Chapter 10

Powerless

Boeithia got out of one of the Dalmora private planes and had taken a deep breath only to nearly retch when she did. ‘What is that god awful smell?’

She was not the most powerful of awakened, nor the most talented but she was still awakened. Being awakened came with a lot of benefits. One of which did not work in her favour as she got out of the plane. A negative aspect of an enhanced sense of smell had never gotten to her until then and the one time she had to use public transport.

She got gooseflesh just thinking of the drunk man that came onto her. Her mind magic not working nearly as well as she was used to on the alcoholic.

She admonished herself in her mind and forced the smell to the back of her mind. She had landed on a small airport set in a mountainous area. The government of the “normal” world she was on had classified the country she was in as a third world country. That being the case, the bad smell would probably be the least of her worries.

She was here for the family and for the family she would do anything, or so she told herself over and over again.

Iziopan was barely a speck when viewed from the world map. Set between two warring countries the place was as unsafe as can be and was often embroiled in the war of the other two. Being so small it barely had any military; however the people were hardy folk and survived by living in areas that would hold no benefit to the other two. Places where posting soldiers would serve no purpose; mountains, out of the way forests and little seaside villages that consisted of little more that shacks and little boats used for fishing.

It had not always been that way; Iziopan was once a thriving country with deep traditions and vibrant culture. It was home to the Izio religion that had over a hundred deities and the people were known for their festivals that ranged from celebrating life to honouring the dead. Festivals filled with vibrant colours, dancing people and all manner of strange and exotic foods.

Theses festivals were hardly seen since the war broke out. The larger cities were nothing but abandoned buildings and roads that had not been maintained.

Boeithia knew she was taking a huge risk in coming to the country, but it was their last hope to get a stronger foothold for the Dalmora branch on this world as well as the first where Elise and the new generation would be starting. If Elise was able to grow stronger they would get more prestige, which meant they would get more resources from the Secret Worlds to develop future generations of their branch. A good example being Klaus’ awakening, compared to the main branch families on the normal world he was on; his awakening was ridiculously lavish, despite the problems that came with it any of the families would give everything they owned for the same chance.

The airport was nothing special. There was no one to receive her once she was out. No car or bus that would transport her to the main building to go through customs. In fact there was no customs office so the rumours that large amounts of poppy were smuggled through the country seemed more likely than not.

An old rust bucket finally shot out from behind a nearby dilapidated hanger. Kicking up dust as it came towards them and her security detail took up a defensive position however there was nothing to serve as cover so she felt like a sitting duck.

Her butler took out a gun and took up a position right in front of her. Having the man with her settled her heart a little- only a little.

The vehicle came to a bouncing screeching halt and man with dark skin, dressed in khakis climbed out.

His eyes roamed over them and finally came to a halt on Boeithia. “You are the lady form the Dalmora clan, yes?”

Boeithia stepped past the butler and gave something similar to a curtsey. “I am Lady Boeithia Dalmora and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. May I ask who you are?”

While doing her introduction she had taken in the measure of the man. He stood relaxed while facing her security detail; his hand rested on the hilt of a scimitar hanging on his hip and a handgun hung from a shoulder holster.

Just as she watched him, he watched her and smiled. Not an obvious smile, but it did let her know that he did not think they were a threat.

After trying to probe his mind she understood why. The man was an awakened and judging by how easily he blocked her, a rather strong one.

“I am Sandur Buthelo and I bid you welcome to this place.” As he spoke with a slight accent, he looked around with undisguised disgust. “The Guru sent me to welcome and bring you to the temple; we have been expecting you for some time.”

Boeithia frowned at this. No one had known she was coming except for Morgose. As far as she knew Guru meant some sort of holy man like a priest.

He must have seen the frown because he lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t be alarmed my Lady. It is nothing nefarious we mean you no harm at this moment. The Jambavana have been grateful to the other established families for not interfering with us.”

Boeithia let herself relax and gestured to her men to lower their weapons. Sandur smiled broadly at this and started making his way to them. When he nearly reached her side the butler took up a position behind the man, eyeing him warily.

“Unfortunately this country is in a bad state and this vehicle is all I can offer.” He said gesturing at the hunk of scrap behind him.

Boeithia waved it away and gesture to her men. Two broke off and headed towards the back of the plane which started to open. “We brought our own transport so there is no need to fret.”

Sandur looked at the actions of her men curiously while walking closer to Boeithia. When he stood next to her she realized just how tall and muscular the man was. He caught her looking and smiled. “Judging by yourself it seems that the rumours of the beauty Dalmora women have is not exaggerated.”

Boeithia snorted, but still felt a little pleased inside.

A few minutes later three vehicles stood next to the plane. They were all armoured, fuelled and ready to go. Sandur had spent most of the few minutes observing the plane and the vehicles like a country bumpkin, which Boeithia thought he kind of was.

When everything was ready Boeithia walked towards the armoured vehicle in the middle of the convoy and got a surprise when Sandur jumped in right after her.

Seeing her face, he looked embarrassed. “Sorry, the vehicle I brought is not the best. These ones are good, yes. We go faster.” He smiled broadly once again.

During the time spent to get the vehicles ready, Boeithia had tried to intrude into his mind with no success and if the man knew she was trying he showed no reaction. It made her suspicious and frustrated to say the least. She sensed that he had great physical power, but little else.

Still, there were other ways to defend against intrusion of the mind and she was not the most powerful of the Dalmora. The man had also managed to consciously or unconsciously wiggle his way close to her without her being able to say a thing about it without being rude. She was there for their support and she felt that forcing him to drive in the broken down truck he had come with would be a determent to her goal.

They set off in the convoy. Not knowing where to go was not a problem as there was only one road leading in one direction from the airport. It was when they made the bend leading away from the airport that the source of the smell became obvious. Dead bodies were strewn next to the road. Men and women in what looked like military clothes could be seen piled up into a ditch. ‘There must be a thousand if not more.’ Boeithia thought in shock.

Sandur, saw her face and commented. “They were the owners of the airport. They did not listen when I asked nicely for them to give it to the Jambavara so I had to ask… less nicely.” While the man spoke he still had the same broad smile on his face.

Boeithia felt like someone walked over her grave at that moment and only then did she realize that with the man’s proximity she was nothing more than a hostage.

As if the realization was some kind of signal for Sandur to show his true face. The smile faded and two trucks rushed out of the side of the forest to drive in front of her convoy. She looked behind her and found two more which had appeared behind them. All of them had large calibre mounted guns and the two closest were pointed towards them.

“What is the meaning of this?” She asked with a shaky voice.

Sandur shrugged and seeing Boeithia signal her people not to fire relaxed into the seat. “Our temple was destroyed and we were forced out of our previous world. We fought, we killed, we died and finally lost the war. We have brought our people here to start anew. We have never contacted the other families and stayed small, never interfering with the normal people of this world as a way to show we mean no harm.” His eyes turned hard when he looked at her again. “That does not mean that we will allow you to do as you wish here. What is your purpose, why have you come when you sent no word nor received invite from us?”

Boethia frowned at the man. She feared for her life, but she was a Dalmora and would not be spoken down to. “I am offended that you assume me to be here to take away from you when you live in this… hovel. I came here not to fight, but to discuss an alliance.”

The man laughed. “We have had alliance before. When we asked for help they did not and instead stole from us. For us, alliance means same as enemy.”

To Boeithia it seemed that the man’s English became worse the more upset he got. “Did your previous alliance come with a marriage proposal?”

At this the man truly seemed surprised, but still wary.

There was a long silence as they followed along a dirt road. The forestry became sparse and the convoy started to climb a mountain. The man finally spoke when a strange building came into view. “If what you say is true, I may not have to kill you today.”

Boethia took a deep breath and balled her fists. She had been pampered for the most part. She had never felt the need to venture far into the Secret Worlds. All the expectation was placed on Lilith and so she never felt the need to put herself in harm’s way. Her family name always served to keep her safe and her ability to read the thoughts of others made her feel like a god amongst the normal people.

This all served to feed a feeling that was alien to her. For the first time she felt completely powerless.

Klaus remembered the burning pain in his lungs before everything went black and he found himself looking out of the eyes of a little girl. She was running through woods; Branches and bushes scratching and clawing at her. They left welts, bloody scratches along her arms and body. The white shift she had on staining with blood at what she now thought of as grotesque fingers spawning out of the darkness to hold her back.

She wanted to look back, wanted to look back and see what remained of her home after Tiamat’s army came to destroy it and her father. The man was cruel and evil yes, but there were times when his sanity would return and those were the best of times. They were moments that almost made the bad times worth it.

When the good moments came her father would pretend as if nothing happened and spoil her rotten. He would treat her and give whatever she wanted as if to make up for the bad, but the good moments had happened less. Her father killed her mother but a few months ago. He thought she didn’t know, but she had seen him snap her neck like a twig during a bad moment and ever since then the good moments never came again.

Still, he was her father. The only family she had left and then he was gone too. So she ran, ran as the soldiers called out for her. Ran as the forest clawed and grabbed at her small limbs, she never wanted to look back. If she did it would cement the truth of her world- that she was all alone.

The girl tripped and let out grunt of pain, the air in her lungs rushed out when she hit the ground hard. She wanted to cry, but doing so would let the bad people know where she was. So she kept quiet and struggled to her feet only to see the most beautiful women in the world standing near her.

Her mother was beautiful, sharing a bloodline with one of the seven guardian snakes of Baraldur made that a certainty, but this woman seemed to make her mother look ordinary in comparison.

For a moment they just looked at each other. The woman was dressed like a fairy in flowing robes of silver and purple. Her skin seemed to glow in the moon and firelight cast by her burning home. Dark purple eyes reflected the girl with the burning house behind her.

The woman moved and time seemed to come to a halt as she did. To the girl it felt as if the world was holding its breath at her mere gesture. With an out stretched hand the woman spoke. “Come with me child.”

The girl replied, but it felt as if it was not her talking. She was a puppet whose strings had been cut and now something else was in control from afar. Her body moved and spoke on its own. “Where are we going?” The girl asked in a daze.

“To a safe place where you won’t have to worry about being hurt, burning houses or bad men.”

For the first time, the girl turned around to look at what was her home the sorrow washing away the disassociation between her mind and body. A tear ran down her cheek and she turned back to the woman with wariness showing on her face. She had been on the run with her mother and father for a long time. From an evil lady called Tiamat “That sounds wonderful, but mommy said never to talk to strangers.”

The woman smiled and quickly replied. “I am no stranger; do you not recognize your own grandmother?”

The joy and wonder faded from the girl’s heart and it was quickly replaced by anger and fear. “You are Tiamat?” Her tone almost sounded like the very name was an insult. Her parents had warned her over and over again about the lady with that name and how she was a grandmother. To the girl, a grandmother was a scary thing that hid in the shadows waiting to get her.

Tiamat frowned, her dragon-self felt rather offended at the tone in which the little girl had used her name, but she was family and she already had to kill one of her children that day… again.

Pain lanced through Klaus’ chest and for a moment he was back in the chamber. He looked to the ground and discovered he was coughing blood. ‘I don’t have a lot of time!’

He struggled back into the same mind set, having experienced it three times already he knew what to look for- what it should feel like. So he searched and tried to dive back in and failed miserably. His vision started to blur and the little dragon coughed even more blood soaking the sand underneath it.

Instincts took over and it crawled towards the door. He wanted to get away from the room filled with poison. A claw reached out and weakly shoved against the thick steel. It wanted out, it wanted freedom. It shoved again and with a clang the door fell over.

Still the dragon felt weak and it knew it was in trouble. Fresh air gushed into its nose, but the lack of ether in the air was not lost on it. It was not enough to use and heal itself so it used its own, cannibalizing its own ether that made up the little dragon’s very being.

Lilith watched in shock and horror when the dragon broke out of the vault again only this time there was something very wrong with it. She wanted to sprint to Klaus’ side but Pain stopped her. “The air is poisonous and you will die if you go out there.” He was planning on berating her more, but what happened next surprised him. The dragon on the monitor started to shrink and grow smaller. The horns and spines dropped from its body and slowly turned into a swirling green and purple mist. Next came the scales and teeth until finally the figure was too small to be seen in the mist.

Unbeknownst to them another stigmata appeared on the back of Klaus’ neck, but it did not appear like the others. There was no golden light or mystical reactions- Instead a bloody mark was carved into his flesh in the shape of a opened maw with jagged teeth.

At the same time a dragon appeared coiled around the tree on Klaus’ chest, both were small and it was clear that there was room for growth.

His left arm seemed to glow with purple light and a lifelike tattoo of dark violet flames sprouted from his knuckles and ran all the way up to his elbow before petering out.

On the monitor everything became quiet and there was no movement at all.

Pain was the first to move. Lilith jumped up as well, but she was stopped from following.

“The air is still poisoned, wait here.” Said Pain and his tone brokered no objections.

She could only nod acceptance and watch anxiously from the monitor room.

She saw Pain cautiously making his way from the room towards where they last saw Klaus. There was still miasma and the green steam floating around near the ground so it was not easy to see him. She watched as Pain picked him up and started to carry him towards the door.

While Pain was carrying him the stigmata started to fade and then disappeared completely from his skin.

Lilith watched as Pain struggled to carry Klaus. “Why is he struggling?” She had heard the stories and knew demons had great physical strength compared to the average awakened without their magic.

When Pain got closer Silence appeared like a ghost and walked over to help carry Klaus. With a grunt he hooked his arms through Klaus’ armpits and took on the weight.

The two struggled through the small door and Lilith quickly made way for them. With grunts and uncharacteristic curses the two made it some ways down the hallway before turning into a door that Lilith had not noticed earlier.

She followed them in and felt relief when she saw the state of the art hospital equipment that was prepared inside. Pride was there and instantly took over. Setting up a drip that was attached to one of the fruit Lilith and Klaus had eaten earlier.

Silence and Pain heaved intending to place Klaus on the bed, but as soon as Klaus came in contact with the bed the whole thing collapsed with a crash. For a moment the three demons just looked at each other and then shrugged.

Lilith finally found her voice. “What is happening?”

The three ignored her while busying themselves, which only served to make her more worried. They had essentially poisoned him.

Pride expertly put the drip into Klaus’ arm before starting to attach a heart monitor. The silence was broken by the welcomed beep of the machine and Lilith finally let out a breath however there was no beep after the first. One second, two seconds, three, four and just before Lilith wanted to rush over another strong beep sounded.

“Why is his heartbeat so slow?”

She was still ignored.

“Can someone please talk to me!” She shouted in anger, desperation clear in her voice.

Pain finally stopped with whatever he was doing and gave her a disparaging stare. “Are you dumb? His physiology has changed. He is the son of a dragon and Roth mixed together. We ourselves do not know what changes could have occurred. Now be quiet and let us work and find out what has happened.”

Lilith could only nod and stand to the side. Her limited medical knowledge was learned almost a hundred years ago and the three demons seemed to know what they were doing. She felt hopeless just standing there, but found herself unwilling to move.

Lilith took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had been through some very dangerous situations in her lifetime. The expectations placed on Lilith by her branch of the family was great and for a long time she met them, until the betrayal. It was a turning point for her. It stripped away what she thought was most important at the time and forced her to face what she then realised was and empty shell of a person.

The man that betrayed her was her first love and when she lost that… she realized she was nothing but a workhorse that would someday lose her usefulness just like he used and discarded her, she would once again be discarded.

Klaus’ father gave her a purpose. One she hated at the time, feeling that it was beneath her. It caused her to make a mistake that she ranked higher than falling in love with the wrong man. She destroyed something that was innocent and good before it could ever stand a chance to experience life. She took away Klaus’ childhood.

An all too familiar feeling crept up on her. She felt powerless.