Mark of Betrayal

“It’s a sacrificial right,” Arthur said. “It completes the process of your transformation.”



“Into a Lilithian?”



“Yes.”



“How?”



“Like a person being baptised,” he said.



“Baptised? But I don't believe in God.”



“That is irrelevant,” Arthur’s tone was a little harsher than usual.



“Yes, see, Your Majesty, that Stone has power,” Moustache Man said with a bit of a stutter. “It is said to be the scale that measures balance between all living things.”



“And when you make a promise to assist it, you become a part of Nature’s army,” a woman in a pink blouse said, “like a bee or a seed, helping keep things in greater order—all life.”



“What, like, I can make a plant grow by touching it?” I half laughed.



“It is not just the plants you will command,” Moustache Man said, “but the animals—all creatures that walk this earth.”



“All living creatures,” someone corrected.



“Yes,” Moustache Man amended.



“Well, what un-living creatures are there, if vampires aren’t undead?”



The room grew silent. Everyone seemed to have an answer but no one wanted to say it.



“Ghosts?” I asked, smiling under high arched brows of sarcasm.



“The issue at hand here is not what you will rule, but what you must do before you can,” Arthur said.



“And, so, I’ll be a complete Lilithian vampire when I make my oath on the Stone?”



“Once the full ceremony is complete, yes.”



“I don't really understand how a simple coronation can change things.”



“Again, like making your Confirmation in God’s church, you will be bound, the slit of which your purity and your power enters and leaves your soul will, essentially, be sewn shut—set in stone. You will be one with Mother Nature.”



“Cool. So, if Drake’s destructive and cruel, not really balancing things, how come the Stone lets him rule? Can't it just do some mumbo jumbo magic and get rid of him?”



“The Stone is not there to maintain balance. It is a gateway—an energy point that connects the earth and all living creatures to the human world. It has no power to change things itself,” Morgaine said. “It needs…assistants. Bodies connected to this realm, of which can do its bidding.”



“Like me,” I said.



“Yes.”



“And, so Drake was, what, fired?” I asked.



“No. Drake never made an oath on the Stone. He commissioned the monarchy and the laws, and is deemed ruler by law, by vote, but it is the one who Nature deems worthy that counts. He can remain on the throne of the vampires, but once you make your oath and prove your worth, Mother Nature will deem you the only ruler—like Lilith before you.”



“Right, and with Her backing,” Portly Woman said, “Heaven help any who try to get in your way.”



“So, do we really need to catch Drake and let this prophecy child kill him? Can't we just coexist, you know, he can rule the vampires and I rule all else?”



“Drake has become a power hungry man,” another said. “He serves a purpose outside maintaining balance now, and that is why Fate has placed you here, it is why there is a child prophesised to kill him, it is why we must not allow him to continue.”



“Well, what’s so bad about him? What’s he doing that deems him worthy of death?”



“Black magic. He incurred a curse on this land many centuries ago, and the runes of the old language once said the curse would come again, with a great darkness commissioned by Drake—around the time of a new queen’s rising.”



“Runes?”



“Yes,” an old man said. “Aside from prophecies on parchment, written in languages most can no longer read, by a vampire no one has seen in centuries, we Lilithians have been predicting futures by use of stones marked with Symbols.”



“And you predicted me?”



“Yes. But not this prophecy child.”



I sat up, suddenly more interested, while the rest of the table shushed the old man.



“No, wait, I want to hear this. So…you think there’s no child?”



“Oh, no, there is a child, but she is of little significance—in this chapter of Drake’s story, anyway.”



“But…will she be the one to free the Damned?”



“I’ve not had any…” The old man shook his head a few times, looking at the man who pretty much looked like his double. “I don't believe we’ve prophesised such a possibility.”



“But Vampirie did, right?” I said, then looked at Arthur, who stared at Morgaine, his eyes narrowed with thought.



“Yes,” she said, suddenly sitting taller. “That’s what we’ve deciphered.”



“Well…” I looked back at the old man. “Vampirie says one thing; what did you predict?”



“Two paths,” the old man said. When he stood, I noticed the grey cloak he wore, very out of place among the modern suits and sequined dresses. “A great queen would rise and give birth to a new Order, where two kinds would live in peace. She will defeat the evil for love of a child, but the story will not end there.”



“Well, what happens next?” I realised I was sitting really far forward.



“We…we don't know,” he said in a shaky voice and sat back down.



“Darkness,” his double said. “As if the path does not exist, or perhaps has no determination.”



“What, like a plan-your-own-future story?”



“Perhaps, or perhaps a decision must be made before the door opens.”



I nodded to myself. “So, you said there were two paths? What was the other one?”



Another old man stood, tucking his long beard to his chest as he bowed to me. “A curse, Majesty. If you choose the wrong path, a Darkness will rebirth the curse on these lands. We have seen it—seen death, destruction.”



“So, how can we stop that from happening? Did you get any clues?”



“One.”



I waited.



“Love must offer life.”



“Life?”



“Yes. Nhym, in the old language,” said the man in the grey cloak.



“Well, how do we do that? Is it, like, I offer my life in service, or sacrifice myself on the Stone? What do we do?”



“The door to any path reveals itself as you walk, Princess.” The man standing sat back down. “When the time comes, you will know.”



“And what—in the meantime, I get some freaky power from Mother Nature by making an oath on some stone?”



“That is not just some stone,” Grey Sideburns said. “It is connected deeply to your roots—to Vampirie’s mother, Lilith—your ancestor. Do not have such little respect.”



The idea that facts surrounded her story made me feel connected—made me feel a part of myth and legend, as if I knew Lilith once. “So she was real? Lilith?”



“No one has proved she either existed or that she didn't. So, until they do, we have only stories and faith,” Arthur said, raising his glass.



“Like God.”



He smiled at me. “Precisely.”



“Okay.” I shrugged. “Well, I’ll give it a go. Bring on this coronation and let’s see if I really do have Mother Nature’s backing, then I’ll go catch Drake myself.”



“And do what with him?” Arthur asked.



I looked around at all the faces; they wanted me to say kill, but I wasn't going to do that unless I really had to.



“Kill him,” Morgaine said, jamming her heel into my ankle.



“Ouch—ur, yeah.” I sat back. “Figure out how to kill him, I guess.”



“You’ll have a fight on your hands. You must make sure you’re strong before you do this.”



I nodded. That much, I knew. But it was like going to a party that hadn’t listed a dress code on the invitation; I had no idea what to expect. For all I knew, he could be like the Head Boss in a video game—a riddle I had to figure out on the spot, and I was sure there wouldn’t be any ‘power up’ cartridges or ‘health packs’ lying around when I reached a hundred points.



“I disagree. From a tactical standpoint, sending an inexperienced fighter—a young girl—to catch an ancient warrior is a bad idea. I mean, this is Ara we’re talking about—” Mike presented me, looking at Eric then Morgaine. “She’s not capable of something like that.”



“Perhaps you just need a little faith, yourself, Michael,” Arthur said. “I don't believe you know what that girl is capable of.”



“I train with her. I taught her everything she knows. She can't even fight off a mob of human attackers yet. How’s she gonna measure up against Drake?”



“Once she has made her oath, her powers will enrich,” the old cloak man said. “Give her a chance before you place limitations on her.”



Mike sat back. I knew he wouldn’t believe I could just become more powerful by spilling blood on some rock and making a promise; it wasn't factual enough for him. He needed something tangible, a weapon—a heavy object he could throw, not a mythical story passed down from old man to old man, translated from several different languages since its inception. And maybe he was right not to place too much faith in oracles. But, at the same time, the idea of the runes really sparked my interest. They held more worth, in my mind, than some half-ripped, hard to read prophecy Morgaine, who wasn’t even an expert, had deciphered. I wanted Arthur’s opinion on what the prophecy said. But he hadn’t mentioned it to me at all—like he was avoiding it.



“Anyway, right now, it’s not Amara’s battle with Drake you need to prepare her for, Mike,” Morgaine said. “It’s the Walk of Faith.”



“What's the Walk of faith?” I asked, and everyone groaned.



Mike swallowed.



“You didn't tell her?” Morgaine looked right at him.



“I…I was going to.” He scratched the back of his neck.



“What is it?”



“In order to seal your oath, you must prove your worth,” Morgaine said. “This is the right of passage Arthur mentioned.”



“A walk is a right of passage?”



“Yes, see, to prove you have the courage and strength to rule, you will take the path of treachery, walk darkness in isolation, to find hope and bring it back to your people.”



“How do you find hope? It’s not a thing; a stick, a pebble, a—”



“It’s a metaphor,” Morgaine said. “Basically, by doing the walk you’re finding the hope—or whatever.”



“Oh. Okay, so I have to walk. What’s the big deal?”



“You start it after you swear your oath—a part of the ceremony that will weaken you, both physically and spiritually,” Moustache Man said.



“Yes, and you must leave the border of the forest before dawn.”



“Why before dawn?”



“Because if you don't, a; you will be trapped in there for eternity.”



I rolled my eyes.



“And b; you will have failed your people. You will not be crowned as queen.”



“Oh.” I looked down at my plate. “So, I just wander around the forest for the night, that’s it?”



“It won't be that simple, my lady,” Arthur said. “It will be pitch black, you will be exhausted, burning from your markings and—”



“There are…things in the forest,” Portly Woman interrupted. “Only myths and stories have been told of the dangers you must face and the fears you must overcome to prove your worth, but even those are enough to see brave men run.”



“Yeah, or it’s just a forest and she draws pictures in the dirt with a stick for the night and walks up the hill as the sun starts to show,” Eric said.



“Well—” Morgaine folded her napkin. “We’ve no way of knowing. Not one who entered that forest after making an oath ever came out—except Lilith.”



“There were others?”



“Yes, but they were not proved to be Lilithians.”



“Why?”



“There was no way of proving it.”



“Why?” I said, sure it was becoming my new favourite word. “It’s easy enough to prove—just give them a vampire for lunch and see if he dies from the bite.”



“And where do you propose we’d have gotten one of those?” someone else asked. “Do you think Drake would just hand one over—let us kill it? If he knew those of us who weren't imprisoned in the cells were searching for a pure blood all these centuries, he’d have had us all beheaded.”



I touched my hand to my collarbones; to the place I could only pretend I had my locket. “Okay, so, this Walk of Faith is quite possibly fatal?”



“Possibly,” Morgaine said, issuing a stern glare down the table. “But not likely.”



“You don't have to do this, baby.” Mike reached across and rubbed my shoulder blade.



“Yes, I do.”



“No. You don't. This is your life, Ara, if you don't want to—”



“Look, Mike, disagreeable obligations don’t relieve a princess of her duties—you of all people would be the first to tell me that.” I looked around the table. “This changes nothing.”



Everyone looked at their dinner, except Arthur, who bowed his head to me and smiled. Mike sat back, but his face burned pink with rage and his eyes fixed to one spot on his plate.