Daughters of Creation

Chapter Eight: Eternitarian

"One who believes in the eternity of the soul"
—Eternitarian

October 14

  She could barely contain her annoyance. The mark on her hand didn't even hurt anymore. She didn't see what the big fuss was—she did, but she was choosing to ignore it. Rosalyn glanced at the source of her main annoyance. Her palm looked ugly, marred by an angry red wilt that had branched out in thin furious veins. Her irritation spiked. Why was there a curse even placed there? It was risky, anyone could have picked up the book before them, could have touched the page, so why risk it? Rosalyn scowled fiercely. Just her luck. Almost killed by a book.

"Is it hurting?" Emrie Michele leaned over her shoulder, taking care not to touch the injury as she rotates her hand.

Rosalyn shook her head. "No, it stopped hurting when I woke up. I'm more irritated than anything else."

"Lys, you were nearly killed by a curse, I think you have a right to be irritated."

"Yeah, but this ... this Ri was like nothing I've ever felt before. I've experienced some major curses before—even burns—but whatever was casted on that page ... it was pure darkness." Her hand flared in pain, as if responding to her words. She shuddered.

Emrie Michele bit her lip beside her. Rosalyn wanted to question her friend's odd behavior—she had noticed since the moment they had parted with Gabriel, whom left in a flurry to gather what he needed to help her—but they were surrounded by divine, and Guards. At her rise in temper her burn spiked along with her. She wanted this thing gone!

"I need a forest or something. Get me out of this damn city and into nature." Rosalyn all but snarled.

Emrie Michele gripped her shoulders, fingers digging into Rosalyn's arms as she gathered a large amount of magic to teleport them. A second too late she felt another pair of hands latch onto her. Her insides felt like they were being ripped from the inside out, unraveling her very being. The sensation ended as quickly as it began. The only thing that remained was the blasted burn. Rosalyn surveyed the area around her, breathing in the magic of nature. Emrie Michele had brought them to the forest just beside their apartment building. She could feel the weak magic coming from the shrine, but she pushed it away, seeking the source that would help her.

Rosalyn spun on her heels the instant her feet touched solid ground. Her fist was raised and sailing through the air before Emrie Michele could ask. Surprise was on her side. She felt her hand connect to something solid, her skin meeting iciness. The source of her attack let out a colorful curse.

"Damn, that hurt." The growl couldn't hide the familiar smooth voice.

"Ezra?" Emrie Michele asked in confusion, hands coming to her waist. "What in the name of the Mother Goddess are you doing?"

Cold grey eyes glared at them as the vampire held his swelling cheek. Rosalyn didn't feel sorry. It'll be healed within the next minute without her having to do anything. "I had noticed a rather large flare of magic and when I went to find out I saw you two. But, before I could ask, I was sucked into your teleportation."

She would have continued to spite him, but her hand had begun to tingle. Rosalyn surveyed the area around their now trio of three. It was more overrun than a clearing, but it would work nonetheless. She tuned out Ezra and settled herself on the forest floor, crossing her legs and pressing her injured hand into the ground. The warm sensation of the natural magic of the plants around her soothed the burning of her hand. Emrie Michele hushed Ezra, placing a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up, Vamp Boy." Rosalyn demanded, her tone biting as she clenched her teeth. She needed to concentrate—and she couldn't do that with Ezra fawning over Emrie Michele.