Forsaken Ch. 04

***

Raven led her and the child, under the transcending elements of dusk and dawn. Tara watched as the child stood, gaze fixed upon the falling heavens, trembling lips formed silent words rising to a whispering chant in ancient tongues forgotten by the earthly inhabitants. The sky rolled as rifts gapped casting chimneys of light and columns of darkness. Evil stirred restless under the chaos, anarchy sprouted disorder among masses, and dark abominations poured cruel malice from the chalice of ritual. Yet among the world Raven alone stood unmoved, as those faint words in this child's frail voice moved among the air echoing across the fabric of creation. Tara collapsed to her knees, stared in disbelief when the heavens opened upon this divine child, awash in fire and searing light. She and Raven watched as her tiny figure consumed by the flames, yet her chant never faltered and dark smoke rose. Tara cried out for her. A chant became a prayer, a whisper, fragile became a voice strong and the charred burning form grew within the flames. The gates of heaven crashed; the gates of hell crumbled, and sprits flooded upon the burning world. Angels and devils swept across the lands waging this ancient battle upon the hearts and souls of mortals; bound.

Darkness and shadow moved as a living thing, writhing across the lands to condense upon the old heart of this ancient structure of civilization. So powerful the cloak of tangible despair; blocking out the dim rays of hope and muting the chanters' prayer of the innocent calling, casting unnatural rifts among this void in creation. The rays of dawn lost in those deep folds. Reality became myth as nightmares took hold choking the sane conscience, buckling the fragments yet remaining in this construct of collective awareness. Great bolts seared the shroud of darkening doom, a force that wailed in defiant agatation awakening the dormant monster within. Fire and ash rained from on high as the ground quaked violently, erupting chaos, sorrowful in mourning vengeance. The earth in creation cried out against this terrible blow, a desperate and pitiful sound stretched across emptiness.

***

Adrian turned to stare at BB, his expression blank and unnerving as he took her hand. "You so wish to sample the burdens I bear for you, then come and look," he spoke with harsh tones emphasizing his impatience, and spun dragging her up the back staircase. He took the steps two at a time almost dragging her tiny frame behind him. At the landing he knelt to gaze upon her vexed and fretting. He saw for the first time what he considered a true response, her sarcasms and light childish eyes replaced with the true depth of her experience. He looked into the soul of a true immortal, whose wisdom spanned countless ages, and saw the infinite depth of her ageless torment. He lost the words as only a whimper escaped his parched lips and he led her up to the north tower. From there they stared to the east, together they witnessed the darkness and flames converge upon the towers of glass and steel. The dawn unseen and unfelt in the cold shadows, she stared on with frightened excitement. Dakota and Mick emerged roused by Adrian's tempered display; they were unprepared for what they beheld. People gathered in the streets, some only half dressed, but all held captive by the events transpiring. Enforcers moved among the masses, fighting to gain control in attempt to herd the crowds, they succeeded only in stirring violence. Dakota watched as riots erupted, the crowds divided, the enforcers banded together now for protection against the horde. He could see vampires feeding openly among the stragglers, and watched as the crowds clashed in violent oppositions. Thick smoke choked the now still air, and battle cries pierced the mounting tension.

***

Raven watched unflinching, seemingly unaffected by the chaos of Hell spewing, vomited upon the world. His manner distant, as if he watched, shocked in morbid awe, and suspended between the heavens. Minds Eye Theater: standing upon the tide of Armageddon he was suffering this purgatory of pestilence.

With a wave of his hand the flames extinguished and that charred husk was released, "She was riding your thoughts as you entered the change, now she has Fallen," his tones and manner hinted empathy as he tenderly cradled the brittle remains.

Blood tears stained the face and hands of her dedicated protector. She stood on weak knees; staggered to Raven and gazing mournfully through the haze muttering something he could not understand. She wiped her eyes and gingerly moved the shroud to look upon the face of her defeat, but found the blackened ash peeling and cracked revealing flesh. With a mothers care she cleared away the charred layer of ash exposing white flesh beneath, a beautiful young woman emerged. Joy threatened to explode her with this miracle.

"She has survived?" Tara asked, her voice broken under the strain of these emotions.

"She has Fallen, but was spared," his words ringed by some hidden pain or fear. He looked up meeting Tara's gaze, his voice now seemed frail and his eyes distant and hallow, "We must get to sanctuary, she needs rest and the sun will break through soon. While you rest I will gather her some food and clothes, come we must be swift for our enemies grow desperate with impatience."

"Then let's go back to where we first met, it's not far and I have some equipment hidden there. Besides going back there our chances of being discovered narrows, they already looked," she pulled at him to emphasize her point and the urgency of their situation.

They had scarcely entered the structure when rays of sunlight pierced the smoke and clouds; Raven sidestepped moving between Tara and the door so his shadow would protect her from the fatal day. They moved down to the boiler that now appeared ransacked. The great iron door lay battered across the room; torn from its rusted hinges a sure sign raged stalkers. Tara gathered what she could to make a pallet inside the boiler where she and the child could rest.

"Tell me where your things are hidden and I shall retrieve them during my venture," he said when handing the child to her.

Tara shook her head, "I'll handle that later, and my bags are rigged. You need not worry ‘bout that, but the child, what she needs. We will be safe until your return; they can not hunt us during the day."

He bowed at her request and hefted the great iron grate sealing the entrance. Then reached into his pocket and found the card Dakota had lent to him. If he could still return he felt this task would be swift and so he set out. Once outside under the patching day fear struck a nerve somewhere deep within his scattered thoughts, with the rays of day randomly piercing the heavy smoke and clouds these demons would not pause in their search. He moved quickly, desperate to return before his fear grew to reality, but when he emerged finding the streets crowded with warring mobs his heart sank.

***

"Someone's at the door!" she gleefully chirped ducking the dodge of Dakota. She danced down the stairs singing to herself, well ahead of those following. She could hear the faint chime hidden under the sea of noise, and counted the delay. Not wanting to be rude, BB used celerity of thought reaching the door on the third chime. Her nimble fingers quickly worked a series of locks and the door swung open as Dakota emerged from the den.

Standing just within the entry, battered and bleeding was a face she had not seen in generations. Shadows of memories past, fantastic dreams faded almost forgotten rising upon the smoldering wings of a crumbling reality now emerged remembering. BB fainted, her limp frame captured gracefully in Dakota's arms. A look of bewilderment crossed his weary features for the briefest instant before his gaze moved inspecting this guest unannounced. Dakota stumbled catching himself before the fall, shocked beyond comprehension, his mighty frame quivered. Mick bolted through the archway to see Dakota down on one knee, BB limp in his arms, and a dark silhouette blocking the door. He called out to Dakota, while discretely reaching for the blade tucked under his jacket.

"Speak friend or foe," he demanded stepping into the shadows. His blade was drawn and now carefully concealed. The wolf awakened inside him, lending him its strength. His body began the change, as wolf and man merged into one perfect being. With his enhanced abilities the silhouette came into focus. A woman stood, beaten yet smiling, she processed a power unlike any he had ever before witnessed. Then she spoke.

"Man-wolf," she said. "You have great courage to draw arms against me, but I am not here to quarrel," her voice was calm and almost sweet in alluring temptation. "I have dire news concerning us all. Now invite me in out of the weather." Her posture remained calm, her tone tranquil, but authority radiated. She would not be intimidated, nor would she compromise.

***

Raven gazed upon the horrors of anarchy. The riots and fires blazed unchecked gaining intensity as the masses warred with authority and then turned their accumulated rage against one another. He watched as Enforcers fell, vampires fed openly among the masses. Demons that which have no names arose from the shadows dragging their victims screaming into the depths of the unknown. From this vantage, Raven could see the darkness growing toward the heart of this city. The lights flickered everywhere; some were broken out entirely but there, among the high rises darkness was a physical form consuming the light, and the skies. Raven stepped back from the scenes of violence awestruck by the chaos, when something captured his attention. Across the street, a figure stood solemnly against the sea of motion. A figure untouched and unnoticed stood unflinching; it stared at him coldly from behind the masses. When their eyes met, Raven felt icy fingers playing at his spine. It knew what he was, and that chilled him to the core. A voice whispered upon his mind, challenging him, mocking him and then the creature was gone. It would certainly inform others of his whereabouts, he had no choice. Raven submitted to the monster within himself, aware of its murderous motives. He could feel his flesh begin o tear, muscles ripped and bones shattered, as the man became the beast. His vision blurred, and nerves blazed as muscles knitted and bones reshaped. Raven could almost watch this horrid transformation as his body crumpled, reformed and emerged a monster of fury. He was aware of his every action but helpless to control the deeds of this raging beast.