{"id":30645,"date":"2012-10-07T09:00:47","date_gmt":"2012-10-07T13:00:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/?p=30645"},"modified":"2012-10-05T09:19:35","modified_gmt":"2012-10-05T13:19:35","slug":"blind-destiny-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/2012\/10\/blind-destiny-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Blind Destiny"},"content":{"rendered":"

Have you entered to win a feather From an Angel’s Wing<\/a>? \u00a0It’s the contest to celebrate the release of Blind Destiny<\/em>…<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Then\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cLook at that pasty white face\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

The girl ignored their vile \u00a0whispers as best as she could. She had known she would not receive a warm welcome in this life. She had not thought it would be this unwelcoming, perhaps, but she had not expected anything pleasant. That, at least, had been a blessing. It would have been a cruelty beyond measure to think she had been given into a marriage where she would be loved, valued, even treated with kindness, only to come to a place where she had known nothing butbrutality from the very first day.<\/p>\n

Myrsina had known her life here would not be kind. But she had only herself to blame. Her father had wanted nothing so much as to be rid of her. It was all any of them had wanted.<\/p>\n

He was well rid of her now, was he not? He was well rid of her and she was here, alone.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee how she acts as though she cannot hear us, or see us? As though she thinks herself better than us.\u201d<\/p>\n

The malice in the woman\u2019s voice was enough to send a shiver down Myrsina\u2019s spine. The hatred that particular woman carried for her was\u2026unimaginable. And Myrsina didn\u2019t understand why. It wasn\u2019t as though their shared husband had any love for her. He cared nothing for her. He cared nothing for any of them. All he wanted was to get them with child. To breed, then move on to the next. His rutting on them wasn\u2019t particularly pleasant, but nor was it particularly painful. There were no sweet, tender moments that he shared between any of the wives.<\/p>\n

A fact Myrsina knew all too well.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hear she speaks with devils. That she does unnatural things.\u201d<\/p>\n

Myrsina tensed as she went to leave the courtyard. Lifting her head, she stared across the gardens as the woman. Their gazes locked and the older woman smiled. It was a cold, ugly little smile, full of hatred and ugliness and contempt. And Myrsina realized the truth. That woman knew; somehow, she knew.<\/p>\n

Myrsina eased the cloak she kept wrapped around her mind, lifted it as much as she dared and she chanced a quick look. Quick, she must be quick\u2014one never knew what awful things lurked out there, waiting for a vulnerable soul. Myrsina had seen what happened when those vulnerable ones weren\u2019t careful. She wouldn\u2019t be one of them. She wouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

But all she saw when she glimpsed that woman\u2019s mind was meanness. A vicious, ugly woman with a shallow, twisted bit of a heart. But still. Just a woman.<\/p>\n

Why do you hate me so<\/em>?<\/em><\/p>\n

Then she turned away. She would go about her life. And sooner or later, her husband\u2019s other wives would forget their torment of her. It was how life worked, after all.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But she was wrong.<\/p>\n

The taunting and jibes worsened, rather than lessened. Cruel words gave way to cruel jabs in the ribs. Myrsina would find herself stumbling on the stairs, and although she knew which of the women had pushed her, when all of them stood together and assured the husband nothing had happened, Myrsina had simply tripped\u2026<\/p>\n

Eventually, she kept her words to herself. Even when she was pushed hard enough that she broke her arm, she said nothing.<\/p>\n

It became so awful that she rarely wanted to leave the comfort of the kitchen. There, she felt safe. A woman had taken pity on her and in her, Myrsina found something of a friend. It was as she was sipping from a cup of tea her sixth month into marriage that the woman asked her how she was faring.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve been sick in the morning, child. More and more.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Myrsina knew.<\/p>\n


<\/strong><\/p>\n

Chapter Two<\/h1>\n

 <\/p>\n

Now\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe seven bloody sisters are myth,\u201d I told him, turning away and moving to the balcony. It faced out over the fountains and I focused on the play of the water as I reached down to cover my belly.<\/p>\n

Many memories of my life have faded. Both my time as a Grimm, and my time as a mortal. I\u2019d only been eighteen when I died\u2014when I killed myself. But I remember that bright and shining moment when I realized I was carrying a child. And I remembered those awful, horrid days that followed when I lost the babe. The only one I\u2019d ever carry.<\/p>\n

I also remember the day when I was strong enough to strike back. I didn\u2019t strike back as a mortal woman should have and that was my sin. The one I\u2019d borne for all these years.<\/p>\n

I could hear Luc moving behind me and I turned to watch him. Krell stood at his side, but the man didn\u2019t touch the dog, and the dog didn\u2019t touch the man. After a moment, the dog moved, nosing a bit here and there. Getting the lay of the land for his master, I knew. If I had felt like being nice, I suppose I could have offered to show them into the sitting area. The suite was enormous and the sitting area was through the doors to our right. But I didn\u2019t feel like being nice. Besides, if I knew Luc, he\u2019d rather find it for himself. And he could do that just fine on his own. Neither he nor Krell really needed my help.<\/p>\n

And they proved it too. Moments later, Krell padded into the sitting room and Luc followed along behind him, his steps sure and steady. Nobody looking at the man would guess that he couldn\u2019t see, that he hadn\u2019t been able to see in more than six hundred years. I hadn\u2019t known him while he had his sight. I\u2019d met him a few years after his change, once it became apparent that his psychic skill was going to be rather\u2026substantial. Then they turned him over to me.<\/p>\n

I rather wish they hadn\u2019t done that.<\/p>\n

I rather wish I\u2019d never met the man.<\/p>\n

And I rather wish I\u2019d never heard of the seven bloody sisters.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re all myths, aren\u2019t we?\u201d Luc asked from behind me.<\/p>\n

I glanced at him from over my shoulder. \u201cSome more so than others.\u201d Then I shrugged and went to wander around the room, seeking anything to occupy my mind. The seven bloody sisters. Why was he here asking about them? I could look; if I really wanted to see inside his mind, he couldn\u2019t keep me out. It would damage him, though. That was what kept me out. I wouldn\u2019t do that, not to him.<\/p>\n

Other people, it may not matter\u2014I couldn\u2019t care less if I caused headaches\u2026or worse. But I wouldn\u2019t bring myself to harm him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re telling me there is absolutely no truth to their existence, whoever the seven bloody sisters are supposed to be?\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed. I could still hear that silly movie playing. And for some reason it bothered me now. Listening to that silly dialog, that overly high voice, followed by the comical voices of the dwarves, while he asked me about the horror that spawned an awful legend. \u201cThe seven bloody sisters\u2014no truth to it? Luc, you should know that one person\u2019s truth is another person\u2019s story by now. But no, there is no truth to that tale. It\u2019s simply the ramblings of an old mad woman. She thought she knew the truth, but her mind was so eaten up by insanity she couldn\u2019t have told truth from fiction if her very life had depended on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Although he couldn\u2019t see me, he kept his face turned in my direction, and I could tell he was thinking through what I had told him. I hoped he would let it go at that. I should have known better.<\/p>\n

Yes, he should know by now that one person\u2019s truth was very often nothing more than a fairy tale. But he also knew how very adept I was at twisting words. After all, I was the one who\u2019d created his story.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho was this old woman, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed.<\/p>\n

The old woman? She was another one of my sins.<\/p>\n

I had many of them. But I couldn\u2019t regret what I\u2019d done to her. Not any more than I could regret what I had done to the wives.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s no wonder I\u2019ve never found any real hint of happiness. I lack any true conscience, and a woman like me? I don\u2019t deserve peace. I don\u2019t deserve happiness.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe old woman. She was a something of a mystic,\u201d I murmured, forcing myself to open my eyes and stare outside. \u201cAnd in the end, she doesn\u2019t matter all that much to this tale, I can tell you that much. She came along more than a millennia after the so-called sisters <\/em>had already died. The old woman, well, she could sense remnant energies and she was convinced that gave her something of power. She tried to seek out the books.\u201d<\/p>\n

I worried the hem of my T-shirt, thinking back to the night when I\u2019d found her the first time. I could have killed her then and never had been bothered by her. Killed her and not felt any guilt. But I hadn\u2019t. I couldn\u2019t even explain why. But she\u2019d been so close to that place; following her was something I simply hadn\u2019t had in me.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d stopped her from getting her hands on one of the demon tomes and that had been enough for me. It shouldn\u2019t have been. I should have ended her then.<\/p>\n

Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my hands over my face and then looked at him. \u201cShe almost had one. I stopped her. If I had been wise, I would have chased her but I didn\u2019t. Because she went to Greece, and that was one place I hated to go. But eventually, I had to follow her there. We always watched those who tried to get the books, you know. And since she\u2019d tried once\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe would try again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was our fear.\u201d<\/p>\n

The books. Damnable things. Crafted by demons, beguiling to mortal eyes, the books would seem like one of those silly coffee table or novelty books now. Spells and incantations and shit. Yes, it would seem<\/em> like nothing but harmless fun.<\/p>\n

They were deadly. They\u2019d been deadly when they were first crafted, of blood and skin and death and despair, and they were deadly now. I didn\u2019t even know how many were still in existence. We\u2019d destroyed dozens.<\/p>\n

But there were more out there.<\/p>\n

Sometimes a new one sprang up.<\/p>\n

It took a particularly strong sort of demon to craft one and it was a blight we could all feel\u2014a process that didn\u2019t take minutes or hours, but weeks, months. If we could feel it, we could hunt it. Hopefully find it, stop it.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t always work that way.<\/p>\n

The reason so many of them existed is because for a very long while, Will and I had been the only ones on watch. Hard to guard against all evil when there are only two of you.<\/p>\n

Even now, centuries and centuries later, we were still doing the clean up.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo she hunted the books.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. With a lot of success, I fear.\u201d I sighed, looked away from him to gaze out the windows at the dancing waters of the fountains. Usually it brought me peace. Joy. Now it just struck me as absurd waste. This entire waste, a useless extravagance. \u201cSometimes I wonder if I didn\u2019t let her live because she was<\/em> so adept at finding them. I destroyed three because of her. Anyway, she had enough power to hear things. Voices of those long gone. And she saw things, things long since past. And she could whisper to those we\u2019d rather not mention.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now Luc\u2019s attention sharpened, focused on me. \u201cShe could sense them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Them<\/em>\u2026not the dead. But the demons. He knew, without me saying anything.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Every so often, she\u2019d leave and try yet again to get to a book. And she\u2019d be stopped\u2014but sooner or later, I knew there was a risk she\u2019d succeed. The third time, I almost didn\u2019t get to her in time.\u201d I slid him a look from the corner of my eyes. \u201cSo I stopped her\u2014I made sure that canny mind of hers was nothing but rubbish by the time I was done. But her power\u2026that lingered. She spent the rest of her years rambling about the energies she sensed. All the folklore from that place comes from her insane ramblings. The place where she tells of the seven bloody sisters\u2014a tragedy happened there once, and she spun this convoluted tale about these women. She said they were sisters and she tells this terrible, heartbreaking story of their untimely death. It\u2019s nothing but rubbish, Luc.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently, it\u2019s not. There are people at the place where the legend is supposedly from and they think the place is haunted.\u201d He paused and made a face. \u201cMortals and their fascination with ghosts.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tensed. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard me.\u201d He pushed a hand through his hair and shrugged. \u201cWill didn\u2019t tell me much more than to seek you out and find out about the seven bloody sisters. That, and we\u2019re to go to Greece. Some fools have a mind to make a documentary and we\u2019re to stop them. I don\u2019t know if there\u2019s any of the demonic involved or not, but he was clear on one thing\u2014we don\u2019t want that documentary made.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA documentary?\u201d I stared at him for a long moment and then I turned away, looking outside. Just then, I\u2019d like to shatter the bloody glass and take a flying leap. Except it wouldn\u2019t kill me. It would hurt like hell, it would be all very dramatic and while Will was picking the glass out of my skin, he\u2019d lecture me for doing something so foolish.<\/p>\n

My legs went boneless as I thought it all through. A documentary. They were going to make a documentary. About that place.<\/p>\n

Where I died. Where I\u2019d lived. Where I\u2019d killed the wives.<\/p>\n

And where I\u2019d become.<\/p>\n

Fuck.<\/p>\n

As my legs gave out from under me, I dropped to the floor and continued to stare outside. This was really happening. I had to go back to Greece.<\/p>\n

\u201cSina.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d I asked distantly. I could handle this. I knew I could. I just had to get my mind in the right place. Separate what I had done, who I had been, the child I\u2019d lost, all of that from who I was now<\/em>. All well and good.<\/p>\n

\u201cI would assume, though, judging by what I\u2019m sensing in the air, you know more than you\u2019ve told me. Just what do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mortals and their fascination with ghosts. Filming a documentary. There?<\/p>\n

Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my chin on them. \u201cI know that the woman was a lunatic. Beyond that?\u201d Shrugging, I closed my eyes. Perhaps we\u2019d get there and the place would gone. Nothing but a hole in the earth. Stranger things had happened, after all. I was living proof. I\u2019d stabbed myself in the belly and instead of rotting in hell, I was still here.<\/p>\n

\u201cGreece,\u201d I whispered. \u201cI assume I\u2019m to go to Greece with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. And we have to go to wherever this legend was born. You need to tell me more about it, Sina. There\u2019s more to it than what you\u2019ve said.\u201d<\/p>\n

As he came around and settled down at my side, unerringly sitting so that he was just a few breaths away, I gazed at him. So perfect. So patient. So not for me. I hated that. Why couldn\u2019t he be for me?<\/p>\n

\u201cSina.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat aren\u2019t you telling me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm.\u201d Shifting my gaze away from him, I focused my attention back on the glass. \u201cOh, I\u2019ve told you everything I can about how the legend came to be. The old woman was born in 1749, died in 1829. I damaged her mind 1804 and she had a quarter of a century to spin tales about whatever she thought she knew. That\u2019s about it for the legend, Luc. Truly. There were no sisters there, Luc. Just an old madwoman.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t believe me.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n

There hadn\u2019t been seven bloody sisters.<\/p>\n

There had been wives. Eight of them. Seven of them had been terribly cruel, while one of them had been terribly mad.<\/p>\n

I had to go back there.<\/p>\n

Back to hell.<\/p>\n

Back to the place where I had died.<\/p>\n

To the place where I\u2019d been reborn.<\/p>\n

Back to the place where I\u2019d killed seven women. Where they\u2019d tormented me. Tortured me. Where they\u2019d killed my unborn child\u2026and nearly me.<\/p>\n

I supposed there were a few other things I might be less inclined to do. Telling Luc how I felt about him, perhaps. That, and going back to my mortal life\u2014miserable, unhappy years that they had been.<\/p>\n

Other than that, I couldn\u2019t think of anything that appealed to me less.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

Wanna read about the inspiration behind Myrsina’s ‘myth’? \u00a0It’s The Myrtle<\/a>, one of a bunch of ‘Snow White’ type tales.<\/p>\n

Enter the contest<\/a>…<\/p>\n

Read more about Blind Destiny<\/a>… or you can just preorder it. \ud83d\ude09<\/p>\n

Amazon<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0BN<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Samhain<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0iBookstore<\/a><\/p>\n

(This won’t be out in print for a while…it’s not long enough so it has to be paired up.)<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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