THE KEEPERS ( THE ORBS OF UTAH )

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Out from the thick foliage looking every bit as fearless and stone faced as hardened warriors came the gate keepers. Though they remained expressionless as they looked upon us it did not veil their beauty in the slightest.

Each step they took was powerful and filled with confidence and determination. I sensed their power, their hatred for the creatures who had reigned terror on their beloved Earthelona Eris, their thirst for the blood of their enemies and I sensed their change. Wherever they had been had done them a great service.

They looked like deities of war who were out for blood. It was not that they wore armours that could inspire true fear nor were they imposing in their lithe forms. It was the aura of vengeance and piercing hatred that clung to them like a second skin.

As I studied them I realized they each had a unique weapon crafted to suit their strengths. Without their powers this was the only way they could take part in the war. I didn't know how experienced they were with their weapons but I hoped they were mighty good with them.

I gritted my teeth to stop the chattering of my teeth as the chilly air nipped at my skin. It was particularly cold this night as though mother nature was warning us that the war was not far. It was coming for us whether we were prepared for it or not.

The good thing was that the gate keepers were not alone. Warriors I've never seen before were shadowing them. They too exuding the confidence of those that had never tasted defeat.

I looked from one face to the next hoping to spot that one person I had yearned to eradicate from existence. But the coward was nowhere near sight. Gracious deities, his cowardice knew no bounds.

Deities be damned if he would indulge us just this once with his presence. We were all dying to get a go at him.

Whom in their right mind would choose not to divulge the truth of their origin. I certainly have been forthcoming with whom I was.

But I guess one couldn't outright admit they that had dark blood running through their veins. People would come to wild conclusions especially when overcome by fear. And he would be on the receiving end of every accusation, loathsome treatment and blame.

He would have been named a conspirator from the get go and would have probably been stoned to death.

Maybe keeping the secret of whom he truly was hadn't been an awful idea. He could have been protecting himself and I didn't hate him for it. What I did not like was how he toyed with my emotions. How he manipulated me into thinking that he genuinely cared for me. He made me dishonour myself and the Der'amorta name.

The last of the gate keepers and their small army were welcomed by the leader and her people. As for us, the orb keepers, we were still pretty livid that they had been keeping Domathian's true identity a secret.

In their honor a great feast was held to celebrate their safe return. Their return meant they had a plan that would work in our advantage. At least I hoped they did.

As glad as I was that they were back I couldn't help thinking about the demon who'd so easily stolen my virtue. Although it wasn't stolen if I had been willing at the time, but still I felt cheated.

Way wasn't he showing his damn face. That sculpted gorgeous face I wanted so badly to pummel into a bloody unrecognisable pulp. Deities above and beyond, he was testing my patience. Truly, it had to be that.

I bristled at my thoughts as I played with my food. My appetite was gone no thanks to that bastard.

I felt a nudge on my left shoulder causing me to shift my stare at the person. It was Athela, of course, and she was staring at me in concern, silently asking if I was alright.