Arroba: The Awakening - Chapter Seventeen.

Fantasy written by Kerri-Emmitt on Friday 24, September 2010

Member Avatar
Description
Chapter Seventeen - If you have been following this story then this chapter is not one to miss; it

Overall Rating: 91.066666666667%

This writing has been rated by 3 members, resulting in a rating of 91.066666666667% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:94%
Imagery:93%
Spelling & Grammar:88%
Flow/Rhythm:90%
Vocabulary:90.333333333333%
They lead me to the bed and the man to my left grabs my legs and Ali guides my body onto the bed so I'm in a horizontal position - I do not fight. They strap my hands and feet to the bed in turn - I do not protest. They cover me in an organza, olive green sheet - I do not scream. Then they walk away and I'm sure it is the last time I will ever see him. My eyes follow his back, trying to remember his face as well as they possibly can. They then jump to his soft shining, dark hair and my fingers tingle with the memory of how all of that thickness feels through my hands. He finally walks out of my view and then I scream, wordlessly, until I think my lungs will burst and spill blood up into my mouth drowning me. Once I regain a little breath I scream again and this time it's a long continuous "no"... they have won. At some point a while later my voice cracks and I can no longer scream but my arms and legs work just fine so I strain and thrash against the leather that holds me to the bed regardless to the fact that my wrists eventually begin to bleed again. Of course I know I should stop because of that and the fact that it won't do me any good but my mind has caught back up after being blinded by Alistair's presence and part in all of this and now I don't want to go so quietly; why should I? They have forced this on me, they have kidnapped me and kept me here against my will, and they have and will try again to break me in a way I can never repair from. I owe them no respect. The strange raven haired man of earlier approaches the bed and begins to talk. "If you have quite finished you're protesting, Dione, I would like to explain what is going to happen," He pauses for me to acknowledge him but all I can do is give him a very hard stare which then causes him to shake his head and sigh heavily, "This would be so much easier for everyone involved if you would just accept your fate graciously. We may even have offered you a softer approach to your immortalisation but as it stands, we feel we owe you no such thing." I interrupt him. "HA! You owe me my freedom!" "No Dione, you are a creature of the Justice now. You owe us your servitude, dedication and respect. We owe you nothing," He brushes the front of his cloak down and then continues, "Well this is what's going to happen. Fifteen people will now surround this bed and begin the ceremony of immortalisation but we have added an extra little weapon against your unbreakable barriers. Alistair will assist us in this, he is our key. We need you to feel, we need your strong iron wall to fall so we can penetrate you," An awful, sly smile spreads his lips, "You will remain calm, if you do not we will cast a binding spell upon thee so it is your choice. This will happen whether you want it or not." I interrupt again but this time my voice is a bare feather of a whisper. "Yes, I have lost, I know." He frowns at me, his lips pouting slightly with his expression. I'm betting he has not felt confusion much. "This is not a game, nor is there any aspect of winning or losing. Everyone gains, everyone wins when they are inaugurated - this is a gift not a punishment." "Really? I do not think you're so fair Sovereign see it that way. Maybe it is you that is a little confused, maybe it is you that has been left in the dark. But no, that is too incomprehensible for you, isn't it." Again he frowns and I can see his mind wonder to other things for a moment but unfortunately for me he gathers himself very quickly. "Enough of your riddles, Dione. Do as I say and this will go ahead, without problems." He gives me one last curious look and then walks away from the bed. And just as the raven haired man had promised, many people - well men - surround the bed and then the raven haired man begins to address the congregation again. "Behold fellow Amarians, our people of just, here are the Abaddon - the fifteen Arroba bound angles of the Sixty Six legions. They come here to immortalize Dione Snow - the Marcusees witch - the last, this very evening." There is lots of whispering and oo's and ahh's as the man takes a moment. "Now I know this is a little unusual ladies and gentleman. They are here to perform this rite because Dione has proved herself to be of the highest calibre of witch and we would hate for this to fail so we have called upon them; our most powerful guides, our most worshiped men from the legions. They will now perform the rite and Alistair will help, he is our key in achieving this. I urge you all to remain silent and focused. Thank you." I look up into the faces of fifteen cloaked men and I feel my soul crack with ice. They look identical, like fifteen twins all with exactly the same faces. All with huge shining black eyes that seem to swallow their whole faces, with long shimmering, white hair the shade of untouched snow and skin even whiter. Holy mother, the Goddess Danu, help me! I look from each of them as my heart threatens to break through my chest and watch as they each in turn lift their heads to the ceiling and raise their hands palm down above my body. A few moments later and they all look down at me one by one as if a switch is being flicked for every individual one of them. Then their eyes begin to shine with black light and that's when I can't take it any longer and I scream. "Alistair! Help me!" My voice booms around the huge room and echoes back at me but of course no one comes, not even Alistair. I'm surrounded by a wall of men more powerful than all of them; there will be no rescue. A huge part of me just wants to keep screaming and thrashing around to make it as hard as possible for them to concentrate but the other, more logical and sensible part of me has already accepted that we have lost, that this is going to happen and that part of me wins over the rest of it. My body grows quiet and I let my head lull back, closing my eyes and my mind away from the strange men standing above me. I feel the bed move and I can't breathe. I desperately try to convince myself that it's just the angels around me continuing on with the rite but, of course I know the truth. Then I feel hands slide over my bloodied wrists and my body shakes under them. He settles half on and half off of me and his warmth penetrates through the many layers of my dress. For just that moment, for a milli second I feel so comforted by his warm weight that it feels as if the whole world is cuddling my soul. But I know I can't let myself feel this, I have to block it out, no matter how much it hurts to do it. So I tell myself I'm not feeling this... I have to imagine his weight doesn't feel like a glorious pressure of comfort and security but this proves nearly impossible. I didn't set out into this relationship three months ago and think 'I must keep a magic impenetrable shield to erect whenever needed in my inside pocket;' even if such a thing existed I wouldn't have been prepared for this. Things just do not happen that way, he is Ali for goodness sake - my only love and my only nemesis all at the same time - he is that big, frightening and important all together, so how can I possibly ignore him when he's been the only peace surrounding me for so many years? It would be like peeling away your own skin because you need your flesh underneath to breathe; you wouldn't do it because all there would be is pain to do so. But nether the less, that is exactly what I have to try to do now, I have to try to shut my emotions down otherwise the angels will slip in and I'm not going to let that happen no matter how much it hurts. I can't let them take my mortality. I feel Ali's warm breath on my neck and I jump. In my ranting I had successful forgotten he was there - who would think my endless, mad rambling would actually have a physical purpose - but I have felt him now and am so suddenly aware of his body wrapped around me. He pulls away a little and moves himself more over to the side of me, he then sweeps his hands down my bare arms and my body instantly reacts. "Look at me Dione." He whispers His voice is like an intoxicating puff of smoke; it slips over my skin, soaking into every pore and thrilling me to the bone. So much so my back arches a little and a moan I have no words for bursts from my lips. WHAT THE HELL! My mind is screaming. He has resorted to using magic on me and of an erotic nature as well, how dare he! But all of my senses have been so over loaded by him I can't put the pieces together. I know he's using magic on me and yes, I feel rage for that and know I should be screaming at him but I can't; I am physically incapable of doing anything such thing. It's almost like all of that is locked behind an invisible barrier, only letting my desire leek through. Oh my Goddess, what has he become? "Dione, open your eyes and look at me." His voice is light and rich all at the same time; it calls to me and I can do nothing other than do as he asks and I open my eyes. My eyes fly open and search for his immediately. When they find the sparkling pools that are his eyes I can feel the ravenous desire seething from my own so intensely it should have scorched his face. His on the other hand are blood shot and desperate. Okay, so here's my reality check. In any normal situation with the way I feel right in this moment his eyes don't match what should be following next. I think this confusion is what helps clear my head; either that or he has eased up with his spell-casting. His eyes boar into me as if he is trying to tell me something, but what? I open my mouth to ask him but then another wave of need washes over me and all I can do is pant and wither against the bed, yet some part of me still remains untouched because I manage to whisper through breathes and clenched teeth. "You do not need to cast a spell to make me want you, it takes little effort! It retreats a little then and I meet his eyes again just in time for me to see him wiping his hand across his eyes, discarding his fallen tears. His eyes flash to mine and turn ice cold in a second, "I'm sorry I have to do this."
   

Post Comment

Please Login to Post a Comment.

Comments

    A couple of word choices: his folk down onto his plate. - should be fork........soar should be sore.......prey should be pray......boar should be bore......steal should be steel......advice should be advise.

    Now, you are right in your comment, Kerri. You do need to break this up. There are a lot of logical places where you could break it into three, even four chapters. The opening, the confrontation with Pandora, the arrival of the Angels, the goddess possessing Dione, the bonding with Ali.....you get the picture. Good plot.
    (Rubbing my eyes) Yes, you will break this into several chapters now that you have it out of your system and on paper.

    This tale continues to intrigue me, Kerri. Usually I pass on women writers figuring it will be just a chick thing. Not this, though.
    Sorry it's taken me so long to work my way through this.

    It was well worth it though. The plot turns are excellent and the characterisations and dialog are well up to standard.

    I enjoyed this, but I agree; there are at least two chapters here, perhaps three.