Dawn Revealed

Chapter 32

Kokumthena emerged from the darkened woods and approached the pyre. The moon hung full and bright in the sky directly overhead. It was time. Beside her the Prophet stood in his shimmering ethereal form, watching. His expression mixed with grief, the peace of the ages, and morbid curiosity as he witnessed his own funeral. Some souls, she brought back to prove that yes, they were dead and their mortal ties severed. Some just wanted to know who had shown up for the party. The Prophet needed no convincing that his physical shell was dead. He'd been prepared for it. Expected it. And welcomed the end of his long journey. He'd come to see his brother and his family one final time.

The brothers stood in a circle, surrounding the pyre in a stance of readiness and full alert. None of them could see Kokumthena and the Prophet, watching from the border of the woods. Their faces were stony unreadable masks hiding the storms hidden within. As always, they would do their jobs without the slightest show of emotion. It was the way of a warrior, their way, the only way.

The Great Father clutched the torch in his fist. The flames danced, lighting the night with orange flickers of light. He lifted his eyes from the torch to the pyre and the lifeless shell positioned atop the wood. He could do this. He had to do this. Someone had placed a proper funeral shroud over his brother's body. Caring hands had worked the deerskin smooth and supple and had woven the beadwork into intricate designs. It was a worthy shroud for a worthy man. His brother would be proud to know such a fine piece of handiwork had been crafted for him.

He hadn't given much thought to his brother's death song. The wolf's scent had led him deep into the woods. To the quiet places man's eyes rarely saw. And there, alone, he'd mourned. His brother deserved a death song as intricate and beautiful as the shroud. There were no words that could do the man justice. To summarize everything his brother was in a song, just wasn't possible. The Great Father's voice failed him. His grip on the torch wavered. Lighting the pyre was his duty and his way of honoring his brother. He couldn't force his feet to move. He couldn't light the pyre and burn his brother's lifeless body to ash. Ends were beginnings and beginnings an ending to something else. He wasn't ready to face what might come next, knowing he'd have to face it alone.

Angel hovered at the edge of the circle of brothers. Watching the emotions play over the Great Father's face. A lone tear gathered at the corner of his eye and caught the glowing orange of the flames from his torch. He stood silently, a mountain of strength, flesh and bone. The brothers didn't see it. But, she did. His hesitation. The flames were hungry, eager to do their job and consume the wood, the body of a man she hadn't really known. She understood. Starting the fire was his duty. But, he didn't need, didn't have to do it alone.

Her whole life she'd been distant and cold. Emotionally cut off from everyone and everything. Seeing him standing there, words poised on his lips that he couldn't speak and muscles coiled to take the steps he couldn't bring himself to take, broke her. Maybe, she was overstepping her bounds. She wasn't 'in the club' so to speak. But, she couldn't bear to do nothing, silently and motionlessly watching a man suffer through his unspoken grief. The Great Father was perhaps, the bravest man she'd ever seen. Always a leader, bearing the burdens placed on his shoulders with dignity and purpose. The brothers waited, their eyes fixed on the pyre. While the man meant to light it drowned in his inner grief.

She wasn't a brave woman. Whatever acts she'd done that might have been considered brave by an observer were simply byproducts of chance more than actual bravery. It was true though. She had stuck her neck out to right a wrong. She had gotten Lori out before Roark killed her. But, it was her fault that Lori had ended up in his clutches in the first place. She had acted like a fool thinking to protect Kayla. Right idea, although the circumstances were very, very wrong.

She'd hung her hat at the compound and done nothing. A war was coming. Everyone knew it. And she hadn't truly chosen a side. Where she'd stand when hell came raining down on them. Change was inevitable. Even now, witnessing death's completion, she could feel it inside of her, waging a private battle. She had to pick a side. Win or lose. She needed to decide.

Angel wiped her palms on her jeans and slipped free of the circle of brothers. She'd never had a family before. Never belonged anywhere. She'd spent her life drifting from one bad thing to the next. Circumstances beyond her control had wronged her. Forced her to make the decisions she'd made. Her feet made soft whispering sounds on the damp grass. Fall was officially here and the night cool and crisp. Filled with the pungent scent of dying things and the promise of the harvest, a time for reaping what was sewn. For once, she was going to do something good, an act of her choosing.

The Great Father didn't even flinch as she approached and wrapped her hand around his clenched fist. Closing her fingers, she met his eyes. Eyes so filled with pain and loss, a tear crept down her cheek. In that moment, a silent understanding passed between them. He was not alone. She was not alone. And together, they'd do what they had to do to move forward out of the darkness and into the light.

Their gazes never separating, they walked forward, approaching the pyre. The Great Father's fingers quivered beneath Angel's grip. Gently, she guided his hand, helping him lower the torch to the kindling. The first step had been taken. Moving their joined hands and the torch clutched in their tangled fingers from one point to the next. The flames spread quickly, lapping at the dry sticks with hungry tongues to engulf the wood. The task done, he nodded and slid his hand from her grasp. Firelight glinted in his tears as he launched the torch at the top of the pyre. His aim true, it landed, igniting his brother's body in a shower of sparks and flame.

With his hands empty and nothing to do but watch his brother's body wither in the heat and flame so eager to destroy, The Great Father buried his face in Angel's upturned palms. Her trembling fingers brushed away his tears. Fluttering over his lashes to gather them before they tumbled down his cheeks in a deluge of grief and loss.

Angel felt the moisture of the Great Father's tears on the pads of her fingers. In the silence and stillness surrounding them the only sound was the crackling tongues of flame lapping at the wood. Understanding poured through her. This great man with his head resting in her palms and the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders was damaged. A part of him would never be the same. And neither would she. Pain molded them, shaped them into who they would become. But, it wouldn't own them. It wouldn't break them. Gently, tracing the pads of her thumbs over his lashes, she coaxed his eyes open and lifted his face from the shelter of her palms.

His eyes never left the flames consuming his brother's body. Tearing from the smoke and the weight of his grief, Angel ignored the stinging beneath her lashes and watched the fire erase the man she'd never met and reform the man none of the brothers, not even those closest to him really knew. Gently, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears and the bitterness of the soot on her lips.

Angel's courage gave the Great Father strength. He righted his bent posture and thrust his shoulders back, lifting his face to bear witness to the fire and to the greatness of the man that was and would always be his brother. The words he failed to find earlier. That he thought he couldn't sing came pouring from his lips. The death song was good...worthy...and he sang of it...of his brother...with pride and honor. The words were exactly the right ones. And he sang them from his heart.

Lance was touched by Angel's bravery. Grateful to her that she'd succeeded in finding a way to reach the Great Father and pull him back from the brink of his grief. She'd inched away from the Great Father, giving him space. Hung back outside of the circle of brothers. She belonged here. No longer an observer, but part of them. He stepped aside, making room for her and held out his hand, to welcome her home.

Angel took a gingerly step forward. Lance waited with his hand outstretched the fingers splayed wide and palm up. Kayla stood to his left and Keene to his right. Through the grief, the thick smoke, and heat from the flames, dancing higher and higher into the starlit sky, smacking at the fat silver moon with orange tendrils of fury, the brothers shuffled to the side to widen the gap in the circle. And in doing so, in making room for her, they'd said, without uttering a whisper, that she'd earned her place among them. Angel slid into place beside Lance, wedged between him and Keene's broad stance. She took Lance's offered hand and laced her fingers through his.

Kokumthena prayed to her father for his mercy on her Sons. The evil had been released upon the earth again. And it had to be stopped. The Windigo were death and destruction. If her Sons failed, if she failed, there wouldn't be enough tears to shed or enough pleas for her father's mercy. Nothing would remain of this world or the next. She stroked the fur of her beloved companion and faithful guardian. The Great White Wolf yipped and wagged his tail with the eagerness of a puppy. Lapping at her fingertips with his long pink tongue, he perked his ears up. Waiting. She commanded spirit and soul. And it was time to gift her warrior as she'd gifted his brother, with an equal measure of both.

The Prophet nodded to his old friend. His destiny was completed. And this was their goodbye. For the wolf, the next part of his journey had yet to begin. Always so pragmatic and doubting of anything he could not explain. His brother would not understand the gift Kokumthena was about to give him. He'd see it as a curse instead of the blessing it was. An unnecessary burden he didn't want or need. But, it was more, so much more. A legacy left to his keeping and a family to bring home.

Kokumthena gathered the winds of the four corners and brought them to heel in the palm of her hand. The pyre burned brightly. She unleashed the swirling winds, sending them across the bluffs. Lifting the smoke and ash in sprays of glowing spark and ember to the heavens. Releasing the Prophet from his mortal ties to the world and into the land of the spirits. She gave her wolf one final pat on the hindquarters as he darted eagerly forward. He raced across the flat ground on the heels of the winds and leapt into his reluctant and unwitting host. She'd taken much from the man. He'd served her faithfully without wavering. And it was time for her to give him something in return. Life.

The Great Father felt the energy of his goddess carried on the winds. In this holy place, if a man stayed still long enough and listened hard enough, he'd hear her voice on the currents of air rustling through the trees, mingling with the tall sun dried grasses, and whistling over the steep cliffs of granite and shale. It was a humbling experience to be in the presence of his goddess, to feel her ethereal hand in the gust of a cool wind caressing his cheek. She was here now, with him, saying her goodbye and offering solace to him. Lifting the ashes of his brother's remains high into the heavens, setting him free.

Power smacked into him unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was so potent, so pure, and so strong. The force of it meshing with him set his blood on fire. Heat. A raging furnace threatening to burn him alive raced through his mind. Searing his very core with white-hot energy and life.

The cold so much a part of him and the beast he'd battled for so long roared inside of him. He could sense his brother's essence in the very heart of all that power. Everything his brother was. His brother's secrets were contained in the energy. Fused into the Great Father's soul, now a part of him. He understood everything while at the same time, knew nothing.

He stared down at his trembling hands. The tendons straining beneath his skin as he clutched his fingers into fists. Somehow, he'd changed in the blink of an eye. He was still the same. The man, he'd always been. But, somehow, the power had changed him. He was different. Dawn broke the horizon in a rush of golden light. And for the first time in two hundred years, instead of wincing from the pain of its brilliance, he lifted his face and met it head on.

The brothers exhaled a collective sigh. Their long night's vigil had drawn to an end with the coming of a new day. The woods were quiet and still. Not a leaf fluttered on the trees nor was there bird song to greet the morning. It was as if nature had hung her head for a moment of silence in remembrance of the great Prophet. Although, not as much as char marred the grassy meadow to mark where the pyre had burned, the Great Father stood, stoic and unmoving. Their view of the world and of him had been forever altered. A rogue could show compassion. The mighty could fall. Nobody cheated death forever. And a leader could be so much more than what he showed on the surface. Tonight, they'd seen a man accept kindness. Cry tears of bitter morning. Grieve his brother. And still remain standing to face the uncertainty of the dawn.

Chapter 33

Angel glanced across the woods at Kayla and met her stare for a brief second before the sunlight streaming through the dense bank of trees forced her into the shelter of the shade. Kayla stood dutifully beside Bryce offering him comfort with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kayla's eyes were sad and mournful. But, for the first time, Kayla looked at peace. Happy. Angel had plans to apologize for making such an ass out of herself. Commitment was her issue, not Kayla's. And she had no right to punish Kayla for trying to find someone special to share her life with. Kayla deserved her support, not her bitter scorn.

There were times when Angel wished she had an open heart. A heart big enough to let her forgive, forget, and move on. Her whole life she'd known nothing but heartbreak and suffering at the hands of others. And she learned to allow people to get only get so close before she pushed them away. The compassion she'd shown the Great Father was a fluke. She just couldn't take seeing him standing there, a part of something as big as the brotherhood, but still so alone. He was almost as cut off from everyone as she. And understood exactly how he felt.

Tomorrow she might not even speak if she saw him. But, run in the other direction, shutting him out like she did everyone else. Kayla, Keene, and maybe Lance, were the closest thing she had to true friends. And even she didn't trust them completely. She kept her distance. It was safer that way. No harm...no foul. For the time being, the brothers had accepted her. Taken her into the fold. But, that could change. Even Roark had welcomed her with a smile and open arms. And that painful lesson was one she'd never forget.

Kayla stared across the clearing at Angel. Angel stood alone, at a distance, with her arms crossed over her chest. She was always so at odds with everything and everyone. What Angel had done tonight for the Great Father was incredible. There was good inside of Angel no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Out of the all the people that could have reached out to the Great Father only Angel had. She'd known what he needed and given it.

Kayla already knew she'd forgive Angel for barging in on her and acting like a total idiot. That's what friends did. They forgave one another no matter how stupid they acted. And Kayla didn't blame Angel. She understood the woman's fear of commitment. If the woman didn't have issues, she'd be paying attention to the big guy shooting stray glances in her direction when she wasn't looking.

Lance would be good for Angel. Kayla could see what her friend was oblivious to. He could help Angel move beyond her past. But, Kayla knew better than to intervene. Nothing ruined a tenuous friendship like a busybody butting in where she didn't belong. Kayla would have to sit this one out. Let time heal. Maybe, when Angel was ready and receptive to the idea, she'd come around without any intervention.

Kayla turned her attention back to Bryce. He was trying so hard to put up a brace face. Emotions leaked through his stoic expression. Through her link with him she also shared a piece of every person on the bluffs. Their sadness and crushing weight of their loss was almost palpable in the air. She felt it too. As if a small piece of her soul had been ripped away. She'd never met the Prophet. But, she sensed he was a great man and his absence would be felt by the brotherhood as long as there was a brother left to remember.

Forever meant something when it came from a vampire's lips. She'd never felt the gravity of it before. Forever was temporary in human terms. It came with a time limit. Decades were but a drop in a ceaseless ocean. She hadn't thought of forever in quite that way before. She'd never measured time as the brothers did before. The sweep hand on the clock was meaningless to them. Ticking away in an inexorable circle round and round, never stopping.

Bryce reached to cup Kayla's chin in his hand. She smiled up at him, a generous smile that didn't reach her blue eyes. Her world was changing. Nothing in it was exactly how she thought it was. Enemies were friends. Hope did exist. And true love was real. A part of her still hid behind a solid wall of never. Terrified. Of him. Of herself. Life was moving so fast for the both of them. Neither one of them had any clue of what was going to happen next or what their part in it would be.

Their love was so new, so fragile, easily shattered. Gently, he brushed a stray tendril of hair back from her cheek with his free hand. Wishing he had something profound to say. He didn't. The brothers were drifting. Battered by the tide. Instinctively he knew they hadn't seen the worst of the storm surge yet. And the only thing any of them could do was to hang on to one another. Change was inevitable. If his immortal life had taught him nothing else, it had taught him that. There were so many things he could promise. But, none of them meant a damn. He'd come full circle. And his life had led him to her. He had only one thing to give. And she had it. His heart was hers. For today. For tomorrow. For forever.

Kayla leaned into Bryce as he curled his arm around her shoulder and guided her through the woods. She smiled at the feel of his lips on the top of her head. It was a gentle kiss filled with warmth and devotion. She still couldn't believe that she deserved it. That for once, her life had led her someplace good and into his arms. That was the funny thing about death. It made you appreciate life just a little bit more than you had before.

The Great Father stayed on the bluffs. Enduring the sunlight long after everyone else had gone. Condolences and mourning weren't their way. Death was supposed to be a celebration of life. Strange, he didn't feel much like a party. Standing here in this place. His body thrumming with power and his feet planted on hallowed ground, he pondered the meaning of it all. Without his brother, he wasn't even sure of who he was anymore. Words defined him. And he would live up to his greater purpose. Life would go on. He would lead his men as he'd always done.

The sun trekked across the sky and dipped lazily behind the tree line, casting long shadows across the soft grass. Still, he stood, staring at the ground. Even though there wasn't a trace of it left, he could see the pyre and smell the wood smoke. His sons would occasionally drift through to check on him. Make sure, he supposed, that by some cruel trick of fate, he hadn't joined his brother in death. Not that the thought wasn't tempting. They left him alone with his thoughts. And as the sun finally set and the sky gave way to the night; he left the bluffs and his grief for his brother behind.