doing my duty. Please don’t be sad, be proud of me, like I am of you, my grandson the King’s mate.
One last thing: Fear not. You can always refuse the mating. It is still by your own free will. If you can’t love him, King Diarmad is prepared to die.
Love can't be forced. A Seraei mating doesn’t work without love.
I always thought how horrible it must be to get a letter from a dead person, so I am writing this in the hope you will never see it, and I can burn it after your eighteenth birthday.
I love you.
Nana Eleanora
My hands trembled as I folded the letter and put it back in its envelope.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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