Snippet #1530950

What had they become? Who was she seeing at these tense meetings? The atmosphere would fill up with histories best forgotten. But how did one forget the best times? Times when she could look at him and see happiness. All she could see in him now was darkness and it was beginning to bleed into her soul. They had been like one soul. Friends until the end of time, forever linked by their love. Now the only thing that linked them together was the fate of those who chose him to be her opposite in all things worldly. His greed and envy were swallowing her children whole. She was twisting and falling down a crevice where she could grab no hold.

Until there voices. Their presences filled her up and she squeezed the hand of her loyal friend, Laura. The woman was strong and had been in Nike’s service for a very long time, but the power the Descendants had over her was insurmountable. They tugged at her heartstrings, causing her a peace she could drift away in. They gave her dreams of hope just by standing there in the doorway. Their voices, dripping with concern and confusion, filled her up and she lifted her head, the tears still rolling down her cheeks. Three of them, standing beautifully in the doorway. Standing unsure and still filled with questions. How magnificent. How truly wise they all were, without even knowing it. The dark crevice she’d been tumbling down suddenly produced something to grip onto and she was stopped in the fall. Above her shone the sun and she smiled through her tears.

Yani, in all her thundering waves and roiling seas, knelt before Nike and left her hand to fall upon Nike’s skin. She was so warm and Nike had to return the touch with her own. Her tiny fingers fished over Yani’s cheek and she smiled sadly down at the young Shark. Her eyes, white, unseeing and yet all-seeing, searched out for the others and waved them to come. Laura had already removed herself, smiling quietly. This is what they’d all been waiting for. The rise of the Clans at Mother Nature’s side. Humanity had a chance. The dreams of all Mankind were reachable. Love was still a possibility and happiness was just beyond the horizon.

Yes, she answered the question softly through their minds. She was still weak and so the voice was quiet, barely brushing over their psyches. Machai and Katarina were speaking softly in her room. She would leave them be for now. Machai had more than just the Mother to take care of now. His responsibility had grown with the presence of four very great people. Nike would not have him worrying over her. She had her children with her now and that was comfort enough.

They have made it very clear, to us all, that this battle will continue. The Father’s power-hungry grip is closing in on the world. He will not let it go without force. Her hand was resting gently on Yani’s shoulder and she wished desperately that she could feel the fabric that lay their against her skin.

Something deep, dark, rendering filled her up with a sudden force that it knocked the breath from her lungs. A hurricane of hatred, blood, and one’s worst nightmares filled her up from toe to tip and she was frozen up in her chair. Her eyes remained wide in their sockets, her muscles unmoving and pale. It was almost as if she were suspended in a time where she could relive her worst memories. How many of them she had… Her worst memory… Losing him. Her greatest fear… Losing to him.

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As he was putting the bandages away, the room suddenly became cooler and the wolf felt like he could take deeper breaths. The sweat on his skin began to dry up with the cool breeze and Machai was suddenly reminded of her heritage. She’d become the Descendant of the Dragon Clan. How could he have looked that over? Machai laughed inwardly at himself and shook his head. Of course. She was emotionally distressed and the room grew hot with the sadness and the realization that she’d been kept from a very important bit of information.

He walked back over to Katarina and stood in front of her, unable to make out if that smile was all unreal happiness? Or would the tinge of sadness he saw behind her eyes ever go away? It was obvious she didn’t want to talk anymore of it and so Machai nodded and stepped back from her.

“You are truly the Dragon Clan's heir,” he murmured and then looked over his shoulder. He felt like he should go back and check on his Mother… No; on their Mother. Katarina was okay now and so his duty was completed. Not that he’d felt like it had been a job. Katarina was important and he had to protect them all. If he could comfort them, he would. Something about them, though, begged that they really didn’t need his comfort. At least Katarina accepted his need to try.

“I will return to Nike now.” He announced and bowed at the waist to her. Machai couldn’t help but smile awkwardly at the red head. She was certainly a different kind of person, one he’d never encountered before. He couldn’t help but really like that about her. “If you need anything, just call for me, or I’m sure someone will be around to help. We are not short on help.” With that, he turned and began to head out of her room.

The smell was unforgettable and very, very well known the Wolf Clan Chief. Blood. Inhuman blood. It was faint, which meant it was at a distance, but he could only imagine who it belonged to. His hair bristled and his muscles tensed under his jacket. Deft fingers reached for the bowie at his back and he unsheathed it with dexterity and intent. His boots carried him down a hallway that was familiar to him. Machai knew the place like the back of his hand. Katarina’s room was just behind him on the left; his own room back a bit farther than her own and on the right. He’d grown up in that room. Practiced there, drew there, prayed there, cried there… All his life was in that room, in this building. Owned by a mysterious company that held Nike’s cause in a very high regard and provided them with all hey needed. No one knew their names, affiliations or even if they were humans. Nike knew. That was all they needed.

But something about this hallway irked the Wolf. His nose could smell the blood. It would never go away now that he smelled it. Machai would track it, find it, destroy it. He would protect them all. His calloused fingers tightened around the worn hilt of his father’s knife. The air wasn’t right? No, it was the way the carpet felt under the soles of his boots. Machai looked down and saw normal carpets. Everything was the same, so he continued on walking. Walking until he came to her room. He would walk for all time if he had to, to get to Nike. She was his world, his sun, the force that kept him going.

She seemed so far away, though.

The blood smell was still thick in his nose. Nike was still just out of reach. He was still walking. How long would it take to get to her? Machai didn’t care. He would keep walking until he died or reached her. Something, though, was still very wrong. There was a missing piece. He couldn’t put his finger on it. And where in the hell was the end of this god forsaken hallway?

There was a snap in his mind and he stopped, stuck at the T-shaped intersection of their hallway. Had he just been standing there?

Machai… Nike! He wanted to move to her, but he couldn’t.

Burn it down… Machai smelled the blood still and closed his eyes, hoping to find its origin. ‘Burn it down‘? A seal? What was it? The Father’s doing? He couldn’t find where it was coming from. He growled and opened his eyes, trying to look everywhere.

“Katarina!” He yelled down the hall, trying desperately to moved his feet but feeling nothing budge. The hallucination hadn’t lasted long enough, but there was always a back up plan with these blasted curses. If Katarina was still unfazed by whatever was gripping them, he had to depend on her to help them. But how could she help if he couldn’t find the damned thing! Her power was already apparent to him. Machai just had to get her to concentrate all that heat in one place.

Burn it down. The smell was too thick in his nostrils and he had to shake his head, trying to refocus. The smell was like a little broken thread and he had to follow the pieces of it through the hallways. He could smell the ocean on Yani’s skin and the Bush on Noah’s jacket. Lalita’s distinct perfume was like flowers in spring and Nike’s natural scent like innocence and warm sunlight. Beyond them, though, lay the death. The blood upon the door. The curse upon the house.

Found it, you bastard.