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Wild Magics

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Chapter 1: The Chosen One

Niall’s POV

I look out my palace window with a sigh, my sorrowful gaze roaming over the enchanted gardens of Faerie for the umpteenth time. The flowers and flora that should be ever in bloom, sustained eternally at their height of beauty, are now withering, seemingly right before my very eyes. This is a disturbing sight to be sure as the spelled wildlife is but an extension of our own Wild Magics, an outward sign of our inward vitality.

If the land itself is fading, that can only mean we as a people are failing as well. As troubling a realization as this is, it certainly doesn’t come as much of a shock as I well know we brought this plight upon ourselves, unknowingly of course, but that doesn’t change the fact that we only have ourselves to blame for our fading states.

You see, long, long ago, even before the start of my noteworthy five thousand year life, the different Supernatural groups lived in utter harmony, in a utopia of sorts; a sort of Supernatural Garden of Eden if you will. Weres of every flavor, Shifters of every sort, every last variety of Fae and yes, even Vampires lived together in harmony. Marriages and births between every different combination of species within the Supernatural realm were quite common then and we as a people flourished in our blissful paradise, separate from that of the human world.

But, unfortunately, like all seemingly perfect circumstances have a tendency to do, the peace between us would not last. No one is entirely sure anymore how the discord even began as every group recounts the tale quite differently, but, no matter the cause, inner turmoil and discontent was soon widespread, turning the once peace loving and accepting groups against one another. Constant quarreling and mounting conflict would eventually lead to bloody, gruesome wars between us. When the dust finally settled, the rifts between us all had grown to leave us the completely separate groups we are today, often sharing only in our loathing we hold for groups dissimilar to our own.

This was not how we were meant to live and the now fading Wild Magics only serve as proof of this. And it’s not only the Fae that are affected by this as the very same magics that fuel our light and grant us prolonged life are in fact the same magics that grant Weres and Shifters their ability to alter forms and Vampires the ability to live beyond their mortal deaths. We’re all so much more alike than any of today’s groups would care to admit and now, if we’re any chance of saving the world of Supernaturals as a whole, we must alter the different group’s ways of thinking, not only about themselves, but about one another as well.

Fortunately, I’ve come up with what I personally hold to be a rather brilliant plan with the help of my beloved sister, the Ancient Pythoness, the renowned Fae/Vampire hybrid with the gift of foresight. After she foresaw the one soul that would either lead us all to assured victory or ensure our permanent demise, the two of us set in motion a strategy that we hope will tilt the odds in our favor.

As if the mere thought of my kin is enough to conjure her to my side, a soft popping sound signals her timely arrival.

“Alexandra,” I warmly greet, turning to meet my sister’s milky white, all knowing stare beset within what I know to be a spelled, youthful façade. As her name would suggest, she truly is ancient, both in age as well as appearance, but claiming no one would take the word of a blind, old geezer, she has a habit of altering her outward appearance. Personally, I hold her sense of vanity to blame for this, but that’s just my opinion.

“Niall,” my sister answers back with the smallest of smiles. “It is time,” she states, earning an unseen nod from me before I look back out over the waning, enchanted fields of Faerie one last time.

“Yes, of course,” I sigh out; reaching out to place my hand upon my sister’s cloaked shoulder before abruptly popping us both to our destination. I glance up at the humble, aging farmhouse with a thoughtful frown. To think, just behind these paint-chipped, warped pieces of siding, rests the unassuming key to all our survival. Simply miraculous.

Alexandra and I trail towards the front door together, the night surrounding us thick with an air of curiosity, as if the evening itself yearns to look upon the prophesized one held within. One quick tap upon the worn front door succeeds in gaining us the attention of the home’s rightful owner and I soon find myself smiling warmly down to familiar, sparkling cornflower eyes beset within a gracefully aging face that’s softly framed by waves of silver.

“Adele,” I greet, nodding my head toward the mortal true love of my recently departed son, Fintan.

“Niall,” Adele greets back warmly, opening the door wide before us. “I’ve been expecting you both,” she informs us, welcoming us both into her quaint, ancestral home.

“I’d assumed as much,” I answer back with a smile, seeing Adele eye my sister with esteemed curiosity.

“And the babe?” my sister questions, her words succeeding in instantly bringing Adele to herself once more before she sends us an eager nod.

“Right this way,” she answers, signaling us to follow behind as she begins traversing deeper into the farmhouse. Alexandra and I follow along, the three of us soon coming to a small nursery adorned in shades of pinks and whites. We draw closer to the canopy adorned crib and my smile grows impossibly wide upon first laying eyes upon the blonde haired, blue eyed babe; Sookie Brigant, my great-granddaughter and the prophesized last mortal to be born with the spark of the Fae.

“She’s beautiful,” I commend, seeing Adele’s agreeing nod as my sister holds her outstretched hand above the softly cooing babe.

“Her spark glows bright,” Alexandra enlightens us, earning mirroring smiles from both Adele and myself.

“I knew my little Sookie was special from the very first moment these old eyes gazed into her own,” Adele assures us before letting out a long, shuddering sigh that seems to traverse through her entire form. I tilt my head, looking on inquisitively as she suddenly appears entire years older than only moments before.

“Your aura,” Alexandra whispers, shaking her silvery-blonde head sadly at Adele. “You’re fading, quickly too,” she reasons, earning a tired nod from the visibly withering woman before us.

“Soon after the car accident that took the lives of both our Corbett and his Michelle, Fintan placed an enchantment upon me to assure I’d remain my sweet Sookie’s guardian until the day my replacements arrived,” Adele sighs out, bracing herself against the crib’s railing with a weathered smile. “And here you are,” she wistfully adds just as she begins visibly fading from sight.

“Be sure to send Fintan my love, Dearest Adele,” I ask of her, seeing her face alight at my words once she’s well on her way to joining my beloved son in the Summerlands. I shake my head as she fades fully from view, once more amazed by her unwavering fortitude. The poor woman lost not only a son and daughter-in-law, but her own beloved as well, all within only mere months’ time. What a strong and tenacious woman she was; my Fintan certainly chose well for himself.

“The young princess will surely be blessed to inherit even a fraction of her mortal grandmother’s fighting spirit and loving nature,” my sister remarks, obviously holding similar regards for our young kin’s caregiver as I.

“That she will,” I concede, reaching down to take the tiny infant into my arms with an exuberant smile. “You’ve no idea just how long I’ve waited to hold you just like this, Little One,” I coo softly, earning me a senseless, babbling retort from my mortal kin.

“And yet much rides on her tiny, mortal shoulders,” Alexandra chimes in, casting a thoughtful frown to the gurgling infant in my arms.

“Must you always focus upon the negative, Alexandra?” I chide with a resigned sigh, not at all envious of my sister’s gift of foresight. No, to know the future, to be constantly shown varying and ever changing paths of any eventual outcome, is a burden I would not wish upon even my greatest of foes.

“Of course not,” my sister huffs in return, appearing rather put out by my remark. “And I don’t always focus upon the negative, Dearest Brother, I’m a realist is all and the challenges set before our young kin are great, both in number as well as in severity,” she insists to leave me sending a matching frown down to the fortunately oblivious babe held securely within my grasp.

“And that’s precisely why we’ve both been working so hard these past years,” I remind her. “Her future may be wrought with abundant danger and trials, but even you know no fate is ever set in stone. In taking careful precautions, we can surely help to ensure a bright future for our kin; one that, with any luck at all, will be blessed and will in turn, bless countless others as well.”

“Always the optimist,” my sister teases with an indulgent smile to earn but an eye roll from me. “You’re certainly not wrong though and this is precisely why I’ve willingly indulged you in your scheming ways,” she adds, chuckling amusedly as I shoot her a rather annoyed glare. “Oh, don’t get touchy. It’s a solid plan, Dear Brother, and one that I’ll remind you, I was more than happy to assist you with.”

“Yes, well, I certainly don’t recall you coming up with anything better,” I throw back, earning but a gallant shrug in return. “Besides, it’s much too late to change our plans as even now, our Sookie’s chosen guardians are surely making their way here,” I muse, watching my sister tilt her head slightly as a slow smile stretches over her face.

“I see you’re sense of timing has improved considerably, Brother,” she remarks. I only shake my head whilst softly bouncing the infant held within my arms.

“I only hope we’ve chosen well,” I state somewhat reservedly. “I’d certainly hate to know all our careful planning was for naught.” I frown down to the defenseless babe in my hands, knowing she’ll need the guidance and support of each of the guardians my sister and I have carefully chosen for her if she’s truly to succeed in helping us save the world of Supernaturals. She’s but a mere mortal and though my sister has not told me much of our kin’s possible future, I quickly came to realize I’d feel entire worlds better knowing she were protected by the very Wild Magics that we’re working to cultivate once more.

Calvin Norris the Alpha Werepanther, Eric Northman the Viking Vampire warrior, Alcide Herveaux the Alpha Werewolf, Rasul the ancient Vampire warrior, John Quinn the legendary fighting Weretiger and Godric the ancient Vampire of Gaul; these six men have each been carefully scrutinized and handpicked by my sister and myself. Each has royal blood running through their veins, or at least the equivalent of such and each of their futures are soon to become innately entwined with my mortal kin’s. I have to believe that so long as the fates remain on our sides, it will be the seven of them that, together, will play a key role in reuniting the Supernatural world.

“I sense six souls approaching,” Alexandra enlightens me before hitting me with her milky white stare that I’d swear sometimes grants her at least some form of visual sight. “How was it you decided upon this number again?”

“Ah, several factors influenced this decision,” I enlighten her somewhat proudly. “Firstly, according to the ancient tomes of the Fae, it was not unheard of to have up to six guardians bound to each member of the royal bloodline in order to ensure the prosperity of their regal ward and that’s exactly what we’re striving to do now; return to our ways of old,” I start, earning a quirked brow from my sister.

“Up to six perhaps, though, many were granted but one or two royal guardians,” she interrupts, earning a slight nod from me.

“True enough, though on account of our waning magics, it will take the combined powers of at least six individuals if we’re to perform the ancient ritual necessary for binding our young kin to her faithful guardians; at least, according to my estimations,” I reason, earning a slow nod from my sister before I see ‘that look’ come over her face, the look that tells me she’s witnessing events yet to come into fruition.

“I’d say your estimations are indeed correct, Brother,” she finally concedes with a rather wistful smile. I open my mouth to question what exactly she’s foreseen before abruptly snapping my mouth closed once more, knowing full well she’ll never indulge my curiosity.

“Excellent,” is all I say in reply whilst playfully bouncing the now giggling infant before us. “Did you hear that, Little Sookie?” I coo, my grin widening upon eliciting more delightful laughter from the fair babe. “You’re to meet your royal guardians and future kings this very night!”