Tag: MMFantasyfiction

Tani sat in the library until the sun disappeared from the horizon. The night filled the skies and the house filled with light from the lamps mounted on the walls. The library door opened, and in walked a tall man. Tani looked at him because it was the first motion in the room. The tall man was dressed in a black tailored shirt and dark trousers. His feet were in leather sandals. His red shoulder-length hair was in a short bun. The light from the lamps illuminated his chiseled features, his sharp green eyes reminded him of a fox studied Tani. The tall man narrowed his gaze as he turned on the closest lamp.

“Why sit alone this long?”

“Uncle Amu,” Tani said in greeting not making a move from the armchair. He leaned his head back to stare at the mural on the ceiling.

“How is my mother?” Tani asked after a moment of silence. He knew his uncle had come from visiting the Ekho Realm. Unlike Tani, Amu could come and go as he pleased.

“She is well,” Amu said, not saying more. He sat in the armchair across from Tani and touched the lineage book on the stool where Cale left it. “You’re brooding over the mortal.”

“He’s no longer mortal,” Tani said. “He is a warlock born with fire.”

“Interesting,” Amu said with a sigh. “You are finally gaining some luck.”

Tani sat up then and met his uncle’s vivid green eyes.

“Did you interfere with his lineage?”

“Why bother?” Amu asked. “Tani, do you remember my first reaction to you binding your soul to him?”

Tani smiled and dropped his gaze to his lap.

“You beat me with a broom,” Tani said. “Then threatened to kick me out of your house.”

“I’ve never hidden my feelings on the matter,” Amu said. “I’m relieved your calamity is ending. You can return to the Ekho Realm and live the life you deserve. You’ll forget the mortal soon enough.”

“Uncle,” Tani said, used to this statement from his uncle. “I’ve been sitting here thinking that I don’t want to forget him.”

“Your inability to let him go is always your greatest weakness,” Amu said. “So, what have you decided sitting here in silence?”

“I wanted to give up,” Tani said. “Let it all go after all this time. Walk away.”

“How futile,” Amu said. “Tani, you took the step to fight for him, despite me, your father, and the Septum. Finish it. At least when you face your father at the end of it, you will have no regrets.”

Tani frowned.

“You think I have regrets?”

“Don’t we all?” Amu asked, his right brow rising in question.

Tani scoffed.

“Perhaps,” Tani said. “Okay. I’ll face Dante Arturo, to save him from whatever kills him.”

“It will be to save you too,” Amu said. “You’re lost in a world of wasted hope. I’d love to see you free of it.”

Tani shrugged.

Hope was starting to dwindle away. He did not have the strength to hope with the energy he had used at the start. Now, his hope resembled a very small candle burning in a dark room. A breeze threatening to turn off the light every second.

“One last time,” Amu said, as though reading his thoughts. “Tom has cleaned up your identification. In case your dealings with Dante make him curious.”

“Thank you,” Tani said, rubbing his forehead with his left hand. “Um, Uncle Amu, is it possible for a bloodborne warlock to sense an Ekho’s presence?”

Amu frowned.

“Never heard of it,” Amu said. “Our illusions are quite strong, unnoticeable to the mortal eye.”

“Even with a warlock?” Tani asked.

“Yes. Our magik blends different from a mortal warlock,” Amu said.

“Hm.”

“Why?”

Tani studied the bandage on his right palm. There was no need to hide his wound. Hera would have already shared the incident with Tom. Tom would have told Amu.

“How strong does an Ekho need to be to create a bloodborne warlock powerful enough to burn me?” Tani asked.

Amu’s gaze lingered on Tani’s right palm. When he looked up to meet Tani’s gaze, his green eyes were full of sadness.

“None in the lower clans can make a fire warlock,” Amu said. “Not even our fox clan can manage it.”

“So, it is an Ekho in the immortal clan,” Tani said.

“Yes,” Amu said. “Not just the immortal clan, someone in the Septum itself. This is dangerous knowledge to have, Tani.”

Tani scoffed.

“They punish me for loving a mortal,” Tani said. “Yet they are wandering the mortal realm leaving offspring behind.”

“They are not bonding their souls to mortals,” Amu pointed out, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“You’ve never forgiven me.”

“No,” Amu said. “Because it hurts your mother—”

“Hurts my mother,” Tani cut in, shaking his head.

Anger rose inside him so deep it threatened to choke him. He swallowed hard and glared at his uncle.

“She hurt me first!” Tani said, raising his voice, unable to hold back his dissatisfaction with his mother.

“Tani—”

“She. Hurt. Me. First,” Tani said, pointing a finger at Amu, as he stood up. “You don’t get to bring her up to me. I’m the child she still can’t stand to look at because of her forbidden love for my father. I remain abandoned by her to this day. I will not hear of what she’s suffered.”

Amu held his words.

Tani turned away from his uncle taking in deep breaths to calm himself. He worked at not thinking about his mother. Tried not to remember the expression on her face when she last looked at him. He wished he could forget the hate he read in her eyes. He did not understand why she broke down in heartbreaking sobs when she looked at him.

Tani stared at his right palm and shook his head.

“You’re right about one thing. It’s my fault for being as weak as she was with my heart,” Tani said. “I dragged Dante into my world. I’ll save him from it.”

“You can’t make such promises, Tani. I could not save your mother,” Amu said. “I could not save you from binding your soul to a mortal. What I’m trying to tell you is that you cannot save someone who doesn’t think they need to be saved. Free will is not something you can stop.”

“He will not die because of me,” Tani said. “I won’t let it happen. Do we agree?”

“Yes, sounds fair enough,” Amu said.

“I will not ask for forgiveness from you,” Tani said. “You are right about my choices to bind myself to Dante. My love was freely given. It is not wrong. I don’t regret my choices.”

“I don’t expect you to ask for forgiveness,” Amu said.

Tani nodded and started for the door, cured of sitting in the dark now.

“About your mother,” Amu said.

Tani froze, standing still, holding his breath.

“She asked about you,” Amu said, his voice low, careful. “Your mother gave me three apple trees she’s been tending to mark your born day. She was sorry she missed it last month. Do you want to plant them?”

Tani closed his eyes, fighting down the urge to lash out at Amu for bringing up his mother. Thinking about her always left him feeling unhinged. Like a wildling lost in the forest without kin.

“I’ll think about it,” Tani said, and left the library with fast steps.

*~*~*~*~*

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Dante studied the tall sycamore tree on the edge of Viola’s property. It should have burned leaves and branches, but it did not. It was safe and looked…greener. The presence he felt on the tree had protected it from his fire spell. The unharmed tree was the only evidence he could use to verify the powerful aura that seeped into his house, forcing him outside in search.

Shaking his head, he returned to the house, closing and locking the kitchen door. Normally, he would be worried about such a powerful being so close to this house. However, the unburnt sycamore tree made him feel secure. The entity did not mean any harm to his family.

Dante rinsed his glass of water in the sink and placed it on a rack. Switching off the light, he stared at the sycamore tree through the picture window for a moment and then headed back to the study.

It was four o’clock in the morning, and sleep was long gone for him. He sat behind the desk and opened a folder holding a new co-parenting agreement sent by his lawyers.

Viola, his ex-girlfriend and the owner of this house, wanted to see him less and have him pay more upkeep for their two children, Zachary and April Arturo. Their separation long decided a year after April was born, nine years ago. He turned the agreement papers to the signing section to find that Viola had already signed her part with flourish. The confidence in her signature reassured him.

Viola was happy with her new boyfriend of three years.

Dante could not blame Viola for finally making a stand with him. It was his fault they were no longer together. Dante spent too much time at digs around the world, teaching, or staying at his family home in Turkey, to give Viola the stability of family she needed.

Tired of Dante’s constant absence after April’s birth, Viola bought this house in the quiet suburbs of Kirtland, Ohio. She was a qualified Registered Nurse, so she found a job working in a nearby hospital, and created the stability their children needed without Dante.

Their first co-parenting agreement was simple.

Dante had the right to visit as he wished to see Zach and April. Their old agreement also included vague guidelines in terms of financial support. Dante simply made sure Viola received a part of his income for the children’s upkeep, and if she needed money for an emergency, he sent it.

Now, Viola was thinking of the children’s future, as well as her own.

Dante assumed Viola’s relationship with her current boyfriend was getting serious. She had asked Dante to visit so they could finalize a more formal co-parenting agreement. An agreement dealing with his scarce visits included a more comprehensive financial support plan.

Glad he was more financially secure after nine years of hard work, Dante gave his lawyers access to the two irrevocable trust funds he created for Zach and April when he first started working. The trusts would help fund the children’s college education. His children were secure financially, but he could never boast of being a great father.

As far as he could see, Viola’s current boyfriend was doing a better job with Zach and April than him.

Dante picked up a pen and signed his part in the new agreement.

With the new agreement, Dante would no longer have a right to walk into this house at will. He would need to call Viola and ask her to arrange a meeting with Zach and April. They were thirteen and ten, respectively, this year. When they each turned eighteen, they would have the choice to decide if they wanted to visit him at his family home.

Taking in a deep breath, Dante sat back in his chair, staring at the now complete agreement. This process should have bothered him, but he felt nothing. This lack of reaction was probably why Viola kicked him out of her life.

The signed co-parenting agreement was a perfect ending to a chapter he started without much thought or feeling. Shaking his head, he closed the folder and stood.

It was time to move on from this disastrous decision.

The mystery of the powerful entity on the sycamore tree needed resolving. This was not the first time he felt the powerful aura seeping into his personal space. It appeared three times before, once at the airport, once near his apartment in Istanbul and at the Elderwood Conservancy, which meant whatever it was, it had followed him to Viola’s house. There was also the mysterious warning from the family grimoire. Dante wondered if the powerful aura had something to do with the warning.

He could only follow the matter when he was home.

Upstairs, Dante entered Zach’s room, his steps very quiet, and stood watching his son sleep for a moment. The boy had taken many of Viola’s features. There was not much of him on Zachary. Dante stepped forward and brushed a lock of hair away from Zach’s forehead. He pressed a kiss on smooth skin. Zach slept on, undisturbed.

Strange, but his children remained untouched by his bloodline’s gifts.

Dante knew they needed a warm, secure home, instead of entering his paranormal world at Artri House on the Island of Aretias, off the Turkish Coast.

“Zarardan korumak,” Dante murmured, a sliver of white dust falling from his fingers onto Zach’s chest, absorbing into his skin.

The protection spell would keep Zack from danger and ill intentions. It would also alert Dante if the boy were ever in real danger.

“I hope you understand me when you’re older,” Dante murmured into Zach’s ear, brushing his lips on the boy’s light hair.

Pulling the covers higher on Zach’s shoulders, Dante got up and left the boy’s room in silence.

He entered April’s room; he bit back a sigh when he heard her sharp intake of air. She was awake, lying still, pretending to be asleep. His daughter always saw and heard too much. A small lamp on her left bedside table was the only source of light.

Dante approached the bed and perched on the right side, arranging the messy covers around her. Her mink-black hair matched his. She was on a quest to grow it long. She tried her best to escape trimming but Viola was a persistent woman. At the start of summer, Viola got April into a salon that chopped her tresses to her shoulders.

April cried for a week at the loss.

Dante touched the beautiful, neat shoulder-length dark hair.

“April, you’re a beautiful girl,” Dante said, his voice low to keep from waking Viola and Zach. “Don’t ever doubt it. Your mamma loves you more than anything else in the world. She tries her hardest to make sure you look and have the best. She only wants you happy. Don’t be hard on her. I’m sorry for not being the father you need.”

April remained under the covers, not moving or reacting to his words.

Dante stroked her hair and murmured his protection spell, adding on a little bit of magic to let her hair grow faster, even when it was trimmed. He moved his hand away and April pushed back the covers, turning to him with panic in her eyes.

“Dad,” April said, her voice shaking, her eyes filled with tears.

Dante smiled at her.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” he asked, pressing his palm to her soft cheek.

Dante brushed away a tear with his thumb and looked into brown eyes that matched his own. April took most after him. She gave him no doubt that she was his daughter. It was sad she had not inherited his gifts. Then again, in the distant future, April would one day get a child. Her child may inherit his gifts.

Dante would need to make sure his mother prepared for such a happening, just as his grandfather did for him.

“You’re leaving us,” April said.

Dante stared at her for a moment and then nodded.

“I have to return to my home.”

“Why?” April asked. “Can’t you take us with you?”

“I can’t,” Dante said. “School will start soon, and your mamma needs you here.”

“Why can’t you stay?” April asked. “Dad, why do you have to leave us? Why can’t you stay with mamma? What if we never see you again?”

Dante bit his bottom lip wondering how to answer her questions without hurting her.

“I can’t stay because I’m not the right partner for your mamma,” Dante said. “She’s found someone who is good to her, and to you and Zach. I can promise to visit you in the summer or during the holidays. You will see me again, April.”

“Can we visit you?” April asked, her gaze hopeful.

“Yes, when your mother allows it,” Dante said with a nod. “You are welcome in my home, April.”

April studied him with bright brown eyes, a frown creasing her forehead, so he held her gaze until she relaxed in her bed.

“Can I call you?” April asked.

“Yes, as often as you want,” Dante said. “If I don’t answer, I’ll call you back. Okay?”

April gave him a quick smile.

“Make sure you send me postcards. Zach doesn’t care about those, but I want some. I like collecting them.”

Dante nodded.

“Alright, I promise to send postcards.”

April reached for his hand and held it tight.

“Can you stay until I fall asleep again?” she asked, this time her voice small, uncertain.

Dante leaned in to kiss her forehead. He arranged the covers around her shoulders with his free hand.

“I’ll sing you a song,” Dante said, and she smiled.

April held onto his hand as he hummed an old lullaby taught to him by his grandmother. The words forgotten, but the tune remained. April closed her eyes, and as Dante watched, she slipped into a deep sleep. She would wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to start another day.

Dante caressed her cheek, added to his protective spell, and let go of her hand.

Dante stepped out of April’s room and hurried to his own. His suitcase was already packed. He took a shower and dressed for his trip home. At five-thirty in the morning, he went downstairs. He found Viola making coffee in the kitchen. She was dressed in blue scrubs, ready for her shift at the hospital.

“Thank you,” Viola said, handing him a mug of coffee. “For signing the agreement without fuss, and the trusts for the kids.”

Dante sipped the coffee once and held on to the mug.

Viola liked making coffee, but she never realized he hated the drink. He preferred brewed tea.

“Are you heading to Istanbul?” Viola asked.

“Hm,” Dante said, placing the mug on the sink counter.

He went to the fridge and found a bottle of water. Cracking the seal, he drank half the water, as he watched Viola pack up lunch for the kids. She stole glances at him through the process.

Dante leaned on the counter next to the refrigerator and searched for what to say to her.

“I’m not mad at you anymore,” Viola said, saving him from starting a conversation. She zipped up the second lunch box and placed both on the kitchen table. “There was a time I looked at you and I wanted to scream at you, but that feeling is gone. You’re quite frustrating, Dante.”

“I’m sorry,” Dante said, capping the bottle of water. He stared at the white tiles on the floor, and then at his neat brown loafers.

The one person he had wronged in this world was Viola. There was a time his relationship with her was too strained at best. At its worst, they could not stand in the same compound, no matter how many hectares one added. His fault, Dante acknowledged with an open heart.

He met Viola during his rebellion period. They were both at university in New York. He was twenty-two, working on his master’s degree in archeology, and training under an unforgiving Arturo Grandmaster’s guidance. He met Viola on a trip to Italy, to see the ancient buildings and excavations. She was twenty-one, wild and happy.

Viola talked with passion in every pore. Dante chose to sink into her zest for life, for a time, in order to cope with the pressures of his life. He allowed Viola to fall in love with him while he felt nothing for her. He let her live the dream of becoming his wife. A dream he knew he could never fulfill for her.

Viola was beautiful, passionate, and driven, yet she did not move his heart. She could not touch his heart, no matter how many times she professed her love. For some reason, his heart remained frozen cold, untouched. He could not explain it any other way.

They tried to stay together after Zachary was born, renting an apartment in New York together. They lived in that two-bedroom apartment until April was born. Dante was rarely home for Viola and the children. He went off on digs on a quest he dared not explain to Viola.

Soon, the great collapse of the illusion he wove for Viola began. Viola’s tolerance of him ended, and the hollow love holding their unregistered family together dissipated, and vanished. Viola moved out of New York. Dante moved back to the family home in Turkey.

His betrayal broke Viola and she would not forgive him for a long time. He once offered to take their children, but she slapped him for the suggestion, insisting on taking care of her children on her own.

“Sorry does not fix anything,” Viola said in answer to his apology, her voice steady and strong. “You’ve said sorry to me more times than I care to count. We’re finally in a place we can have a conversation. Don’t ruin the balance by repeating a useless phrase. Dante, I don’t know what makes your heart so cold. My children and I could not warm it, no matter how much we tried. I hope you find something to break the ice in you open. Maybe it will turn you into a decent man.”

“You think I’m not decent?” Dante asked, lifting his head to look at Viola.

She stood in the middle of the kitchen. Her hands were at her waist, staring at him with pity in her eyes. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was held in a tight ponytail. A mask rested at her neck, a habit born of having to wear a mask constantly these past two years, and her job making it mandatory.

Viola sighed and shook her head.

“It’s shocking but after all these years of knowing you, I feel like I don’t know much about you, Dante. You’re no father, not a husband, or even a lover. You don’t fit words like decent, kind, understanding, or even loving. I sincerely cannot use these words to describe you.”

Dante absorbed her tirade, already used to the bursts of frustration from Viola. It seemed he made her feel angry on sight.

“What words would you use for me?” Dante asked, curious.

“One word, Dante. Cold,” Viola said without hesitation. “You are locked away behind a cold wall where no one can reach you. Not even my sweet April is able to break in. It’s a tragedy. I’m sorry we could not save you.”

Dante nodded and dumped his half-drunk bottle into the trashcan under the chopping counter. He straightened up and adjusted his blue suit jacket, buttoning it over his white dress shirt.

“If I stand here longer, we’ll descend to insults. We’ve said all we can say to each other,” Dante said. “You have my numbers and those of my lawyers. If you need anything, call or message me. I’ll leave you to your warm house. April mentioned wanting to visit me at Artri House. If she ever asks, give her permission, Viola.”

“Will your mother mistreat her the way she did me when I met her in New York?” Viola asked. “Like an outsider who does not belong.”

“April is my daughter,” Dante said. “She will always belong to Artri House. Give her permission when she’s ready to visit. My mother will welcome her with open arms.”

Viola stared at him in shock.

Dante gave her a farewell nod, then turned and left the kitchen. He got his luggage from where he left it by the stairs. Giving the second floor where his children slept, one last glance, he turned and left a house he no longer had the right to visit at will. He got into his rented car and drove to the airport eager to return home.

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Now, in the mid-year of twenty twenty-one, Tani could no longer boast like a fledgling. His heart was already torn to pieces, numbed and stabbed by his beloved’s consistent choice. A choice, which never included him.

Tani could no longer boast to Cale, who watched his defeat materialize with each century past.

The family living in the two-story house meant his beloved had, once again, chosen another soul instead of him. At the end of his thousand years in this mortal world, he now knew how silly he must have looked to his father hundreds of years ago. Love was not enough to make a life together, nor was it enough to convince his beloved to choose him.

Tani had lost, thoroughly.

His sentence awaited him back home in the Ekho Realm.

It was time to give up on the mortal realm.

At what point did love turn to hate? And, why did his heart never hate his beloved?

“You are facing the last chance in your thousand-year calamity, Tani,” Cale said, his voice low, free of contempt and teasing. “I know you’re weary. I would be too after all the years you’ve pursued him. Your beloved mortal is thirty-five years old. I’m surprised you waited so long to find him.”

Tani shrugged. The reason he waited…or hesitated to find his beloved was that he was tired. No longer confident in his love and his choice to bind his heart to the mortal.

He just wanted the trial to end.

Tani took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The warm night air made him wish for the cold of winter. At least then, the weather suited his mood.

“What happens if I decide not to meet him?” Tani asked.

“Nothing. Live out the century until its end,” Cale said, his tone matter of fact. “Your beloved will die in his chosen life. You will have no right to enter the human realm ever again. A fact, which hurts you because I know the life you’ve built in this realm. The punishment of not returning here will devastate you. Are you willing to ignore that you need him desperately?”

Tani closed his eyes. Sorrow filled him, and Cale sighed with pleasure next to him. It was expected. At this point, Cale would be his only companion in the years to come. There was no need to push him away.

The thought of never seeing his beloved’s face again filled him with acute sadness.

In a cruel twist of fate, his many centuries in the human realm managed to give him a community of souls he did not want to forget or leave behind. He had created a home he cared for, a world he nurtured. All of it lost to him if he could not get his beloved to choose him.

“Your pain is the best kind,” Cale said, stretching his arms over his head with a pleased smile. “Fine, delicious pain, old and refined, it’s like nothing I’ve ever fed on. It’s hard to give up. I ask you, Tani. If you don’t complete your part of this trial this time, the past nine hundred years will have been a waste. Is this the outcome you hoped for?”

Tani opened his eyes to stare at the two-story house.

A light turned on downstairs, the picture windows showing off a neat open kitchen. A tall man walked deeper into the room, sending Tani’s heartbeat racing in his chest. His eyes feasted on the toned body dressed in a plain white t-shirt and old pajama bottoms. The urge to cross the backyard to the kitchen windows was strong. Tani ground his teeth and reminded his stupid heart that the man in the kitchen had already made the choice of love before they met.

Unable to look anymore, Tani started to turn away, but Cale’s next words stopped him.

“He dies in a year, you know,” Cale said.

“What do you mean?” Tani asked, looking at Cale in shock.

“You always ran away after he made the choice to marry and live with his mortal mate,” Cale said. “You hide in the conservancy network you have built. Waiting for the next century, hoping he chooses you the next time. In the last cycle you got very close, so it broke you harder when he chose the woman, Violet. You never bothered to discover how long they stayed happy.”

“He has chosen her again this time,” Tani said, hating the anger coloring his voice. It was never easy to watch the man he loved with someone else. “She is the opposite of everything I stand for. She gives him children, a legacy, then and now. What is the point of interfering? Death is part of mortal life, Cale. I might not come to look for him before he dies, but I do make sure the children he leaves behind are looked after, as he once asked of me. They lack for nothing.”

“Yes, you take care of the descendants. It’s admirable,” Cale said. “However, you have never known why he dies. You have refused to notice that it is a common occurrence. Never once changing in the past nine centuries. In every reincarnation, he has never lived beyond thirty-six. I never understood why and wondered if you noticed. Then again, you used to rush to meet him early, and by twenty-five, he rejects you so thoroughly you run off. Within five years, he makes his choice and while living his chosen life, you leave to nurse a broken heart. Each time he lives with this woman, he only makes it to thirty-six years old. The century ends and the reincarnation restarts.”

Tani’s gaze returned to the man drinking water from a glass in the kitchen.

“Why did you never mention it?” Tani asked.

“You never want to know what becomes of him after he leaves you,” Cale said. “Tani, you’re as petty as your fox mother. She has refused to see your father until this day. You both take rejection too personally. Perhaps, the reason why your beloved never chooses you is that you abandon him too.”

“That’s not fair,” Tani said, shaking his head.

“What if his soul disappears after this century?” Cale asked. “What if your calamity has given him the chance to reincarnate when his soul wishes to move on to something else?”

“Don’t joke around,” Tani said.

“I’m not,” Cale said. “I’m pointing out a variable you have refused to notice. He is mortal. I can’t interfere with the rules of his world, his choices. Maybe you rushed it before and missed a crucial clue. Approach him, Tani. He might surprise you and choose you this time. He is an archeologist. His work tells me he looks for you in his own way. I think he will make an interesting encounter. There’s something about him…”

“You are trying to get me to meet him,” Tani scowled. “Cale, he has chosen Violet in this life. Her name might be different now, but I recognize her from earlier centuries. They have two children. The choice is done. There is no hope for us.”

“Perhaps,” Cale said, then gave Tani a startling smile. “Perhaps not. You have a year to meet him and discover why he dies at thirty-six.”

Tani started to respond, but Cale chose to disappear as fast as he appeared earlier. Tani returned his attention to the man in the kitchen.

His beloved stood tall, always filled with confidence. Tani knew if he got closer, he would look into piercing, expressive brown eyes that saw into his soul. Best of all, his fox eyes loved the gold mist aura surrounding him. If Tani got closer, the scent of jasmine coming off the mist would fill his nostrils. Intoxicating, it called to him, forcing him to reach for his beloved with his entire heart.

With each century gone, it had become harder to exist without the scent of jasmine or seeing the gold mist surrounding his beloved. Tani always felt ripped apart when his beloved walked away from him. It took everything to feel complete again.

Tani sighed and pulled his hands out of his pocket. He started to teleport and leave, but then he paused when the kitchen door opened.

His beloved came out, his gaze intent on the tall tree where Tani stood.

“What are you?”

The question startled Tani.

Tani froze on the thick tree branch, staring at the man watching him. He did not speak, afraid he was misreading the situation. There was no way the mortal could see him. Tani was using an illusion to hide his presence on the tree.

“You follow me. I can’t see you, but I can feel you. I felt you in Istanbul at the airport. This is the third time this month. You’re strong, whatever you are.” His beloved spoke in a cajoling tone. “Why do you watch me?”

Tani held still, afraid if he moved his beloved would see him, discover him.

Then, he scoffed at the thought. Silly, you can always leave without him noticing. He started to complete his teleport.

“Kendini göste,” his beloved said.

A large wave of heat rushed toward the tree. Shocked by the intense power, Tani stopped his exit. Years of devotion to conserving forests had him bringing his right hand up to absorb the damaging wave of heat. The impact of the heat spell was damaging, the fire singed his palm and coat sleeve. It took Tani considerable effort to reverse the damage. The effort he could not waste on healing his palm, so he got burned.

His beloved’s spell was simple enough. It held an order for Tani to reveal his true form or die, a warning. The force behind the order, hot enough to singe Tani’s palm, spoke of power: Bloodborn warlock power.

Tani stared at his beloved, who still stood in the garden studying the untouched tree, in surprise. Shock filled Tani because he could never have imagined his beloved would be Ekho-blessed.

When had a Bloodborn warlock joined his beloved’s bloodline?

It looked like Cale had a point, for once.

Tani had missed something.

“This is new,” Tani murmured, looking at his stinging red palm.

“I’m sure I’ve hurt you…somewhere. If you want your burn healed, come down here,” his beloved said with a satisfied chuckle.

“How dare you,” Tani said, then turned and returned to his domain without giving his beloved the satisfaction.

Tani needed to meet his uncle before he met Dante Arturo face-to-face. He needed to understand how his beloved would end up a bloodborne warlock.

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Dante followed his navigator to find the Elderwood Conservancy. It was strange how he had grown up on this island and never known a conservancy existed there. An understated green gate stood as the only deterrent to entering the dirt path leading to the property. Dante started to put his car in park so he could enter, but a guard appeared from the small office near the gate. He opened the gate with a nod, not asking Dante any questions.

Dante frowned and thanked the man as he drove down the straight dirt road. Five minutes later, he found two roads branching on different sides. The one on the right side had thicker bushes and looked less used. The road on the left had a single sign saying ‘main office’. Dante turned his black SUV toward the main office.

Ten minutes later, he sat staring at the building housing the conservancy in pleasant surprise. It was a fortress, complete with four towers and a courtyard. Fifteenth century, ottoman architecture, Dante grinned. The walls looked well-maintained. The guardians of the Elderwood Conservancy took their job seriously. The only blight on the authentic building was the front entrance. It was very modern, with glass walls showing off a reception hall.

Dante reached for the bag holding his soil samples and came out of the car. He hurried to the entrance eager to see what the inside looked like. Dante entered, heading to the receptionist’s desk. She smiled in welcome, but before he could reach her, a man who looked in his late twenties came into the reception hall from a corridor beyond.

“Welcome to Elderwood. I’m Tom King.”

“Dante Arturo.”

“We rarely get visitors who aren’t planned,” Tom said. “The gatekeeper alerted us that you were on your way. How may I help you?”

Dante held up the bag with his sample soils.

“Mr. King, I’m here to request assistance. Our vineyard on the other side of the island is facing an invasion of corrupted soil. We cannot find the cause. Professor Roberto heard about our dilemma and sent me to your conservancy,” Dante said. “He says you have researchers who test soil on the island.”

“Yes, we do,” Tom said, his interest growing. “Are you saying you have a vineyard here in Aretias?”

“Yes, Arturo Vineyards. They are a family enterprise,” Dante said with a proud smile. “My mother looks after them. I’m a World History professor based in Istanbul. I met Professor Roberto at Koc University. He referred me to your organization.”

“Roberto is a good man,” Tom said. “He is a longtime friend of Elderwood. Yesterday, he gave me a call and told me a desperate colleague of his would stop by. He never told me your name. We would have been more ready. This is very interesting,” Tom pointed to the bag Dante was holding. “May I take this from you?”

“Yes.” Dante handed Tom the bag with the soil samples. “How long will it take to discover what is wrong with the soil?”

“I can only tell you once our lab technician gets a good look,” Tom said. “We should have an answer for you by tomorrow morning.”

Dante reached for his wallet and found his card. He handed it to Tom.

“You can call me at any time,” Dante said. “Our vineyard is eager to solve the problem. The rot is growing in our olive grove and we’re worried it will find its way to the vines. The loss would be unimaginable. I would also like to know if it is reversible. I do not want to lose our old olive trees.”

“We’ll help however we can,” Tom said.

Dante nodded and looked to the corridor beyond the receptionist, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior of the main fortress building.

“Uh,” Dante started. “Would it be possible to step into the courtyard? I mean—would it be okay to see the fortress? Am I being rude?”

Tom chuckled.

“Don’t worry. You’re not the first to ask. I’m sorry I can’t let you go in though. The entrances into the courtyard are under construction,” Tom said. “It is a necessary effort. The building is very old and you’ve come when we’re undertaking serious restoration efforts.”

“Wow, I would love to be part of such a project,” Dante said, excited by the prospect. “I have students who would love a visit to this place. Is it possible to arrange a tour, even during the restoration process? I think it would be educational.”

“We have never thought of doing it, but I’m sure it is possible. I would have to make arrangements with the conservancy’s staff,” Tom said. “I’ll talk it over with everyone here and let you know what we decide when I call about the soil samples.”

“Perfect,” Dante said. “I can’t believe I’m only discovering this place now.”

“We are found at the right time,” Tom replied.

What a strange way to word it, Dante thought. His phone beeped and he reached for it, finding a message from his overworked TA.

“I’m running late for a lecture. I have to go,” Dante said with a sigh. “Mr. King, I’m really interested in a tour of your fortress. I hope your response is positive. Thank you again for agreeing to check on our soil samples. The vineyard will handle the invoices if you sent them to us. The email address is on the card I’ve given you.”

“I’ll make sure to give you a call tomorrow,” Tom said.

Dante thanked Tom again and left the building, rushing to his car. He opened the driver’s door and stopped when he felt a stifling force in the woods closest to the building. He turned and looked at the forest with a frown. The powerful force retreated and he let out a soft sigh, feeling relieved. He saw nothing in the woods, no person standing in the shadows. He frowned. Maybe he was imagining things. Shaking his head, he got in his car and drove out of the conservancy.

*~*~*~*

“Babu, Dante has been at the conservancy,” Tom reported, staring at the bag filled with soil sample containers.

“What does he want?”

“A soil analysis,” Tom said. “He says his family has a vineyard on our island Aretias. It is called Arturo Vineyards. I can’t believe he was so close to us. I’ve not heard of them.”

“He is very close…”

Tom waited, as his boss’s voice trailed off in thought.

“It feels like there is something I have not accounted for. Start the analysis right away. Do it yourself, Tom. Let me know what the report says when you finish.”

“I’ll get it done,” Tom said. “Also, he wants a tour of the fortress. I’m guessing it’s the archeologist in him making the request. He wants to bring a few students with him.”

“He has a lot of wants. Uncle Amu will have more to say about the tour. I don’t care.”

“Amu Ryuzo has long left you to run us all,” Tom said.

“He has?” A lazy sigh. “I suppose he has. Then, Tom, it’s up to you. You decide.”

The call ended.

Tom was left standing in the reception hall staring at the black bag from Dante Arturo filled with soil samples. It felt like the start of another great strife was imminent.

*~*~*~*

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