A Meet of Tribes (A Shade of Vampire #45)(29)

Almus nodded. “They were betrayed.”

Before I could hear more, darkness poured over my eyes once more.

Typical.

When I wanted it to end it sure didn’t rush me out of there, but when I wanted to stay, it immediately pulled me out. I’d have to work harder to try to control these visions.



The image came into focus again, painted in vibrant strokes of crude green and electric pinks and oranges beneath a deep blue sky. Long strings of pale orange sky ran across, from east to west, as the giant sun slowly began its descent.

I stood on top of a mountain. It was so tall that I could see the rest of the world curve gently at the horizon. The view was breathtaking, and I soaked it all in slowly—a stunning display of lush jungles with young trees that barely rose from the tall grass and sharp hills that had yet to be eroded by the passage of time. Volcanoes spurted bright orange lava in the distance, and rivers flowed wildly across the land.

A peculiar crackle prompted me to turn around. I realized then that I was on the very peak of the mountain. My feet were inches from the edge. Below me, a deep crevice split the mountain in half. Two sharp tips of white marble rose around a pool of hot water. The water climbed as high as the walls allowed before spilling outward from the low side of the crevice and cascading down the mountain.

The water was a dark pink. Its luscious surface reminded me of the new Daughter’s hair. It held the same fascinating hues of red and fuchsia, like paint had been poured in it and swirled around.

I heard the crackle again, but it took me a while to identify its source. The pink water was bubbling up on the surface with white foamy rings expanding one after another, traveling with the ripples.

The wind blew strong at that altitude. I could tell from the way the handful of purple shrubs nearby bent with it. It whistled and swished between the white marble peaks, creating a pleasant acoustic effect in combination with the sound of water dropping for thousands of yards along the mountain.

I bent over slowly to get a better view of the pink water. I could see my reflection in it, barely a stick figure at that height. The water trembled, and a white egg emerged from below. I stilled, realizing that it looked eerily familiar. It was a large shell with a pearly white glaze and thin red veins spread out on its surface.

It floated around for a while until the bubbles gently pushed it toward a flat sliver of white marble onto which the egg rolled quietly. The pink water lapped at the narrow shore. I got down on my knees, not sure whether I could do anything else from that angle. I had yet to explore the physics of my visions, but given all the rugged ridges of marble that waited below, I didn’t want to risk it.

The last rays of sunshine passed over the egg, throwing shades of amber and rose against its shimmering shell. I stayed there for a while, wondering what else I would see. I didn’t want to draw any conclusion just yet, not based solely on the resemblance of that egg.

Before I could formulate another thought, the shell cracked, and I held my breath. After a few more pushes, it hatched, and out of it came a marvelous creature—one I knew in my heart was exactly who I had suspected. It was a Daughter of Eritopia, so young and pure, with pale skin and reddish pink hair and the same electric violet eyes that I’d become so fond of back at the mansion.

She looked around with a dazed look on her face. Her attention was then drawn to the pink water, which pushed out a few more eggs. It dawned on me that I was watching the birth of the Daughters of Eritopia at the beginning of time.

One by one, they hatched from their eggs. Seven of them, similar in appearance, clearly sisters. Their hair flowed straight down their backs in shades of fiery red and pink. Their eyes burned bright like violet flames. Their lips were soft and full, drawn in beautiful cupid’s bows. Their skin was opalescent, delicate veins slightly visible underneath.

They looked at each other, gently brushing their fingers through each other’s hair with genuine fascination. They were discovering themselves as sisters. The Daughters then looked around, taking it all in. From where they stood, they could see the white marble walls of the crevice that held them, the pink water at their feet, the darkening sky above, and perhaps glimpses of the crude world where the peak split in two.

They listened to the sound of the water like I did and then nodded to one another, as if they understood something that I didn’t. The Daughters walked up to the marble wall behind them and placed their ears against it, closing their eyes and taking deep breaths.

I then realized what this entire vision was about. I was standing on Mount Agrith. No one had left the Daughters’ eggs on top of it; Eritopia had created them. They were born with a clear understanding of the world that surrounded them. As they listened to the water and the natural elements, they were able to understand Eritopia itself.

These weren’t goddesses as we’d suspected. They were not creators. They were so deeply tied to Eritopia that the world itself resonated through their bodies and their powers. It must have been the source of their incredible abilities. They walked around that shore for a while, listening to every sound and nodding their approval, as if Eritopia was talking to them.

It made me wonder: what if they could actually communicate with it? What if Eritopia spoke to the Daughters?





Aida





I opened my eyes to find the familiar dirty plaster of the basement ceiling above peeling here and there from the humidity. I sat up with a jolt, my mind flooded with memories of my visions. I had so much to tell the Druid!