Exaltation (Insight #11)(4)

Rydell offered no answer. Regret was seizing his soul. He did walk away. He did lead millions away from their sovereign, but he did so selfishly. He did so thinking it would lead to him being slain, freed from the hell he was pulled into. He didn’t expect Revelin to let him roam, or not bat an eye when so many followed.

Rydell knew he could have reached out to the Creator, could have asked him to lead him, to help him understand what the true divine purpose of his kind was, but in all truth, Rydell was angry with his Creator. Angry he’d allowed Revelin to take him in the first place. Angry that this existence was given to him, when in his mindset he did nothing to deserve life at a devil’s side, a life which stated he not only had to defend said devil, but obey.

Anger led Rydell to go it alone, figure out how to rule many souls without guidance. He and his followers still invoked emotions they were only meant to relieve. They still inflicted pain, pain that often, in some way, lead to a slow death. A self-inflicted death, but nevertheless he and his people were the catalyst for the downfall. Rydell knew if he did not act now his existence would be over. Just when I was starting to enjoy the idea of life—death be damned—I will hunt and destroy you before you take me or my people.

He gave the Firebird one last hard glance. For Rydell and others the emotion the car would have given to the soul it was built for would have been food, what they needed to survive. But in all truth it would be a curse to the soul—the car would have destroyed the soul.

It could’ve been as obvious as a wreck, or as twisted as a catalyst that would have lead the man to lose everything of real value in his life. Then death would come. That was the real curse in and of itself. One which Rydell and Dagen were set to break before this new revelation stole their attention.

Now the curse was going to have to wait. Now Rydell had to save his own life, kill or be killed. One singular birth changed the entire course of the Helco faction, indefinitely.

“My death has just taken a breath. It’s time to ensure those breaths are short, and fleeting. ”

“Where?” Dagen asked, ready to fight any enemy that threatened Rydell.

“This dimension.”

Dagen’s gaze turned pensive. They were standing in one of the largest dimensions, which were openly traveled.

Rydell breathed in, smelling the distant river he thought was called Mississippi.

“Down river.”

And with that they both vanished, openly chasing their executioner.





Chapter Two

Jamison wasn’t sure he trusted the nursemaid that Raine had chosen or where she had even came from. He nodded to Saige to watch her as she cleaned up from the birth. Jamison knew, just as any witch did, that there was power in blood. A lot of power.

Raine barely looked weathered by the entire event. She never bothered to look up at him as he approached.

He assumed by now he would have felt a wave of energy come over him—a release of power. But one never came. Instead, he noticed Raine’s ivory skin was beginning to turn ashen.

“Raine,” he grated, not daring to look at the child. He knew the sight of the babe would distract him from his enemy. Clearly his spells were not working—he was in full defense mode.

“She’s beautiful, Jamison. She is clearly created by all that you are. There is bliss in her soul.”

“Raine. Why?” He had asked her the same question a million times. She’d never answered him, not once. He had no idea who this woman was who gave him a child and it infuriated him.

Instead of answering, Raine held her stare on the infant. She never imagined this would be hard. Her plan was simple. She had a dream. She was shown an honorable man. She’d found him, seduced him, made him a father, and she was to leave now. But she didn’t want to. Raine was a warrior at heart, stubborn, and to most, cold and vindictive—all true virtues.

Her mind drifted back to the darkest time in her existence. A time where the wrath seeded into her, twisted into jealousy. She was the second soul her sovereign, Glory, had claimed. Second. Always second.

Raine betrayed Glory, her entire line, and because she did…they lost everything, a story Raine dare not reflect on in her fleeting moments.

The only soul Raine confessed her transgressions to was the Creator, and through a dream he laid upon her the punishment he wished, one which Raine thought was vastly lenient at the time.

Like most near the head of the line, outward emotion is only vaguely felt. She could easily seduce a man, bear a child, and feel no loss. She didn’t even fear her own death. She craved it. She wanted a new beginning. A way out of the fate she had been assigned.

Raine thought the Creator had given her mercy. Yet, right now, holding this child she realized her punishment was deserved. Though she felt no love or compassion for this child or her father, she yearned to see the redemption her soul would bring. She wanted to see approval in her queen’s eyes. She wanted forgiveness from her line. Raine knew that would never come.

She whispered near silent words over the babe. She asked the Creator to honor the child, to ensure her people accepted her. That the child would live with nobility.

“The Creator chose you for a reason,” she whispered to the both of them.

“You’re not taking her from me.”

“No,” she whispered. “You’re her father. Her guardian.” Raine let her hand move across the babe’s head. “She will never desire me, seek me, or grieve for me. For you are the only parent she will ever yearn for. Her soul knows what my purpose was.”