"I'm dying." When the words escaped Keshiema's lips, wounds appeared, covering her frail body. Fotiá caught her as she fell forward, momentarily blacking out from the sudden onslaught of intense pain. Regaining herself, she pushed away from him and stood. Afraid she might fall again, he watched her movements carefully, ready to catch her.

  Fotiá looked over her injuries as he spoke, waiving a hand over her arms. “Thia should stop your body from bleeding, at least." The worst of the lacerations rapidly healed over. "Lets hope Time is on your side while you're here.” He looked into her eyes, and again his told a story of great loss and suffering. In those moments he looked tired, haunted by ancient memories.

  The spark relit.in his eyes and he quickly broke the gaze. “Your Primordial bloodline is fully awakened. Who is attacking you that you could not escape from?”

  Wrapping her arms around herself, Keshiema desperately fought off images of Adramelech dragging his claws across her stomach. “The king. Some prophecy said I might kill him.”

  “Which king?” Fotiá locked eyes with her. “Paimon? His son's essence is lingering around your soul. He must be visiting you a lot?”

  “Damien is Paimon son," she mumbled. The reminder was always a bit jarring; She kept forgetting that detail. Fotiá frowned at Ipos's preferred name. "Adramelech is the only king left alive." The words were bitter, almost as foul as the king's rancid aura. "I've been training with his and Balam's sons to-"

  "Balam's sons?!" Fotiá snarled, "The Reapers?"

  "Um, yes? Is there a problem?" She gritted her teeth at being interrupted. 'Of course there's a problem! None of these damn people get along with each other!'

  "Primordials are like a drug to Reaper-Daemons. Our scent to them is irresistibly captivating, violently seductive, overwhelmingly addictive." Each descriptor had her stomach dropping another notch. "Our essence makes them crave our bodies for both food and pleasure."

  Heart racing, thoughts spinning wildly, Keshiema swallowed the lump in her throat. "Noted." Her hair and eyes were a mix of silver and white as she thought about Eurynome's past behavior. Samael had never gotten close to her, so it made sense he had never had a reaction.

  Fotiá sighed. "I apologize. I'm sure that's a lot to take in. And I interrupted you. Please continue."

  "Right." She shook off her nerves, and took a deep breath. When her colors returned to normal, she continued. "So there's this prophecy that says I'll battle Adramelech. One of us will kill the other, but the outcome is still uncertain. The princes have been training me in preparation. I was supposed to be on my way to meet back up with them.”

  “And you can’t fight off a demon? With your bloodlines awakened you should be a powerhouse, and one measly ass-bird has you beat?”

  “I’m a five-three mutt with twelve years of bootcamp and a few dozen kills under my belt. He's a giant, purebred monarch who led an apocalypse. I tried to flee. He caught me mid-run.” Keshiema paced around the clearing flailing her arms around as she yelled, unsure why she needed to defend herself. “maybe if I'd had an inkling about what I was I could have prepared a bit better!"

  Fotiá listened patiently to her rant, making sure she was completely finished before speaking. When she looked at him, frustrated, yet still blue, he finally spoke. “First, you shouldn’t knock your height, it’s not that bad." She rolled her eyes. "Second, my power flows through you. Mixed with your demon abilities, nothing should be able to stop you.”

  Keshiema raised an eyebrow. “Your power? You mean the out of nowhere anger that came with fire and sharp teeth? I lose my speed whenever I feel that spark light in my soul. I’ve been doing everything I can to push it down.”

  “You awoke as a Primordial before your Demon blood awakened? "How old are you? You can't be that far decended from me," Fotiá looked her over, trying to figure her out.

  “I turned twenty like a month ago.” Keshiema spoke through clenched teeth.

  “You’re of the ice?” She nodded and he fell silent for minute before suddenly bursting out, “Savarka estillo que wreck Taverra! Ezekiel!” A lavender aura clung to him, filling the air with the scent of woody smoke, the powerful aroma complimenting the fear his overbearing presence demanded.

  Keshiema shrank back, remembering Chu and May's similar violent outburst. It never ended with raised voices. She trembled, trying to remind herself she was no longer in that horrid orphanage, no longer a child under Chu and May's control, no longer weak and helpless.

  “Yes, father?” The agitated gruff voice behind Keshiema startled her. She spun around, coming face-to-face with a man barely taller than Dásos and Fotiá. He sneered at his father, revealing long double-fangs and slightly sharper than normal teeth. His silvery-blue hair matched her shade to a T and his colorful eyes mirrored Fotiá's.

  His bare-feet made no sound on the soft velvety grass as he passed her with barely more than a glance. In that brief moment, his eyes spoke volumes: On the surface he looked disinterested, possibly even bored. Underneath the indifferent fa?ade, however, lay the threat of violence.

  Fotiá held up a hand, “stop.” Keshiema flinched, and Ezekiel paused mid-step, as if his father's words held power over him. “This young woman you so rudely walked past, introduce yourself to her.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Ezekiel looked over his shoulder at her with another blasé glance. “Sorry woman, I don't know what he's up to, but I’m spoken for.”

  “Savarka, Ezekiel! This isn’t a matchmaking! Just talk to the child!”

  “Fine!” Keshiema recoiled, frightened by Ezekiel's temper. “I'm Zeke. And you are?

  Ezekiel tapped his foot impatiently. She had already put the pieces together, but was not ready to say it aloud. Familial bonds only led to heartache. Meanwhile, he scrutinized her intelligence, staring off into the distance as he waited for her to respond.

  "I need to go," she started to turn. A low rumble escaped Fotiá's throat, freezing her in place, "Or not."

  Rolling his eyes, Ezekiel finally turned to look at her. The man's eyes widened as he saw her Mark. "Keshiema?" He whispered."You've grown." He lifted his arms, but quickly dropped them again, clenching his fists. "You were so small before..." His eyes watered. "Has so much time passed?"

  "Before?" Fotiá asked the question in Keshiema's eyes. "You've already met?"

  "She was," he started to answer Fotiá, but changed his mind and spoke directly to her instead. "You were still a young child, four or five. Néro had told me of your existence. He helped me to see you through one of his gateways. You were playing in a creek with two other children." His lips trembled slightly. "He said I could go to you, but you looked so happy with them. What kind of man would I be if I tore a child away from the only family she'd ever known? I never had another opportunity to see you after that."

  She understood. But part of her wondered what her life would have been like of he had accepted Néro's offer. Would her human family have lived? Could she have gone with Ezekiel to live with Snow Lily as a real family? She wiped away a tear, trying to keep herself composed.

  “Sorry," Ezekiel choked. "I'm sorry if that was too much.” Keshiema stared at the young-looking man in front of her, trying to come up with anything to say. "But, how are you here?"

  Fotiá cleared his throat to grab their attention. He stared into Ezekiel’s eyes with burning ire. "Keshiema has been captured by Adramelech, her spirit came here, likely seeking a way to gain more power and survive the fight. Her demon bloodline still sleeps, but her primordial powers are active. She summoned me through the stela, so there's no doubt about that. We need to find a way to awaken her demon blood so she can safely return to Vitera.”

  She chewed her cheek, worried she might say the wrong thing. The whole situation overwhelmed her. “I can’t awaken,” she said slowly. Both men stared at her, waiting for an explanation. “Not until I regain the memories stolen from me.”

  “No demon is that powerful.” Ezekiel looked from Keshiema to Fotiá. “Right?”

  “It wasn’t a demon, per se.” Keshiema paused, biting her lip, and praying she could find the right words. "More like a Demi-God."

  Both Ezekiel and Fotiá radiated with anger. The scents of lilacs and embers filled the clearing. His colors ripples as Fotiá slid his hand through his hair, looking at his son as he spoke, “I told you not to trust that wretched creature and you still left him as Snow Lily's guard?”

  The effort Ezekiel put into keeping his temper was palpable. “I’ve been gone for two centuries.” Massaging the bridge of his nose, Ezekiel took a deep breath before continuing. “And Ipos was like a son to Snow Lily, it’s not like a could keep them apart.”

  “Please, let me explain!” The fire crawled under Keshiema’s skin, threatening to overwhelm her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” She put up her hands, hoping to protect herself from the furious Primordials in front of her. “But Damien,” she paused. Fotiá's eyes became visibly brighter at Ipos's preferred name and Ezekiel's burned a fiery red.

  Pushing back her swelling fear, she continued. “He saved me. As a child, a demon tried to capture me. It killed my whole family, but he was able to protect me. I can’t remember much from that night. But what I understand is he changed my memories so he could hide me. Let the demon think it killed me too.” She chose to leave out the part about him invading her dreams.

  Suspicious, Fotiá stared into her eyes. “If he was so bent on hiding you, keeping you safe,” she could almost see flames behind the dancing colors of his irises. “Why is his scent clinging to you so closely?”

  “He's my friend.” Silver took her over. “Please don't hurt him.”

  Behind the fear, something else sparkled in Keshiema's eyes. Ezekiel and Fotiá both recognized it all too well. From the second she spoke the demigod’s name, a melancholic melancholy loomed over her. “You’re friend? Is that all? Because I’ll tell you now, the gods are not compatible with our kind. You will see nothing but heartache if you pursue anything more than friendship with that creature." Ezekiel ranted. "Besides, you can freely choose from demons or humans, I'd rather not see you banished to Ethera like we were."

  Her father’s words had Keshiema’s mind reeling. “Father,” After a moment of surprise, Ezekiel’s face softened."I care for Damien, in way I can't quite explain. I can't remember the time we've shared together, but I feel like its a significant amount. I don't know if I love for him, but I can post say for certain I don't think I'm in love with him. He has protected me, but I'm sure he's also lied to me, and the powers he possesses are frightening.

  “Kesh, I-" Ezekiel tried to comfort his daughter, but she cut him off.

  “Besides,” Keshiema clutched her chest, trying to hold onto a sudden flutter of emotion. “I do believe I might me falling for someone else." She smiled at the thought of Dásos. His warm protective nature, the scent of oak trees and moss, his soft smile whenever he looked at her. The way he let her make her own choices, even when he disagreed.

  A strong, cold wind blew through the clearing. Putting his hand on Ezekiel's shoulder, Fotiá spoke sternly, “Keshiema needs to get out of Ethera before she can't.”

  With Ipos at the forefront of her thoughts, Keshiema realized where she was. “Wait, we're in Ethera.” Ezekiel and Fotiá gave her questioning looks. “I can’t leave. Damien and Ayperos are here. I need to save them.” Knowing neither of them agreed she added a solemn reminder. “If I wake up now, I’m dead anyway.”

  Frowning, Ezekiel mulled over her words. “We can’t argue with logic.” he finally conceded.

  Fotiá nodded in agreement, “The quickest way to find someone in Ethera is with the help of its protector.”

  Following what she already knew about protectors, Keshiema grew worried. “Another Primordial?”

  “What do you know of Primordials, exactly?” A raised brow and crossed arms added to Fotiá's suspicious tone.

  Noting the Ancient's qualms, Keshiema took a step back before answering his question. “Not much more than what I've gathered from ancient books.”

  "But you do know more?" He pressed.

  She took another step back as Fotiá stepped toward her. “And what I've been told by Dásos,” Fotiá and Ezekiel both turned away in anger. “Why does everyone hate him so much?”

  While Fotiá paced in frustration Ezekiel tried explaining their anger. “The man's a snake, Keshiema. He’s the whole reason we’re here in Ethera.”

  "Seemed to me like he was helping you!" She pointed at Fotiá. "I'd be blaming Eden's God before anyone else!"

  The growl that escaped from Fotiá made Keshiema jump. “Let's go!” He sounded like a cranky child more than an ancient deity. “We don’t have time for this conversation.”

  With a heavy sigh, Keshiema reluctantly dropped the subject. “Fine, where are we going?”

  The cold western breeze filled the clearing once more. Smiling, Fotiá gestured to the western side of clearing. “We go upwind.”

  Savarka estillo que wreck Taverra = Damn it all to fucking Hell