1Chosen Blood
Rated for language and violence. It gets a T as of now, but may change to M later on in the story.
Amorya
I am Amorya. Life is my constant. Death, my reality. Bare with me. I recall as best I can. Memories flash by in my head, a new one everyday, waiting to be pieced together. Forgive me if what you read may seem far-fetched, but this is my life...this is my death. This is Sinyona's life and death. Our truths.
I was born into a poor desert family. I do not recall the name of my mother, for she died shortly after my birth, but my father was Tareq. I remember him well enough to know I loved him very much, but he fathered many children who soon became to much for him. The oldest of his brood were sent away while the young ones were to stay with their mothers. I went to live with relatives. I wasn't there long before I was taken away to England. See the year was 1676, not great times for others of my heritage, but I was lucky. I worked for my life then. The prospect of a new life will get a girl a long way.
I cannot bring to mind the month of my death nor can I remember exactly the circumstances of that event. I do not know my maker. He left me broken and dying on a London street, and I was reborn.
I spent decades wandering. I was a closed book for most of my young vampiric life until a chance meeting with a young man in the new world. He was a couple of years out of boyhood when I found him dying. He was alone and I wondered who could leave him to die this way. Of all the things I've done in my life and all the lives I have taken nothing seemed as bad as leaving him there. I sat there holding him, feeling the last of his heartbeats pounding against my chest, remembering what it felt like to have a heartbeat of my own. I did the best and only thing I could do for him. I gave him life. In those first years I sheltered him as if he were my child, but our relationship could not have been further from that of a mother and son. Even though we could not initially speak the same language, our connection was deep. I loved him then. I love him always.
The story of how I came to know Sinyona is a short one. The tale of how we became friends and eternal allies, however, is a much longer one and will comprise most of this book. I heard of her great sorcery. She was famous for it throughout Europe. There were whispers of her skill in Necromancy. I went to visit her in Paris, and I caught word from many powerful magicians of all sorts that she had a small shop on Gourmont Square by the name Mind Expanse.
I needed her badly. A priest by the name of Father Diston Grynwahl was informed of a secret, a secret kept by the underworld, kept in the most care, and by the most powerful of all demons. A secret, so important that the entire underworld, known throughout the centuries and millennia as Hell, was on pins and needles the very day that a demon, under a certain priest's temporary control, confessed. The demon's head could have exploded the moment the words left his lips to be heard by a Saint, for Father Grynwahl was known for as much. That demon is no longer in existence due to the wrath of Lucifer, a dark Sorcerer, a leader and Warrior, and a malicious Wizard of the Dark Arts. Lucifer reigns in his land, the land of the dead, the fire and the damnation. He rules without passion, basing his every decision on nothing but the sacrifice of everything wishing of hope.
Father Grynwahl, however, was not punished by Lucifer. Lucifer has Allies, believe it or not. Allies that no form of Humani would even consider: The Witch of Endor, several of the Dark Elders from the first million years of existence, and many other strong and powerful Sorcerers and Magicians. He chose The Witch of Endor to dole out this punishment. She would be the most cruel.
She sent Father Grynwahl to death while still being alive.
This, among all other things, would silence him, and personally make him pay for bribing a demon, with faith, for such a secret. I needed to get to him. I knew that the chances of Sinyona being able to get him back to life would be slim, but Necromancy is not my field. I wouldn't be able to say what could make that happen, and what could prevent it. Sinyona could, and so I found myself in her loft. Asking questions. This is where our story begins. The place in time where love, beyond the shadows of death, can surpass. The place in time where hate also has the same limitations.
This is Chosen Blood.
There is the prologue for Chosen Blood. There may be (depending on the response to this) a companion prologue from Sinyona's point of view since this was originally supposed to be a collaboration with my BFF (Sinyona was her character). I won't post it unless you ask.
Thanks for reading, and don't be too shy to leave a review.