REBIRTH'S DECISIONS

Hyrum stepped back, prayed, and exhaled.  Either the spell would work or fail miserably.  He had no control over the outcome.  No one but the two occupants laying side-by-side in the royal crested bed exercised even the slightest hint of control to decisions affecting the future of many.  Maybe time was on their side.  Maybe it wasn’t.  All he and Carlotta could do for now was watch and wait.

Carlotta’s whimpers sounded from next door.  Her fitful tossing and turning told him the journey began.  The path woven by her subconscious as she linked and strengthened by the bridge between Rachel and Tyburn psychically demand its toll from the builder.  Soon he would take Carlotta’s place as he slept, watching and waiting from the psychic realm while she took her turn in the corporeal one.  How much time and energy they would expend neither knew.  Their lives might be the price.  Thus was their destiny as deity’s guardians.  Enhanced, magically adept and ready to serve, often overlooked due to their position and posture within Soletron.  They knew their worth and value. 

Hyrum moved backwards, keeping his gaze upon Rachel and Tyburn.  Each covered in badges, spelled with healing herbs and incantations, swaddled in their individual and mutual ice blankets, lay touching.  Close enough to sense and feel the others presence without invading personal space unless intimacy happened.  That blaze of passion would come in the latter stages of awakening and renewal.  The final stage might find them locked in sexual congress renewing their connection and perhaps commitment.  Hyrum murmured one last prayer and spell before dropping into the over-stuffed recliner near the doorways leading from the suite.  He picked up the mug of warm broth sitting on the table next to the recliner.  As he sipped, he focused his thoughts on the hazy bridge and shapes taking form in his third eye.

Rachel glanced down at her feet.  Gray cloth shoes covered them.  Long sleeves similar in color graced her arms.   Even her gown reflected the same hue.  She inhaled pulling in the scents of the white wispy clouds billowing up around her.  Rain, heat, and an earthy dampness filled her nose.  Holding her hand out in front of her, she spoke.  “Storms of the past be no more.  Take me to the place I must find light that guides me home each and every time.”

The clouds rose up, engulfing her.  Swirling and darkening, brushing over her, soaking her and the garments she wore until their tears and angst became hers.  Images of her home on the Peak came and went.  Intense feelings warped through and over her.  Bone piercing pain began at the soles of her feet, racing its way upward until her knees buckled, dropping her on them.  Agony writhed its demonic hold deeper into her psyche.  Claiming her, twisting every part of her being, until. . .

White bright light flashed around her, blinding her, forcing her eyes closed.  Her clenched hands weighed like two stone pulling her down, down into the pool of her own tears and anxiety.  Fear iced the edges of the still pool of water.  Clear into the depths, she plunged unable to resist the lure of death’s call.  

A voice broke through her chaotic thoughts and images.  Nudging her back to the surface, guiding her to a place she didn’t know.  A place deep within herself.   “Rest and renew.  Learn and heal.  Together you are stronger than alone.  Yet each of you must be resilient and ready to walk the solo paths your choices present you.”

Rachel shuddered, sighed, and fell forward.  Healing and caring for herself came hard for her.  Her instincts told her this must be.  Her time on the Peak taught her this too.  She’d also learned temperance and concern, giving and feeding her soul sustenance simultaneously, and compromise.  When would her guide appear?  Directing her across the bridge and to the encounter she wasn’t sure she could withstand?

Tyburn winded with pain as he stood.  Dark gray clothing came into focus.  Splotches of red stained patches deep into the fabric.  Some were faded.  Others bore the hue of dried blood.  Some remained bright and tacit in quality.  He tried to breath, drawing in life and . . .

A male voice chastised him.  “You aren’t ready for that.  You cause pain and strife while justifying your actions with love and caring.  Your heart breaks and bleeds while you listen not.”

Tyburn grabbed his gut, clawing at his middle.  Pain in huge fire like waves scorched around and over him.  Agony laughed and cackled, echoing in his mind until, he fell.  He tried to rise. Intense sobs and screams screeched deep into his soul marking his being with burns and hurt until he laid face down sobbing uncontrollably. 

  

Winds swarmed around him, heating him until his throat and lips dried, cracking as if a great fever enveloped him.  Shaking, he placed his hands palm down attempting to rise.  He pushed up, raising his chest up until his arms straightened.  His elbows wobbled, threatening to crash him on his face again.  The winds picked up in intensity, buffeting him.  Reaching under him, pushing upward, raising him off his hands.  A huge burst swooped under him, flipping him over.

Tyburn rolled and rolled whooshed along like the tumble weeds and dust devils he observed during his time in the southwestern deserts of a place called America.  Flashes of the past raced before him, brambles and thorns pierced him and his garments.  A huge ominous boulder crashed toward him.  One thought remained, claiming him as he collided with the hard stone head first.  His own demonic half demanded and sued for payment for past debts he wasn’t sure he could afford.

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Happy Weekend Gang!

Sorry for the late post.  Pris whispered this part of Rachel and Tyburn's story to me last night as I slept.  Each of them are having to face themselves and make life changing decisions.  Decisions that may alter their lives and others too.  It isn't going to be easy.  And they have to face each other yet.  I sense a softer side of each is going to surface offering healing to both.  

I hope the weather isn't buffeted you and yours too badly as winter begins its descent upon the land.  Keep warm, share a good book or more with your loves and spice.  Make time for togetherness and sharing your thanks for each other.  Celebrate your joy and love too.  I know we will be here at the Spice Homestead.

Until next week, 

Solara 

TYBURN AND RACHEL's SAGA CONTINUES

Tyburn sprinted down the hall following Rachel.  Two hundred years earlier, he would have let her go sob her eyes out, throw things, and yell.  The old Tyburn was a certified jackass.   One that died a well needed death.  The new Tyburn needed to apologize and console Rachel.

Rachel wouldn’t believe him.  She’d put a good fight.  He didn’t blame her.  The day he decided to change threw everyone off guard.  Change healed him, cleared his head, heart, and ear of his own stubborn mulish defenses.  His father’s parting words as he flamed out on his one thousandth re-birthday struck home.  The sorrow in the old man’s eyes as tear crashed down his cheeks drove home what Tyburn, his siblings, and most of all his mother missed.  No one deserved to be taken for granted, neglected, and misused.  Trust, dignity, and mutual respect combined with love came first.

“Father,” Tyburn whispered as he closed-in on Rachel.  “I don’t why you couldn’t tell us you loved us sooner.”

Rachel stumbled before him.  Tyburn slowed, unsure what to do.  If he rushed to her aid, she’d refuse it.  Her scorn filled words needed release.  He knew her softer tender side hid deep within.  Trust wouldn’t come easily.  Would it come at all?  He didn’t know.  Seeing Rachel huddled on the floor sobbing and shaking tore his heart in two.

He dropped to his knees inches from her.  One tear, then two and more ran down his face.  If losing her meant saving her, he’d do it.  Deep in his heart, a howl formed pushing upward until he could no longer contain the agony and pain.  Tyburn toss back his head, neck arched, with his jaw clenched.  A sound so eerie rolled out of him that he shook, shuddering harder as the volume grew. 

Rachel clapped her hands over her ears.  She sniffled and glanced behind her.  Tyburn’s body arched like a huge English letter C.  His head practically touched the floor.  Every muscle in his body appeared rigid.   His stiffness reminded her of rigamortis.  His mouth hung open growing tighter with each increasing decibel pouring forth.  Patches of gold and orange mottled up and down his exposed skin.  Yellow burst of light sparked off his hair as it swung back and forth.  As his mottled splotches grew in color and hue, Rachel’s eyes widened.  Flames encircled Tyburn, cutting him off from her.

Rachel pushed off the floor, grimacing at the pain careening through her ears.  Crashes filled the hall, glass shattered in the four mirrors lining the hallway.  Large chunks of plaster and heavy metal dropped from the ceiling.  Rachel struggled to make her way around Tyburn, skirting the flames as the floor beneath shook and rolled.  With one last glance, she ran down the hall, back the way she came calling for Carlotta and Hyrum. 

Could she save him?  Was there time?  Once a phoenix’s death wail started, time became a precious commodity.

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Howdy Gang!

Sorry for the late posting.  End of month and overtime claimed most of my week.  Goodness Rachel and Tyburn are having their share of angst.  Are they ready to see and hear each other?  Can their relationship have a HEA?  Pris says keep your fingers crossed  There's more to come.  Join us next week for our Halloween Blog hop.

Enjoy the fall foilage and share a good book or two with your loves and spice.  I know I will be!

Until next week,

Solara

HAPPY REBIRTH DAY

Rachel stood naked as the day she was born high atop a mountain peak far from the place she called home.  She preferred the word nude.  When and why had nudity become shameful?  She would never understand mortals’ obsession with their bodies and genitals.  The creators fashioned everything for a reason.  Functionality and purpose…how divine and sensible.  

Beside her lay a pile of discarded clothing.  In the backpack stashed deep within the petrified tree’s hollow truck, another set awaited her return.  Ten days until she reappeared in her chosen form.  Another slice of time waiting and watching, knowing her guardianship and care gained her more lives and rebirths.  Not all guardians followed theological dictates.  Dictates that humans and other species dreamt up and attempted to use to make logic out of their limited view points of the universe, a universe that more than one creator brought into being.

Rachel glanced down her legs.  Two large tattoos began half up her calves, continuing upward over her buttocks and hips.  Their dull red color mixed with pigments of yellow and gold that throbbed as the sun began its ascent over the horizon.  Pain grabbed her deep within her gut and groin.  Desire weaved its wicked slicing edge along her sensitive nether lips until she tossed back her head and cried out.  Her voice echoed off the surrounding peaks greeting each other until silence regained its threshold. 

 As her gaze rose, her mons and thatch of pubic hair came into view.   At the crown of the trimmed apex, red pulsed along the hairs mixing with her darker auburn remnants.  The huge of golden red spilled out on to her thighs and pelvis gushing upwards ready to drown her in its wake.  Rachel shuddered with each breath.  Her nipples stood out, taut and hard like icicles, yet the heat rolling off them would melt Antarctica and both polar caps.   Transformation was upon her.   Could she withstand the pain and change?

Emotions welled up threatening to overwhelm her.  Another screech like the first and the early morning denizens of the mountain would flee.  This place was hers to nurture and care for during the next ten days while she waited.  Waited for her mate to arise and ravish her as she would him until replete and sated, gorged with renewed energy and purpose cooling began.

Raising her arms, Rachel felt the first beams of scalding heat ripple up them.  The first full beam of sunshine stroked along them reaching all parts of her.  Her eyes locked on the still dim orb rising in front of her.  Human vocals faded as her birth tongue called out.  Slowly, she began turning and vocalizing.  Her song of death became a song of life and rejoicing.  Beams of warmth radiated over her igniting a hunger so strong she almost forgot the ritual needed to ensure she morphed accurately.  Two more rounds and….

A loud screeched rocked the mountain peaks.  Echoes roared off the rocks and dirt rushing down until they sounded like an early morning thunderstorm to the small towns and homes dotting the valley below.  High above them, a bright flash appeared as the sun fully rose over the horizon.

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Happy Weekend Gang!!

Wow Rachel is turning out to be more than anyone expected.  Most of all Gil and the citizens of Talbot's Peak.  My muse Pris indicates there is more to Rachel's story to come.  Her rebirth day story isn't complete yet.  Stay turned for another episode next week.  

August ends today.  Fall and cooler weather arrive soon.  Enjoy the waning days of summer.  As you do, remember to share a good book or two with your spice and loves,  I will be!

 Smiles,

Solara