thequeenofcreole

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 12 — Wake Me Up 》|

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[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 11 — Deeper the Wounded, Deeper the Roots: Part 2 》|

|I inhale sharply. Where there was once the sensation of drowning, I now find myself in no pain whatsoever. But, the setting I |do| find myself in, is more than unsettling. Another white room. As I look ahead, I see…. nothing. Again. Fuck. I’m praying silently to every one of my ancestors that I haven’t trapped myself in yet another endless purgatory that I can’t find myself out of. But this place feels different. In the plane between my realm and that of Talia and the dangers that lurk with her, I found myself devoid of…. anything. Time. Hope. Possibilities. But, as I look down at myself, I’m dressed in a lace white dress that hugs every curve that my children gave me. As I look down at my hands, I see the same white lace along the brown skin of my hands all the way up to my elbows. My lace-gloved hands run smoothly down the front of the dress where roped and beaded accents give shape. This isn’t purgatory. This is more like…. a crossroad. A path between realms rather than a black hole in the middle of our infinite universe. 

I’m barefoot. 10 painted white toes peek from the thin fabric of my lace dress and as I breathe in, I feel the hopelessness I felt before is slowly diminishing. My eyes scan the room for any sign of Naël but, as promised, he isn’t here. I’m alone. I observe two large white doors behind me, the room and its subtle details slowly beginning to manifest. The white doors are surrounded by white pillars on either side, making the space larger and more beautiful. It’s almost something out of a Roman temple to the goddess Athena. On the ceiling, murals of African rituals worshiping their deities and offering their sacrifices, both living, dead and inanimate, are beautifully drawn. Waist beads and dashiki skirts accent the beautiful dark brown skin dancing around roaring fires. Artistry at its finest. 

Suddenly, I’m pulled from my silent appreciation by the sound of the large white doors opening. Soft, ethereal music plays from behind them as six men emerge carrying what looks like an ornate, open top palanquin. It, too, is white but it’s adorned by beautiful purple and white flowers. The men are silent as they approach me. I’m cautious, but I can hear Naël’s voice in my head.

“Don’t be afraid. You won’t know what to do until you are in the realm. Follow your instincts. They have led you this far. Trust them. You’re stronger than you think.”

Suddenly, I’m reminded of the possibility that, beyond this point…. if I’m strong, I might see Rafael. A first glimpse of home. The thought makes my heart thud hard in my chest, but my mind stays focused. The men place the palanquin down and I watch as the two in the front move to approach me. One moves to grab a white bowl from atop the bed of flowers while the other moves behind me to move my hair away from my shoulders. The ethereal music calms me as the man with the bowl slowly approaches me. I get the feeling that they know why I’m here, but none of them make eye contact. Either their eyes are forward or they are looking down at the ground. I wonder how many have passed through here this way. 

The man with the bowl looks up at me, finally, and with the bowl in his grasp, he bows slowly to me. It takes me back for a moment. Because this isn’t Talia’s realm. Is this normal? Or is he bowing... to me? After a moment, he picks up what looks like a paintbrush from the bowl and I can see now that there is white paint filling it. I close my eyes as he draws one cool, smooth line just below my nose all the way to either earlobe. It takes some time, but he fills in the space below, painting my caramel brown skin white until he reaches the collared necklace cuffed around my throat. 

When he’s done, the men in front of me take a knee next to where the palanquin lays and the two men next to me move to join them. I follow my instincts and carefully pad closer to where they rest. 

“Don’t be afraid, chea. Follow ya instincts.”

It’s Naël’s words I hear, but in Ra’s voice. He sounds so close. It gives me the strength I need to carefully step onto the bed of flowers and lay down until my body perfectly fills the space. The scent of lavender and fresh rain surrounds me and I close my eyes to allow the calming sensation to wash over me and let them lead me where I need to go.

This isn’t magic I’m familiar with. Even if Naël’s magic was born from something similar to mine, I’m out of my element. What if I’m taken somewhere else completely? Somewhere not even Naël can help me escape. I do my best to steady my nerves. Keep my focus on where I am now. 

It isn’t but a minute later that I hear the sound of crackling wood and feel the subtle heat of a fire. I want to look up and see where they’re taking me, but I can’t. I feel frozen. It triggers memories of…. that night. That Aege. I can feel the voice inside my head panicking. Begging to be released. To run. I try to struggle against my invisible bonds, but I involuntarily stay in place as the heat that fills the atmosphere around me. I manage to arch upward and look up toward the direction they’re taking me and I see blue flames waiting. Burning. Beckoning me. I want to scream loudly, hoping that if my physical form is still in Naël’s care, he may be able to hear me. To save me. Once again. But I’m too late. The men slowly lower the palanquin down into the hot, burning fire and I feel my skin set ablaze. I scream. I beg. I try to kick myself free, but I’m fully restrained. The once beautiful flowers that surround me wilt and burn as my skin slowly cracks and disintegrates. I’m…. lost. My mind…. Cracks. I can’t…. take any more. 

“Don’t ya dare give up.” I hear a familiar voice ring through my head. It makes the pain, the fear and the agony away. “Ya strong’a than ya think, baby.” Again, Naël’s words, but the voice…. Lex. It saddens me to think that I barely remember the last thing he said to me. Hearing his voice, now, is a reminder that I have |so| much left to fight for. To push for. That dull fire in my chest that I haven’t been able to access since that…. night. I don’t know how, but I can almost feel the flames of my magic wrapping around my soul like an impenetrable sheath of protection. The once dead fire in my chest blooms. My body, engulfed in the hot, blue flames, slowly starts to mend. Scarred and burned skin slowly heals, pulling itself all back together as my body slowly rises from my laid down position. The pain dulls down to nothing as my body levitates. I close my eyes, the slow tingle of my power spreading through my veins making me clench my fists.

[thequeenofcreole]

happy pride month!

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 11 — Deeper the Wounded, Deeper the Roots: Part 1 》|

I slowly step inside the empty, desolate home that once, maybe in another life at this point, housed so many beautiful memories. For me, for my family. I felt the power from a mile away once upon a time. Now? Nothing. I look around at the empty space that I once felt was a place I could call home. A place where a part of my soul lived… lives. Sometimes I forget that I’m the one that has left them, not the other way around. They mourn me, but they’re alive. They’re still there. 

The cold, cracked walls moan around us with what seems like the weight of the world on its back. Slowly, I move further into the house, my eyes wandering to where the kitchen once was. I can see Ra and Kai making their famous peanut brittle, smiles adorning both of their faces. I wonder if they’re here right now. In my world. It’s hard to imagine them here, in this place. The warmth of their souls are no match for this frigid world. At least, not my baby Blue. I try to picture the twins as being just as bright and full of life as Kai, radiant and happy. Although, I know she must be feeling my absence from her. I know I feel it every day that I linger in this godforsaken place. And that’s exactly what this place is… forsaken. Cursed. 

I feel the anger rise in me, my fists tightening as I breathe deeply. I don’t notice, until Nael comes back to me from wherever he ventured ahead of me to, that I’ve been stopped. Marveling at the contrast between my world and this one. Dread slowly finds its way to my mind and I struggle to come out of it. I feel like my body is frozen. Like if I move any further into this altered construct of my reality, that it will become |too| real. Too real for me to handle. 

“I cain’t…” 

My voice cracks under the pressure of the raw sincerity behind my words. I can’t move. My body feels frozen in place. Like I’m frozen in time and space. And, maybe in some way, I am. Nael approaches me, stepping close until I can feel the warmth radiating from him. For a moment, I feel… something. Something familiar but still, somehow, unknown radiates through me and, as Nael gently grips either side of my arms, his eyes gaze into mine.

“You can. You must. If you want to find a way back to them, you must.” 

It’s the thing that I didn’t know I needed. The thing that has kept me alive and going through all this mess and turmoil I’ve experienced in my short time here in this realm. It’s hope. Hope that maybe I can get back. Not the same way I came, but a different path entirely. His words steel me and I feel the lump that was once forming in my throat, threatening to betray my every insecurity, slowly dissipate. 

Nodding at Nael, I follow him to where he came from, and to the master bathroom where I see he’s set up an entire ritual. Candles, oils, herbs, and a drawing on the floor that I’ve never seen before. It’s an intricate symbol and right in its center is the bathtub, filled with water. I’m cautious. More so because this is magic that I’ve never seen before and I’m left defenseless while putting my trust in Nael. By this point, he has begun to prove to me that he means me no harm but, in this place, I can’t bring myself to trust wholeheartedly that his only motive in this is to help me. Especially because he gains nothing from helping me. 

Well, he hopes to gain his Queen. But I’m not |her|.

“What’s all’is? It’s lookin’ like ya tryna send me ta the shadow realm.”

I jest, hoping that my relaxed demeanor will aid in pulling the truth from him.

“I wouldn’t use |those| words, specifically. But… close.”

He gives me an easy grin and walks around the clawfoot bathtub, the paint chipping in every imaginable crevice and the legs rusted from the moist air. When he speaks again, his voice is soft, as if he’s trying to soothe me into this process rather than thrusting it upon me.

“The water is meant to serve as a medium between worlds. Since you can no longer feel your magic within you, we must provoke it. Magical beings tend to have fail safe systems within them where their magic hides to either protect itself or to protect its vessel. In this case, I believe it to be the latter.”

I can feel his eyes surveying my reaction with every word he speaks. And, I have to admit, I’m terrified. He uses the word provoke like my magic is to be unwillingly, for lack of a better term, pulled from me. Like my magic is burrowed so deep inside of me that only a threat to my wellbeing is what will pull it out of hiding. 

“So, I gotta get in there. Then what?”

“Then, we’ll see. There is no telling what will need to be done for this to work. However, this is where we start. If this works, the spell cast will present a physical manifestation of your consciousness. Where it puts you, is up to you.” 

|I breathe deeply as I keep my eyes on the bathtub in front of me. The way he tells it, this is my only option to reach my family on the other side. So, even if it kills me, there’s no real choice here. My mind struggles to wrap around the intricacies of the magic he’s performing here, but I trust that the sincerity in his voice is genuine. Slowly, I kick both of my shoes off and toss them aside before I can think too hard and convince myself that I don’t need to do this.

For the first time in a long time, I’m out of my depth here. 

I walk toward the tub and carefully step in. Surprisingly, the water is warm and I look up at Nael in silent thanks. There’s no way any water that came from this house is heated in any way. It’s just one more way he’s shown that my comfort is on his mind. Gripping the sides of the tub, I slowly lower myself into the water, my body shaking from fear both known and unknown. I know this could kill me. That’s the simplest part of this entire thing. But what I |don’t| know, is what will happen if this works. 

Nael moves next to me and kneels on one knee next to the tub. Looking up at him, I’m breathing deeply and his gaze silently tells me that he will do everything he can to make sure I make it out alive. Whether it be in this world or my own. 

“Take a deep breath, Dereon.” 

There’s no point in stalling. I nod in his direction and breathe deeply, leaning back until every inch of my body is submerged in the warm water. Nael reaches forward and presses his hand against my chest, slowly pushing me down until my back is pressed against the bottom of the cold ceramic. 

Nothing… Nothing happens at all. The water is still and quiet other than the soft movements my body makes just beneath the surface. I let out a bubble of air every now and then until I feel my body slowly starting to panic from lack of oxygen. It’s not gonna fucking work. Fuck. I push against Nael’s hand, signaling that it’s time for a break. I didn’t even know I could hold my breath for this long to begin with, but he doesn’t budge. Looking up at him through the clear water, I grip his wrist with one of mine and attempt to push his arm away. But he won’t budge. 

What is he doing?! He’s supposed to be |preventing| my demise, not orchestrating it. My grip on his arm tightens and I lift my other arm from the water in an attempt to reach his face. Maybe I can hit him or scratch him and it will make him release me. But I can’t reach him. I open my mouth, instinctually, to scream in hopes that someone will hear me. But, instead, I feel my lungs burn as they slowly start to fill with water. 

The pain is excruciating. Mind numbing. My body thrashes in the water, refusing to give up yet. But I’m fighting an uphill battle. I can’t find anything to grab a hold of to get a better position. Not the edge of the tub, not even Nael’s arm holding me down. My nails scratch at his skin, but to no avail. 

Then, like a switch… Darkness. That which is all too familiar to me. Slow, deep darkness.

[thequeenofcreole]

"But why yo' ass so dope?"

Why, thank ya, strang’a. I always aim ta please.

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 10 — The Road Less Traveled: Part 2 》|

We make our way out of the house and onto two horses that lay in wait for us. I rode horses as a child, so I don’t need any help mounting mine. And, as I look over at Naël, I see the hint of an impressed glance.

“I know some thangs.”

I smile at him. Genuinely. And he returns my smile. The longer I spend with him, the more comfortable I become. Especially now with my magic being dormant and him being the only semblance of protection I have right now. With everything I’ve been through this far, I’m still skeptical of the comfort. But for that same reason, I find myself gravitating toward his comfort. Everywhere else I look, all I feel is the cold sting of deception and nothing has ever felt |so| cold.

As we ride, he follows closely behind. I know where we’re headed and, as I follow along the road I would usually travel on in my car, I find the road reclaimed by nature. Grass covers the once black asfalt and I’m wondering if this, too, is a result of the magical beings’ war against one another. In some ways, it could be seen as a positive. Let the forces that once killed all that is natural in this world kill one another so that the earth can heal. But, on the darker side, how many beings have died to make this a reality? How many lives lost?

It’s easy to think of everyone on this plane as deserving with all the wrongdoing I’ve witnessed this far, but even with darkness shrouding my consciousness, I sympathize. For the VooDoo covens who must have been here before all of this happened. For the witches who fight for their existence to mean more than just a battle of strong versus stronger. How many different species were alive on this plane that are now never to be seen or remembered again? As I think, my eyes avert to Naël’s as he strides next to me.

“What happened ta the VooDoo covens? I mean…. if this a similar version of the New Orleans’a my time, how come we ain’t come ‘cross none of |my| kind yet?”

As if he knew what I was going to ask, his eyes stay forward on the stretch of road ahead. My own expression becomes defensive. Of what? I don’t know. But the way his muscles tense and relax and the vibrations of his perturbed energy I receive make me think, just like before, that there’s something he’s not telling me. It takes him a moment. Maybe to figure out what to say to me or maybe what not to say. When he finally does speak, his voice is deep and somewhat stern.

“That is something I cannot speak on. But I know someone that can.”

He finally looks over at me, his gaze asking or almost begging me not to push any further. And, as a gesture of good faith, I don’t. For now. Instead, I look ahead just as he had before.

“Not anoth’a Seer, I hope. I ain’t gon’ be too receptive to anoth’a trap. ‘Specially since my magic ain’t bein’ cooperative.”

Even I can hear the renewed optimism in my voice. Part of me thinks it’s because we are closer to home than I have been since I got here.

“He is not a Seer. But he is wiser than any Seer I’ve ever met.”

I don’t look over at him as he speaks. I don’t even ask any more questions about who this mystery man is. I don’t want to become any more attached to this plane than I have to and if this plan works, I could be on my way to getting back home. Just as the thought crosses my mind, I see the makings of a house in the distance. The sight makes my heart pound hard in my chest and I gently kick my horse's side, signaling her to run toward our destination.

The hundred feet or so that it takes us to reach the house feels like a hundred years.

But, when we finally |do| reach it, where once I felt the aching of my quickened heartbeat, I now feel the sting of pain. The beautiful house where Ra lives in my plane is…. Abandoned. In every sense of the word.

The house I’m seeing now looks nothing

like Ra’s house in my world. It’s a shell of a home that’s been abandoned for years or maybe even decades. It makes the soft glint of hope I felt slowly turn to sadness at the realization that this may or may not work. That the creatures of this world may have driven out any form of magic that didn’t serve a purpose to their own personal cause. It makes me wonder if the laws work the same here and if this trip was for nothing at all.

“Come.” Naël gestures for us to push on and I gesture for my horse to do just that. She moves forward until we’re close enough to dismount and, when I do, I stand still as I look up at the house. I concentrate hard, trying to feel any semblance of energy whether it be living or dead.

But I feel… nothing.

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 9 — The Road Less Traveled: Part 1 》|

The warmth of hope spreads through my chest and I softly bite my lip as I try to keep my emotions at bay. If this works, whether I’m able to be there physically or just as a distant consciousness, I will be able to see a part of myself that’s been missing. My family. I’ll worry about how to get a message across when I get there. For now, I’m just grateful that I have a passage to the other side. With new, clean clothes in hand that Naël manifested with his magic, he leads me to his room. It’s a wide open space and a beautiful setup.  It doesn’t have a door and the walls are all windows looking out at the wooded area surrounding the house.

“Don’t worry. I have precautions.”

I can sense a little humor in his voice, probably in response to the way that I look around warily at the openness to the outside. With a wave of his hand, a field of magic blocks the doorway and all of the windows black out.

“Please, Miss Devereaux. Take the time you need to ready yourself. You will need all the strength you can find within yourself for this journey you’re about to embark on.” His voice is soft and reassuring. Like he knows that I need my spirits lifted. It wouldn’t be hard to tell. Especially seeing as though he bore witness to my physical pulverization. I’m sure he was the one who healed me and saw that my broken body showed no |physical| signs of my attack. I don’t know what kind of magic he holds, but I do know that I’m grateful. To him.

“It’s Deréon. Ya can call me D if ya’d like.” My voice, too, is kind as I speak and his lips pull into a smile as he bows his head.

“If you need anything, I’m but a call away. Deréon.”

I nod at him and bring myself to smile at him as he walks through the field of magic blocking the door. When he does, the field glows a soft gold hue and I can tell that the whatever magic that shields the doorway has locked in place.

Alone. Again. The last time I was alone in this plane, I felt nothing but emptiness and the need to survive. I felt lost. Since that short time ago, I feel as though I’ve been through twice as much turmoil as I’ve ever experienced. But now, as I walk to the bathroom of this strangers bedroom, I feel what could be mistaken for safety. A feeling I haven’t felt since before I gave birth to my twins. The thought pulls at my heart and I have to take a deep breath to steady myself.

This is only the second time that I’ve been alone on this plane. Alone to contemplate. To think. To create a plan. To fall apart and grieve the loss I feel in my heart. Not only for my family, but for myself. Something terrible happened to me. The thoughts of never gaining my strength back and the raw vulnerability I feel like I exude right now makes me uneasy. So much so that, deep in my mind, I feel myself |needing| this protector of mine. Naël. How hopeless am I that I’m blindly relying on a stranger to protect me? |Me.|

As I walk into the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. I should be covered in bruises with the way that Aege handled me. The way his hands, cold as ice, gripped my throat and squeezed until I couldn’t breathe. The way his blade cut through my magic like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. It makes bile rise in my throat and, before I can comprehend what I’m doing, I run to the toilet and throw myself onto my knees in front of it. My nerves make me heave softly and I let loose all of my anxiousness into the porcelain bowl. My pain. My fear. Until I have nothing left to give.

My body shakes as I try to compose myself, my hands gripping the edge of the porcelain as tight as I can. I feel like I’ll be sick again, but my body won’t allow it. After a moment of attempting to compose myself, I manage to pull myself off the floor from my knees and walk to the sink to rinse my mouth with water. I have no idea what’s ahead of me. All I know is that I have to get out of here. But according to Naël, my magic is what binds me here and only my magic can break the bond. How can I do that if I can’t feel my magic? If it doesn’t exist anymore?

I look down at my hands, which once held so much power and promise and I sigh. I’ve never had to |try| to use my magic. It’s always been so easy for me to summon. Especially with my powers having expanded to the level they are now…. That they |were|. So, how do I begin to try and bring it back? How do I heal my consciousness enough to be able to summon my magic? I’m at a loss. But even if it’s just my consciousness that is able to travel back home, hopefully I can find some hope. Something that will help my magic return and break this curse set upon me.

With my mind heavy and my heart even heavier, I gather myself enough to start the shower. Naël is right. I’ll need all the strength I can gather. I need to at least |try| and clear my mind. Starting with the cleansing of my body. When I finally manage to peel my clothes off and step into the scalding hot water, I’m finally able to wash my hair and try to achieve the closest thing to relaxation I can get. My entire body and mind feels like it’s gone through the ringer and I have been in desperate need of cleansing. Not just my body, but my soul. The hot steam that surrounds me feels like what I’ve been missing to fully relax. Not because the steam itself brings me that missing piece, but the fact that I’m able to pretend that I’m not in a place where every living being but one would rather see me burn at the stake for their own gain than let me go back to my family. As much as I hate to admit it, those witches will be looking for me again. As much as I want to believe that they would just forget about me since I’m not the Queen they seek, I know that Talia has paid a price for me that even her Wiccan ancestors wouldn’t be able to overlook. She has nothing left to lose. One hundred souls for one is a steep price to pay to be wrong. She will want to prove that she hasn’t damned herself for nothing. That’s why I have to do this. No matter what the cost.

I get dressed in the fresh pair of jeans and a white tank top that Naël had manifested for me and, since I don’t have the tools to style my hair, I decide to braid it instead. I never knew how calming it could be, in the face of turmoil, to do something as simple as braid my hair. But I imagine myself in my own home, teaching my baby girl Blue how to braid her hair all on her own. And I imagine her telling my other baby girl every single step even though she can’t understand a word she says.

I hope that one day it will be more than just a fantasy. That I will actually be able to show my baby girl how to braid her own hair. Or that I’ll be able to do it myself. The longer I stay here, the more distant that reality becomes. I don’t know how long I’ve been here and how time here moves in relation to my own realm. It both weakens and strengthens my resolve. At times, one always overpowers the other. Up until this point, it’s strengthened me knowing that I will find a way back to them. But my dream to escape this place feels like it’s slowly slipping from my grasp.

When I’m finally ready to face reality again, I walk through the force field at the open doorway and look back at it as it dissolves in response to my passage. I can feel that it’s a complex spell and I find myself trying to break down the properties of it out of sheer curiosity before I make my way down the long hallway that leads to the living room. I don’t see Naël, but the bowl of chicken and rice on the table makes me take a second glance. My stomach shifts in protest and I inhale deeply before padding over to the table where it sits.

I don’t remember when I ate last and I need my strength if I’m going to continue. With the way Naël is talking, this transference will more than likely be one of the hardest I’ve ever gone through. As I take the bowl and sit down, I eat quickly. Mostly because I feel like now that my body has had a moment to slow down, I feel like I’m starving. But also because my nerves are on high alert. I’m praying to all the powers that be that this will work.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by Naël walking into the living space and, as I look at him, he looks a bit apprehensive. My brows furrow in response and I don’t even ask before he begins to speak.

“I’ve looked over the ritual we’re going to be working with. I’ve made a few changes and I think it will work.”

His words are positive, so my head tilts softly at the still ever present look on his features.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

He inhales deeply and softly presses his palms together in front of him as he steps closer to me.

“You will have to visit the in between. Time does not exist there. There will be a trial that you must complete. Each trial is unique to the traveler. You could be there for what feels like minutes…. or what feels like years.”

I pause for a moment, understanding his concern. He’s saying that there may be a time where I’m in there and it feels hopeless. Like I’ll never be able to leave. Like when I first came here. I nod slowly, my tone firm and confident as I speak.

“That’s how it was wit’ me comin’ here in the first place. I’m ready fa that.”

His expression softens and he nods firmly before I  look back at the open book that lays on the countertop in the kitchen. As I look at it, I can hear soft whispers in my mind. I know Naël is speaking, but his voice is just a hum in the background as the whispering slowly gets louder. It makes my features twitch softly as the soft sensation of heat radiates in my chest. Like my magic is trying to ignite. I softly rub where I felt the fleeting heat and, when Naël turns back to me, his brows furrow in concern. When my eyes shift from the book and back to him, the whispering suddenly stops and so does the heat in my chest. The concern on his face as he steps closer to me makes me shake my head in response.

“I’m aight. I jus’.... thought I felt….”

I pause, not really sure if what I mean makes sense. So, I elect to just smile and shake my head.

“I’m aight. Ya ready to get goin’?”

He inhales deeply and I can tell that he’s apprehensive, but he’s understanding. If he’s right about him being my protector for whatever reason, it must be confusing not knowing |who| you’re protecting. This man knows nothing of |who| I am. He thinks he knows |what| I am and the power I hold. But he doesn’t know my husband. He doesn’t know my children. My sister. Nobody. In this moment, I find myself in a completely different situation than the one I came here in. Where once I was a prisoner, I have an ally. Finally.  And I want to preserve that. As much as I possibly can.

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 8 - Magic Misplaced 》|

I haven’t slept in…. the ancestors only know how long. Not |really|. At least not since I showed up in limbo. And I don’t even know how long I was there for. It felt like…. years. The relaxation that my body feels pulls me to a somewhat euphoric state. A state where I can dream. Freely. I can almost smell Lex’s famous waffles, grits and bacon. I can almost hear Kai come into the bedroom and jump up into the bed to wake me. I can almost hear the soft coos of my babies as Lex brings them in to greet me as I sleep. They call to me. They need me.

But when I finally wake, everything hits me at once. Like I’ve fallen and hit the ground at a hundred miles per hour. They aren’t here. They don’t exist here. Every single detail about what happened shocks me out of my sleep. I can still feel …. that things cold hands on my skin, trying to take what shouldn’t be |taken|. I could feel the rage in his touch. A feeling I’ve never felt before. The way his skin, impenetrable to my human touch, wouldn’t falter in his assault. The inferno of pain that radiated through me from his blade, breaking not only my magic, but almost breaking |me|. It makes me realize how…. unprepared I am for this world. How unknown everything is. How dangerous.

My eyes open quickly, I find myself lost yet again. I search for a memory of getting here. Of who brought me. I sit up quickly to look around, a quiet gasp leaving my lips. I'm in what looks like a…. modernized cabin. Unfamiliar but somehow warm. Inviting.

As I sit up, I’m expecting the pain from being stabbed to keep me from going too far, but I feel nothing. Not even the soreness of having been broken. In every sense of the word. At least, on the outside. My insides…. I can’t describe it.

My eyes immediately fall to where there should be an injury, but there isn’t one. Nothing. I look down at myself and notice that my ripped dress is replaced by a white, oversized t-shirt and I feel my eyes burn with rage. A rage I don’t know if I can control. I’m here in this plane for reasons that make no sense to me. Witches that can’t control their own fate bring who they consider to hold the magic of a God to help them. Not only that, but they cage her. They’re lucky I’m not who they say I am. A part of me wishes that I was so that I could exact the rage I feel. For being here. For not even being able to name my children. For this fucking nightmare I’m living through.

My eyes search the room for any sign of danger. I try my best to summon my magic to help show the way, but…. I can’t feel it. I press my hand softly to my chest, hoping that some stimulation of any kind will reignite my fire, but I feel nothing. That slow burn in my chest is dormant. It makes me feel…. empty. Hopeless. Defenseless. Unprotected. I’m suddenly reminded of the stranger that brought me here. Where is he? Why did he bring me here? Why am I not dead? And just as if he’s been summoned, he comes around the corner of a somewhat open concept kitchen and I immediately move to stand up. I don’t show any indication that I can’t feel my magic. Although I’m sure that if he is made from magic, he can sense that I have no power here. Nevertheless, I stand tall, shoulders back, my eyes on his now golden ones.

“Who are you?”

In his hands, he has a bowl of what looks like rice and chicken and a glass of what looks like water. My stomach immediately starts to protest, begging me to take the food. I don’t remember when’s the last time I ate. But, rather than succumb to my need, I steel myself instead.

“My name is Naël de Claremont. I am no danger to you.”

His golden eyes keep with mine. It makes my heart quicken like before and, as strong as I want to be, I feel my resolve wavering under his gaze. Something I haven’t felt since…. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Ya saved my life. Why?”

His eyes fall to the ground and a soft huff of an unamused laugh leaves his lips. He leans down and places the bowl and the glass on the table in front of the couch which I was just laying on and I watch him. Carefully. I’m waiting for any sudden movements or unexpected attacks. Inwardly, I’m begging my magic to return to me.

“Are you asking me why I did not let you die in the streets?” He looks at me and I feel a chill run up my spine slowly. It’s not my magic or his. It’s fear. Trauma. Not from anything he’s inflicted upon me, but from what he saved me from. How, if not for him, the argument of my power would be inane. But my resolve remains solid as I avert my eyes elsewhere.

“You would be the first one I met here that ain’t tryna eith’a use me or kill me. So, it ain’t so far fetched of a question.” I can’t help the soft tone of venom in my voice. A hit dog will holler. And I’ve been hit more times since I’ve been here than I ever have.

Naël moves to close the space between us and, at first, my body tenses. But his hands raise in surrender and his eyes stay on mine. Never faltering. “You can sense that I will not hurt you. I know this to be true without even feeling your magic.” My brows furrow at his words, but his body language tells me that he means no harm. That much is true. So I allow the distance to be closed between us. As if I have a choice with my magic laying dormant. His eyes search mine for…. Something. I have no idea what, but as he speaks, I watch his eyes roam my features.

“Do you know who you are?”

His question takes me back and I swallow thickly before looking away from him. If I couldn’t even fend off an attack like the one that just happened, how could I be |anything| at

« at all? Where once I

was confident about my abilities, I find myself doubting. Myself. My magic. My power. “I’m nobody.” My voice is soft and, for the first time since I arrived here, I let my vulnerability be shown to somebody other than myself as I close my eyes tight. I try to hold it back. I haven’t broken since I got here. At least visibly so. Never to another being. But an unrelenting tear slowly rolls down my cheek as I inhale deeply.

His expression is soft as he looks at me and he slowly reaches to place his hands on either side of my arms. It’s a gesture I didn’t know that I needed to feel safe. To feel literally anything other than constant fear and anger. It’s a gesture of good faith and comfort. Maybe a tinge of pity, but I don’t care. He saved my life. I feel my body relax beneath his touch almost to the point of letting my inhibitions go completely and letting myself break down. But I can’t. Not here. Not now.

“You do not know how wrong you are. You are everything, Miss Devereaux. You are the beginning. You are the end.”

His words, no matter how calming, confuse me. As much as I want to believe that he can protect me, if he’s sipping the same kool-aid as everyone else, how could he? He would have his own reasons to do so which means he wouldn’t be protecting |me|. He would be coveting an idea of who he |thinks| me to be.

“Who do |you| think I am, then?”

I want to hear him say it. So that I know for sure whether this man can protect me or if he’s inclined to protect an idea of me that can’t exist. Not now, not ever.

“It is not my place to say. I am merely…. a companion. A protector. Whatever you need me to be.” His voice remains soft and comforting and every instinct in my body is pulling to believe him. But the shadow of doubt still lays on my mind. Heavily. I can’t feel my magic. It can’t guide me to the right path as it has been. I’m unprotected without him. At least right now I am.

“An’ |what| exactly are you? If I may ask.”

He pauses for a moment, hesitation in his demeanor as he inhales deeply and looks away from me. I don’t know what he’s holding back, I just know that I don’t need my magic to tell me that there’s |something| he’s not telling me.

“My kind are one of the oldest beings to be born. We were created with the Aeges as somewhat of a balance of power. The Aeges were born for a purpose and my kind were made to make sure that purpose wasn’t used against the powers that be. My kind, just like the Aeges, are limited now. There are not many of us left. So, we tend to keep to ourselves.”

Made to protect the powers that be. I have no idea how the laws of physics and reality work in this realm, so it doesn’t make much sense as he says it. So he’s a protector of magical beings? I don’t understand. If they keep to themselves, then why save me? What makes me different from any other woman other than the fantasy that he and every witch in this town have that I’m some Creole Queen?

“So, ya like a protector by trade?” My voice is soft as I speak, but even I can hear the slight nervousness in my tone. “Do oth’a beings hire you fa protection? ‘Cause I cain’t pay ya nothin’. I’ont e’en belong here.”

He inhales sharply, seemingly preparing for what to say next. I wait. Patiently. Although my heart is beating in my chest like a ceremonial drum in anticipation. Anticipation of what? I don’t know. I just know that since I’ve been here, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. This situation is no different.

“No, I’m not for hire. My kind bonds to a very specific magical signature. That which created magic itself. The magical archetypes. And I’ve found myself here. Protecting you, Miss Devereaux.”

My brows furrow and I feel my stomach drop. What he’s saying doesn’t make much sense to me. It’s like he’s telling me that he’s not |a| protector, he’s |my| protector. I breathe out a soft, unamused laugh and shake my head as I look away from him for a moment. This is a joke. Not a joke. A ploy. He’s probably working with those useless fucking witches to manipulate me into conceding. Into believing whatever they want me to believe.

“Bullshit.”

My words mean to call him out and put the idea down, but his gaze on mine doesn’t waver. I stare back, letting my intuition guide me since my magic can’t. Letting my instincts tell me whether to believe if what he says is true or not. I can’t. I can’t grasp it. Not after what happened. The helplessness I felt. The desperation. I couldn’t even protect myself and now, it seems as though my magic has gone completely.

I won’t pretend as if I’m not overwhelmed by everything happening. And, as I sit down, I run my fingers over my wild curls. My thoughts are all over the place. Shifting between what’s real, what’s not real, and whether I will ever trike be free of this place. Of this curse of everyone believing that I’m someone of importance when I’m not.

“I need to get outta here. I don’t care who y’all think I am. I have a family. I’m a moth’a who ain’t seen my children since I gave birth ta them. I’ont e’en know how long it’s been….”

My voice trembles as I speak and, when I look up at him again, tears wet my cheeks and I feel like I’m barely holding back the flood gates. His eyes meet mine and I can see that they’re soft. He feels my pain although he couldn’t possibly understand it.

“As I said before, I’m bound to you. If you want to find a way out of this plane, you need only tell me how I can help and I will help you.”

I have to admit that the gesture, no matter how much information he’s given, makes me think. I don’t know what kind of magic he holds, but maybe he can help me escape this place. For good. I think inwardly, calculating any scenario which would require little to no magic at all since I can’t seem to find my own. Where can I go that will be able to link this reality with the one I come from? From what I’ve seen thus far, everything about this world, albeit the magic itself and the beings that possess this realm, are parallels of my home. The Quarter is still the Quarter here as it is there although not in the same condition. And what I’ve learned of |gateways| between realms, they don’t change. They never change no matter which plane you find yourself in. And then…. like the missing piece to a puzzle, it clicks. Is it really that simple?

“There’s a house. Away from the city near Cajun country. Can ya take me there?”

Naël looks at me warily at first. But I’m sure it’s the sincere hope that I’m sure is expressed on my features that makes him nod his head in agreement.

“What do ya know ‘bout gateways between realms an’ how to access them?”

His eyes narrow in thought and, for what seems like the first time, he looks away from me. “The magic I possess can only move your consciousness across planes. It will have to be |your| magic that breaks you free from your curse.”

I clench my jaw softly and inhale deeply when he speaks. How am I supposed to break myself out of this realm if I don’t have any magic to speak of right now?

“My magic…. I cain’t feel it. Not aft’a what happened….”

I look down at the floor and try my best to swallow back the lump forming in my throat. Again, I’m reminded of how defenseless I am. How unprotected.

“Magic in itself stems from the soul. The trauma you endured…. That will have paid a price on your consciousness. You will find your magic again.”

He sounds so sure of himself as he speaks and, for a moment, I find myself believing him. Maybe a part of me is fighting with myself because my magic is what brought me here. It’s what put me in this position in the first place. Do I even want it back?

“There is a ritual that aided the Aeges in moving between planes. But…. I have to warn you. It’s not an easy journey to make.”

I don’t even hesitate as I respond, my body tensing at the idea of |not| making the journey. In my mind, I don’t have a choice. And I would die a thousand times to make it work. No matter how hard it is.

“I’ont care how hard it is. I’ll make it.”

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 7 - 》|

“You…. You are delectable. I haven’t smelt your kind in quite some time, mon cherie.” He hisses his words out in a French accent and I slowly back away from him, suddenly hyper-aware of the protection spell that still clings to me like an invisible second skin.

“I thought your kind were all gone. Dead and gone. All except the one.” He inches closer to me. Slowly. And I feel the fire building in my chest, begging to be released. This time, I won’t hold back. Not with this type of threat. I can’t watch the freedom I’ve gained slip away. I can’t.

Everything happens so fast. His hand grips my wrist tightly and my protection spell burns his hand, causing a deep, sharp shriek to leave his lips. A sound so inhuman and loud that it physically hurts. “Fucking bitch!” His other hand grips my throat tightly and presses me back against the brick wall, this time he allows the burn from my spell to slowly melt his skin, taking in the pain with a clenched jaw and bated breath. He reaches in his coat jacket and takes out what looks like a ceremonial dagger. It’s ornate and has an inscription carved into it that I can’t read. It doesn’t look like Latin or any other language I’ve seen before. My eyes meet his now black eyes and before I can protest or fight back, he holds it up and plunges the knife into my side. The knife slices through the protective shield like butter, dissolving it completely. And when I feel the singeing pain, I attempt to scream but his hand tightens around my throat before I can get anything out.

“I heard them talking about you. They call you a Queen.” He breathes into my ear as I claw and scratch at his skin. It feels like marble. Impenetrable by human touch. I try as hard as I can to fight back, but I can barely breathe. “Do you taste like one?” He leans in closer to me, his hot breath against my neck making me groan in disgust as his tongue softly flicks out against the shell of my ear. His free hand travels to my thigh, slowly pushing my satin dress up until his cold fingers brush against the trim of my panties at my hip. “Do you feel like one?”

I feel a sudden shift in my magic and my body locks up tight in his grasp. I try my best to kick — to scream for help. To fight back against his domination whether it be by magic or by physical force. But I can’t even move. When I try, I feel an invisible force holding my back against the wall behind me, the apex of this magic stemming from the dagger in my side. What the fuck is this?! The adrenaline coursing through my body doesn’t even allow the pain from the dagger in my side to affect me to the extent it should. His cold, hard lips trail along my ear and I close my eyes tight, a loud but muffled scream of protest leaving my lips as, for a moment, his grip on my throat tightens. He pulls away and releases his hand on my throat to grip my face hard. His fingers press hard into my cheeks, forcing my eyes to open as his focus on mine intently as soft, painful whimpers leave my lips.

“You aren’t the only one with magic, witch.” His words leave his lips as a hiss and his hand gripping my panties jerks back, the fabric ripping from my body as another scream tries to leave my lips. Whatever magic that holds me against the wall keeps me in place as he moves his free hand down to rip the front of my satin dress open, exposing the black lace bra beneath it before he moves to rip that open as well. My body feels cold. Exposed. Abused. Hopeless. My eyes look around for any sign of anybody that could help me, but we’re too far from the club. When he sees me looking, his hand grips the dagger again and twists slightly, the soft scream that catches in my throat signaling the pain I feel. Adrenaline be damned.

This is it. He’s going to kill me. I just got my chance back to see my family. I only just grappled the idea of being with them again only to have my body taken and discarded like a piece of trash. How can I get out of this? Can I even get out of this? He’s clearly working with magic I’m not familiar with and he’s perfected his attempt at harnessing the power. What the fuck do I do?

I close my eyes tight again, my mind forcing images of the people I love. Images of comfort. Survival mode. He moves my thigh up to his hip and I can feel his teeth slowly graze my neck. Sharp. Cold. The fire in my chest lays dormant and no matter how hard I concentrate, I can’t ignite it. I’m running out of time. Out of options. Do I even have any at this point? Or is my only option to try and survive?

I feel his hand slowly move up my inner thigh, threatening the sanctity of my womanhood with every passing moment when, all of a sudden, I feel a spray of warmth against my skin. Like warm water’s been sprayed across me. But then I smell the copper. Blood. Oh my god. Is this spell so powerful that I don’t even feel my own demise? When I open my eyes, I’m expecting to see the Aege with a knife in my stomach or at my neck. But, instead, I see him standing in front of me, his eyes full of confusion as his black iris’ stare into mine.

He steps back. Stumbles is more like it. And I see a long, sharp blade protruding from his chest. In one swift movement, the wielder of the sword presses upward and slices the creature in half right before my eyes. A scream catches in my chest but I hold it in. I’ve shown enough fear tonight and I’m not out of danger yet. I don’t know whether to be thankful or fearful. If I’ve been saved or traded one evil for another.

When I look at my potential savior, I feel my heart clench. His hair is pure white and he towers over me as he approaches. His black eyes sprout black veins beneath them and even if I wanted to run, the dagger in my side prevents me from moving. I’ve already mentally accepted my demise, so I make no hesitation to clench my jaw and stare straight into his eyes. He watches me for a moment, clearly gauging my reaction. Possibly even seeking…. permission?

I can feel the calming heat of his body as he slowly approaches me and looks down at the dagger in my side. His eyes meet mine again. “Brace yourself. This will hurt.” I 

breathe deeply, attempting to prepare myself for the same burning pain I felt when I was stabbed as he grips the dagger tight and swiftly pulls it from my side. I let out a loud groan of pain as I feel my magic slowly return to me. But the pain has my body limp and I almost fall. His arms reach to catch me and, with one arm around my back and the other scooped beneath my bent knees, he picks me up. “I’ve got you.”

I still don’t know if I should feel safe or if this man is just testing my inhibitions to see how far he can push me. One thing I’m certain of is that I feel safer with him than I did with my attacker before him. So, I move my arm around his shoulders and do my best to breathe through the pain. He walks us a short distance and I’m half expecting him to put me in a car. Hell, at this point I’ll do anything to get away from this fucking place. But, instead, we approach an all black horse, the soft neighs it emits sound almost like he’s attempting to communicate with this man. A fucking |horse|. The pain…. It’s almost too much to bear as he lifts me up to sit on the horses back. Even keeping myself upright is a struggle as he pulls himself up into the horse behind me.

My dress is tattered, my chest laid bare for the world to see. And before I can even muster the words to ask, he’s wrapping me up in a shall. For the first time since I came to the god forsaken place, I remember what it feels like to be protected.

We ride through the abandoned quarter and every jump of the horse makes me groan in pain from the pain in my side. The man’s arms around me hold me close to him in an attempt to absorb most of the shock from the ride, but I can feel that my body is getting cold. Too much blood lost. Even my magic is slowly draining. I can’t die here. Not here. I grasp his arm around me as I whimper in pain. My grasp is pleading. Desperate. “Please…. Please don’t leave me…. I can’t die here….” Slowly, but surely, darkness takes me as I go limp in this stranger's grasp.

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 6 - Angels and Demons 》|

I close my eyes for a moment, inhaling the thick air around me. I can’t go in there unprotected or under the protection of these witches. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into and I don’t trust these witches to protect themselves let alone me. I would end up being the one doing the protecting. So, I press my palms together, chanting softly under my breath. My skin tingles with the power I summon. An impenetrable protective barrier unseen to the naked eye. But I can feel it. It curves around my body like a knifes sheath. When I open my eyes, I see that the male witch and Talia are looking at me. I can’t tell if it’s fear I see in their eyes or if it’s anticipation. Either way, I say nothing and let them wonder.

We finally reach the club and I can hear the bass before we even get out of the car. The valet attendant opens the door for Talia and then me and, as I look around the French Quarter, it’s unrecognizable. Where there was once a bustling city, the streets are littered with people of all sorts which is what I’m used to. Some unkempt and others looking like they belong in the 11th ward sipping on cappuccinos. What surprises me is that I can feel that they’re different. All of them. But I have no idea what the hell they are. I’ve never felt the characteristics of the energy that surrounds me. Suddenly I’m glad for my protection spell. The buildings are broken. Desolate. Ruined. It almost brings tears to my eyes. It makes me miss home.

I’m escorted into the club by the male witch, his hand on my lower back making me more uncomfortable than I’d like to admit. I don’t know if it’s an attempt at a gesture of good faith or one of warning but if we weren’t surrounded by beings I can’t identify, his arm would be broken by now. The look I give him as I pull off my decorative sunglasses is all the warning he needs to pull his hand away and take a step back. I can’t have these people getting too comfortable. They fucked up before and I’ll never forget that. I’ll catch them slipping before they ever catch me in a vulnerable situation ever again.

As we walk in, the club is dark. This isn’t the type of club that you would find in |my| city. This place looks straight like something out of a movie. Dark, people dancing in shiny leather and lace. All black for some. All white for others. My eyes search the room, finding a group of beings all dressed in white suits. Their skin is pale and their hair is white. One of them catches my eye and his eyes glow a subtle hint of white. I’ve only ever seen eyes like that once. One of Lex’s friends. I saw his eyes change for just a moment, but it looked exactly like the ones I’m looking into now. The memory brings more questions to my mind than answers.

My eyes shift to another group that’s surrounding a pool table. Dressed all in black suits. The opposite of the group before. They’re all savagely ripping and clawing at something laying on the table and it takes me a minute to realize that it’s a human thrashing and fighting against their assault. I instinctively move toward them but Talia grabs my arm to stop me. The sudden movement causes my protection spell to activate and she hisses as she pulls her hand away. One of them must feel me looking their way because he turns around to look at me. His eyes glow just like the others and he grins at me, his lips bloodied as he licks them slowly. He’s testing me. Measuring my resolve. Seeing if he can scare me. His body turns toward me and out of what seems like nowhere, a full set of black wings slowly span to their full length and a soft hiss leaves his lips. It takes me back because it’s beautifully terrifying. But, somehow, my gaze doesn’t break his as I pass. I can almost hear the loud laugh he emits over the loud music before he turns back to his meal, his wings sheathing back to their original position hidden beneath his clothes.

“They’re Aeges. At least that’s what we call them. They’re different on every plane. Some call them Gods. Some call them Angels. They’re an ancient species. Only we supes can see them in their true form. Humans will die instantly if they ever witness their true forms. It’s too much for them to handle.” Talia whispers to me as we pass.

I look at her quickly, amazement in my eyes and maybe a hint of terror. Angels? I almost can’t process it. So, I push it to the back of my mind to process later when my life isn’t in imminent danger.

From my left I suddenly hear a cloud of whispers in my ear. I gasp softly and turn to see a hooded figure in the corner. He’s sitting by himself, smoking a cigar. I can’t see his face, but I see a hint of white hair and black eyes as the light of his cigar illuminates his face ever so slightly. My heart…. palpitates. Like it’s trying to jump out of my chest toward him or warn me against him. As long as my eyes stay on him, I can hear the whispers in my head. I can’t look away from him. That is, until Talia pulls back a black lace curtain for us to pass through.

It’s unmistakable which one of the people in the the large VIP area are the Seer. Different beings surround her, and I can tell that she doesn’t just dabble in the magic of witches. She reigns and revels in magic of all sorts.

She looks feral. Nothing like the beings in this club that sport leather and lace. She wears a brown dress that fits loosely around her small frame and a floor length jacket with leather and fur accents. There’s a crown on her head that looks like it was handmade with fur trimmings. The two witches that are by her side, knelt down, look between her and I intently, waiting for any need to protect their Queen. They worship her. It’s clear. Her eyes are cloudy like she’s blind, but she looks directly at me the moment I step in her presence.

Talia and her group of witches kneel down and bow to her. I stay upright.

“So this is she.” She stands upright from her throne and walks down the few steps that lead to her seat, her feet bare as they gracefully pad across the fur carpet and toward me. “The Queen.” I stand my ground as she approaches me and when she mocks a curtsy in my direction, my jaw clenches tight. She stands upright and leans forward, inhaling deeply, before she tilts her head to the side as if she’s…. tasting. Savoring my scent.

“You’re not afraid. Good. You shouldn’t be.” She grins up at me, her grey, cloudy eyes meeting mine. “You have quite a journey ahead of you, Creole Queen. I’ve seen it all.”

I can see from the corner of my eye that Talia and the male witch look at each other and I do my best not to scoff quietly. I’m here to listen because I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not because I believe any of this bullshit.

“You got the wrong one. I’m not her. I cain’t be.”

As I look into her eyes, I can almost see the reflection of images in her white iris’. Like she’s having visions even as we speak. She smirks at me before turning to move back toward her throne.

“So you don’t believe? That you could hold that much power or that you want so desperately to go home to your family that you don’t |want| it to be true?”

She sits down, the witches on either side of her straightening her dress until she waves her hand for them to stop. At the mention of my family, my jaw clenches and I have to force back the guttural snarl that threatens to leave my lips.

“This woman…. She’s not the one.”

I almost can’t believe the words that leave her lips as she says them. Talia and her partner look at each other and I can tell that the energy has shifted. Relief washes over me and I feel like I can breathe again. Fuck. I can go home. I can fucking go home.

“Don’t mistake me, Deréon Devereaux. We will see each other again. Sooner than you think….”

She grins at me and leans back in her seat before dismissing us with a wave of her hand. “Leave now. You have what you need, Talia LaBlanc.” Talia doesn’t move at first, but I’m the first to push past her band of goons and push past the lace curtain. My heart is racing as I leave the club. The witches that accompanied me either don’t follow me or linger too far behind to keep up with my eager feet. I’m no longer of any help to them so they’re in no hurry to keep me restrained.

When I get outside, I feel like I can breathe. Like my body is no longer under attack. Like I can accept the very real possibility of going home. To my babies. I walk down the sidewalk a ways and reach my hand to softly touch the side of a brick building to steady myself. The rush of adrenaline is slowly starting to wear off and I feel a little light headed from the excitement.

I close my eyes for a moment to concentrate on steadying my breathing when I feel a wisp of wind push my curls against my cheek. When I open my eyes again, the man that Talia said was an Aege…. the man with blood on his lips, stands in front of me. The familiar grin on his lips as he looks me up and down.

The energy shift around me makes me, for the first time, worried. What have I gotten myself into?

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 5 - City of the Damned 》|

My mind is spinning in a million different directions, attempting to wrap around the idea that I was brought here for some bullshit. My magic has never been |that| powerful that it warrants trans-dimensional travel. I’m not weak by any means and people have tried and failed to overpower me and my coven. But the fact of the matter is that these people are trying to tell me that I’m something of literal legend. The manifestation of a god that only exists in their realm. It can’t be real. Gods like that don’t just exist in one dimension. Especially if the root of their power is traveling through space and time.

It wasn’t long before they decided that the information they were feeding me wasn’t going to sink in. It’s too unbelievable. My mind is trying to grapple the idea that I may or may not be stuck here. “The only way out is through”. Fuck. What the fuck does that even mean?

“She’s not understanding how important this is.”

They’ve made it a habit to speak about me as if I’m not standing but a few feet from them. It makes my lips twitch ever-so slightly. The man walks over to me warily. His conditioning from me handing his ass to him not but an hour ago. It feels like time has stood still since then.

“Asha is our Seer. She can see what will be and what has been. If anybody can convince you what we’re saying is real, it’s her.”

His tone is a lot less hard than before. More respectful. If they thought I wielded all this power, it’s a mystery to me why they would even try me like they did. But stupid is as stupid does. These three witches have proven to me that they couldn’t possibly protect themselves in a situation that would require more than a prayer and an earth ritual. Maybe their impending demise is deserved.

Just as the thought passes, I’m surprised at myself for a moment. The anger I feel…. the pain…. it’s got my mind in such a dark place. A dangerous place for someone like me. My initial reaction to him is to tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve got nothing left to lose at this point. But the idea of being brought outside beyond these walls makes the wheels in my head start turning.

We’re in New Orleans. Or so these people are telling me. Maybe I can….

The smaller and seemingly the youngest of the four witches brings me a pile of clothes that I can change into. I hadn’t even noticed that the clothes I had been wearing are tattered and dirty. Her eyes are kind, maybe even a little scared, as she hands me the clothes. It honestly takes me back for a moment and I can feel the seemingly permanent hardened expression on my face soften at the sight of hers.

“Thank you.”

She smiles, seemingly reluctantly at me before she looks around at the people around her and takes a step back from me. What’s this girls involvement in all this? I can see that she’s much more meek than the others. If I were to need a weak link, she would be it.

With a wave of Talia’s hand, the warehouse in which we were once standing transforms into a loft space. Luxurious. Where there was once concrete walls, there are now floor to ceiling windows. I walk over to them, my eyes looking over the scene in amazement. This is not the New Orleans I know. It’s dark, a cloud of smog covering my city like a protective blanket. So dark. The life that I remember…. It’s gone. This isn’t my city.

“This is your home now, Miss Devereaux. We’ve tried to make it as…. Comfortable as possible.”

She turns to me and I look back at her. It seems as though the tone of the conversation has changed dramatically. Instead of her hardened tone, I can sense that she’s calmed down quite a bit. I don’t know if that's a good thing or not, but I’m willing to play along with both of the eyes in the back of my head wide open. No matter what, these are my captors. I need to find a way out.

“Fix yourself up. This isn’t the same New Orleans you know. You have to blend in or they will smell your power from a mile away. So, dress accordingly.”

She looks at me, sincerity clear in her face as she gestures to the closet in front of me. I look them up and down, trying to decipher what dressing accordingly means. All black. A style that would be suited for someone traveling between time. Their style has an archaic flare but still modern. Corsets, black lace, denim and leather accents. And as I look down at the clothes that the young witch brought me, I raise a brow and look up at them.

“Asha will be waiting to see you. We’re going to a club. Only supernatural beings can enter. You will have to prove your magic. That shouldn’t be a problem for you. We will be downstairs.”

She looks over at the others and beckons them to follow her, the little one trailing closely behind her, but looking back at me with a smile. The corner of my lips twitch slightly, but I don’t give her a full smile. I can’t forget where I am. When the door closes behind them, I turn back to the windows and move closer to them again. I can damn near smell the sulfur in the air from the spell locking me in this fucking place.

I want so badly to scream at the walking bodies on the streets below. To get someone's attention. To be saved from this nightmare. I feel my heart start to beat quickly in my chest. This is the first time I’ve been by myself…. Alone in a place that seems to be my own personal hell. I’m slowly falling to pieces as I grip the edge of the stone window sill and slowly lower myself to my knees. The sharp pain in my knee as it makes contact with the ground lets me know that I’m not in a nightmare. That I’m alive. That I’m living this.

I allow myself a moment. One moment. A sharp, deep groan leaves my lips and my lips part as I breathe deeply and clutch my chest. My heart is broken. My body even more so. Visions of my family flash across my mind. Kai’s beautiful face smiling up at me as she places soft kisses on my swollen belly where her brother and sister lie in wait. Lex’s arms wrapped around me in a shroud of protection. Ra’s bright smile as we cook Kai’s favorite meal in his kitchen.

One moment. It’s fleeting and when I compose myself, I feel the ache of wanting it to return. Wanting to relive those precious moments. But I can’t. That doesn’t exist for me anymore. Not now.

I down at myself. Tattered clothes, dirt on my brown skin. I’m a fucking mess. My clothes are tattered and blood stains the white tank top I’m wearing. It brings my attention back to the pain I feel radiating through me. My knee. My busted lip.

Walking over to the bathroom, I look in the mirror to see the damage. My lip is split on my right side and I’m hoping that the throbbing I feel will subside sooner rather than later. I’m exhausted. I feel like I haven’t slept since I was in my own realm.

I miss them. I miss them so fucking much.

No. I had my moment. I inhale deeply and look at the clothes in my grasp. Time to play their game. I turn the shower on as hot as it will go and carefully peel the clothes off my body. My body is changed. Healed from giving birth and curved to show that I carried twins. More so than when I carried Kai. I avert my eyes, the memories accompanied by the vision of my body making my heart sink.

The hot water against my skin hurts but this pain is better than remembering. So, I endure it. I revel in it. It burns my skin like I’m being reborn. Like I have a fighting chance. I just have to fight fire with a more powerful fire. I’ll show them what I’m made of.

When I finally put on the black satin dress and jewelry accents given to me and feel ready to face whatever’s to come, I walk downstairs, my heels softly tapping against the concrete stairs as I do. My wild curls and sunglasses serve as a protective barrier from eyes trying to read my expression too closely as I find the four witches waiting for me.

“Let’s get this shit ov’a wit’.”

My eyes shift to the mans, silently daring him to try me again. He’s the temperamental one. And he likes to play dirty. So, as I push past him and follow Talia out of the building, I see that there’s a car waiting for us to get in. From the street level, the city looks even darker than I imagined. What the hell happened here? The whole drive, my eyes try to rediscover this city I once called home. It looks the exact same, except the air is thick with magic. Different forms of magic. I can almost taste it. Some bitterness. Sweetness. Different forms of energy just floating around, waiting to be picked up on. I would be surprised if there are any humans in this godforsaken place.

We pull up next to where Cafe Du Monde once was, but it’s desolate now. Completely ruined. The few people that do linger are rummaging through the rubble surrounding the area like scavengers.

“What happened here?”

Talia looks between the other witches between them before taking a deep breath.

“There was a war. Between supernaturals. It ruined us. All of us. Except….”

She swallows back her next words and clears her throat as the male next to her touches her hand. It’s clear that it’s an affectionate touch and I catalogue that in the back of my mind. Just in case….

“The Seer will tell you everything you need to know.”

Of course she will.

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 4 - Scars of a Forgotten Future 》|

I’m woken swiftly from my forced slumber by the heart-wrenching feeling of falling. When I hit the ground, I let out a deep groan and slowly try to open my eyes to see what surrounds me. My eyes try to process anything familiar, but it looks like I’m in an underground…. warehouse? But it’s completely empty except for a lone desk

I notice three figures standing in front of me and I pull myself up to my knees slowly, making sure to keep the pressure off of the knee that still pulses with pain. My body aches, but I won’t let it show. A sharp, cold pain in my lip makes me lift my fingers to it. A hiss threatens to escape but I hold it in as I look to see blood on my fingers. I can feel the slow burn of my power in my chest slowly grow. Anger, frustration, fear. All fueling it.

This time, though, they came prepared. My eyes fall to the circle around me and the blood that must have sealed whatever spell that will attempt to keep me here. There are Wiccan binding spells drawn in chalk and blood on the floor and I look up between the three witches in front of me, eyes dark with the slow burning anger I felt before. One man, three women. The man brings his palm to his lips and blows a white dust in my direction. When the lines drawn on the concrete glow a dark red, I know the powder must be ground down bone. I feel the spell tightening around me, making the air thick. I take shallow breaths as I feel a sensation of tightening around me. Like someone is wrapping me tightly with rope. Witches and their fucking binding spells.

“The more you fight it, the tighter it will get. Understood?”

I look up at the woman in the middle, my jaw clenching in an attempt to steel myself. This spell, as showy as it is, is just that. Mostly show. But I want them to feel the facade of that security they’re clinging so tightly to. So, I nod my head slowly. The ghost of the rope slacks a little and I look between the three of the hooded figures in front of me.

“Which one’a y’all is Talia?”

A small witch that lingers in the back looks up at the one in the middle and my eyes find hers. The large hood of the cape she’s wearing covers her face and she slowly pushes it back until I can see all of her face.

“That would be me, Miss Devereaux. Welcome to New Orleans. It may not be the one you’re used to, but welcome home nonetheless.”

My brows attempt to furrow, but I hold it in. Home? I don’t want them to be able to read me in any way. I have no idea what I’m dealing with here and I want them to keep feeding me information. Let them think they’re in control. The grin on her face makes me clench my jaw tightly.

“I’m guessing you’re wondering why you’re here. Why I deceived you. I’m sorry I had to do it.”

My muscles tense at her words. The hint of fear almost completely hidden in the cockiness she tries to give off. But I can still hear her fear. Good. She’s scared. She should be. If she brought me here, she knows what I’m capable of. Pain, anger, and the fact that I have nothing left to lose is a powerful motivator.

“Ya stole my whole family from me. So ya bett’a get to the point. Quickly. I ain’t got much patience fa small talk nowadays.”

Her face falters ever so slightly. If I wasn’t paying attention, it would have come and gone without being noticed. Fear. I’m trying to keep my own cool, but I’m doing a much better job than she is. To her, I’m unpredictable. She wasn’t expecting me to nearly tear her spell to pieces before. I can see it in the writing on the floor that she’s made this binding spell to hold a specific power. But she doesn’t know my power….

“I….” She starts speaking, but my gaze on hers makes her betray her own resolve. “I’m sorry. But my people's existence is in jeopardy. You are Deréon Devereaux.” She speaks as if I know what she means. She speaks like I’m some deity in her realm. I can see that she expects some reaction from me but, when she doesn’t get what she wants, she shakes her head.

“We need to take her to Asha.” The man's deep voice causes my eyes to move to his. I look him up and down, assessing his threat level. I’m almost certain that he’s the one who hit me since the other three in the room are the only ones I saw in the alley.

I have nothing to lose by playing along. It’s clear to me now that they think I’m too important to kill. The question that stands is why? Why do they need |me|? Of all the people they could have called upon, why me? My thoughts stray briefly. To my children. My husband. Rafa. Zari. I look down at the floor, the anger I felt so clearly before rising in my chest.

“Y’all need to let me go. Now.”

My voice is stern. Demanding. Authoritative. So much so that they look between one another, hoping that someone else will address me. The man steps to me, his energy reading as threatening as he steps into the circle. With a wave of his hand, the invisible bindings around me tighten and it makes me emit a loud, deep groan. It squeezes me so tight that I can barely breathe. No. Fuck that. Not this time.

I take as deep of a breath as I can, the fire in my chest burning deep as I close my eyes. I can feel my energy rising and exuding from me, pressing the spell that wraps around me away from my body like a forcefield. Every muscle in my body is tense as the magic in my body builds until it fills every cell - every atom of my being. As I look up at them, I can feel the fire burning in my eyes as I do, giving my brown eyes an amber glow to them. I have no idea where this power is coming from, but I can’t stop now. The spell is weak and this could be my only chance.

My fists clench and I slam them hard against the concrete, the spell written out on the floor cracking beneath my fists. The realization that their spell is broken makes them take a step back from the broken circle. I slowly move to stand up, looking at the three of them, my eyes still glistening. The man reaches out, attempting to grab me, but the force surrounding me stops him in his tracks. He’s imobile but completely conscious. And he’s under my complete influence as I slowly walk toward him. As I push the hood off of his head to see his face, I shake my head disapprovingly. As my eyes study his, I can sense his fear. Smell it, even.

“Ya best keep ya hands off me from now on. Understood?”

I throw their words back at them and let his limp body drop to the floor before turning to look at the two women and the smaller one behind them. As angry and in pain as I am, I’m not them. I can never hurt someone the way they’ve hurt me and I won’t let my pain turn me into a monster.

“Y’all took me from my family. I ain’t e’en get to kiss my newborn children goodbye ‘fore y’all snatched me from them. If I had any sense, I would kill y’all where ya stand.”

The thought crosses my mind, but I hold it at bay. For now. They’ve told me enough about themselves for me to know that they aren’t nearly as powerful as I am. That gives me an advantage that I don’t want to have to use.

“Ya best start talkin’ ‘fore I change my damn mind.”

It feels like a while before someone speaks, but the one named Talia starts first. Her voice, that was once strong with a hint of confidence, that of a child now.

“We had to bring you here. Our people are being killed and you are a witch of legend. One of the most powerful that any realm has ever seen.”

I can’t help that my brows furrow in confusion now. I know I didn’t get pulled away from my children and mistaken for someone else. The tamed fire in my chest starts to stir again and I have to take a deep breath to calm it.

“Ya got the wrong one. I ain’t who ya lookin’ fa. I cain’t be.”

She shakes her head and turns around to the table behind them, quickly grabbing the book from there and flipping through quickly. My mind is spinning. What the fuck is going on?

“Look.” As she steps toward me carefully and hands me the aged book, I look down at the worn pages. “You are the Creole Queen of New Orleans. Legend says that you can travel through realms at will and that you’ll give birth to the most powerful generation of witches to come.”

My eyes skim through the pages and recognize the four pyramids…. From my dream. No. That was just a dream. This can’t be real.

“Wait. Hol’ the fuck up.”

My senses are overwhelmed and I hold my hand that isn’t clutching the spine of the ancient book up. This can’t be me. I’ve never been more than above average at rituals and casting spells. My only partner is @PetwoPonMeHead. I can’t be this Creole Queen. I can’t be….

“You got it all wrong. It ain’t me. Ya done made a deal fa the wrong one.”

Talia’s eyes shift from fear to confusion to anger but she knows better now than to let it show further than her eyes. As if I’m supposed to know that I’m this…. Creole Queen. It’s not me. I hear the man's voice from behind me and turn around to look at him as he struggles to get up off the floor.

“We have to take her to see Asha. She will tell her the truth.”

No. I’ve waited long enough to hear their stupid fucking fairytales.

“Nah. Send me the fuck home. I cain’t help y’all. I’m not ya girl.”

Talia shakes her head, her eyes narrowed in confusion at me. “You’re stuck here. Until your purpose is fulfilled. There’s no way out. Only through.”

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 3 - Ghost 》|

Darkness surrounds me in more ways than one. I can feel the depth of my solitude in my soul as I look around, desperate to see something - anything that can tell me where I am and where my children are. I reach my hands out, hoping to touch something solid to bear the weight I feel. But I feel nothing. Less than nothing. I don’t even feel my feet touching the ground. It’s almost like an empty solitude.

I have no purpose here. I could run until my feet bleed, but I don’t know which direction will get me out of here. I can scream in hopes of being saved or even summoning somebody - anybody that can explain where I am and if this is hell. But it would be futile. No one is here but me. Maybe this is hell.

I remember their faces. A baby boy and a baby girl. Beautiful and precious. Full of life. It’s something I would have died a thousand times for and the same thing I would die a thousand times to see again. With the thoughts of their beauty in my mind, I feel my chest becoming heavier. Tighter. Like it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. With a slew of different emotions running through my mind, I feel the heavy urge to fall to my knees. I can’t focus on them right now. They’re gone. They’ll get to live and grow up. They’ll get to meet their sister. They’ll get to live. So I do my best to bury them deep until I’m equip to deal with them again. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready to fathom the thought of my children being lost to me forever.

How do I accept the fact that I will more than likely never see my newborn children? That I will never get to ease their sleepless nights or hug them close when all they need is their mother’s tenderness I will never get to see Kai ride her bike or play in our backyard. How can I accept that I’ve left so much on Lex’s shoulders? That I’ve, in a way, betrayed him. How do I survive this?

“Hello?”

My voice is involuntarily shaky, my body fighting against every urge I have to break into a sprint and run until I can find some remnants of reality. Whether it be the one I want or not. The longer I don’t see anyone, the angrier I get. I made a deal. I gave my soul which means someone should come collect.

Just as soon as the thought comes, a bright light shines and lights up the whole room. My hands instinctively move to cover my eyes as the light burns my eyes at how sudden it appears. When I’m able to gain control and push the pain aside, I open my eyes to see that the dark room I was once standing in is now a white room. What the hell is going on? Am I dead?

“No, dear.”

The deep, African accent surrounds me. I can’t see him but I already know who it is. Papa Legba. I look around warily, almost desperate for him to do with me what he wants. To rid myself of the pain of not knowing. Of never seeing Blue again. Of never loving @LeRoiDuVooDoo again. My eyes burn, but I refuse to let the tears fall. Not this time.

“I made ya deal. I’m yours. What ya want from me?” My voice is almost petulant and I know I have to be careful. I’m not dealing with an average spirit. Papa Legba is a loa that isn’t one to be fucked with in the least. So, as angry and sad and frustrated as I am, I have to tread carefully.

I hear his low laugh just at my ear and my body tenses, a slow shiver slowly creeping up my spine as black smoke surrounds me and I feel him softly push my curly hair off my shoulder. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in and I feel my jaw clench. I don’t know what I feel more. Anger or fear. He’s trying to tease me, but I won’t allow him to effect me on the outside. On the inside, though…. I’m screaming.

“Don’t be afraid, child.” He says, obviously sensing my fear. Then that means he feels my anger as well. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

I turn my head slightly as he slowly walks away from his position behind me, my jaw staying clenched as I see him for the first time in what feels like a year.

“I’m sorry our deal had to turn out that way. But she was right ‘bout you.”

My brows furrow and I know I look confused as hell as I try to piece together the puzzle he’s trying to put in front of me.

“Who is ‘she’?” Even I can tell that I sound testy as I ask. I’m not one to draw out bad endings. Especially when they concern me never seeing my family again. My chest tightens at the thought.

“Ya know, you should read contracts that you sign before you sign them, Miss Deréon.”

His proper French pronunciation of my name makes me catch my breath as I take in every word he says. I’m genuinely taken aback. My heart begins to pound in my chest as the anger I felt now dissolved into sheer fear. Panic, even. Have I done something wrong? Have I condemned my family? What the hell is going on? He holds up his hand and a cloud of black smoke brings the contract I signed with my blood from what seems like ions ago.

I look up at him to read his expression. He’s grinning and his eyes are locked on mine, but he won’t give away in his face whether it’s just me that’s condemned or if I’ve fucked all this up. I take it the contract with his nonverbal permission and read furiously over the script.

“Talia, first of her name, hereby declares 100 souls for the loa of the crossroads, Papa Legba. In exchange, Deréon Gisele Devereaux of the new blood Devereaux coven of the year two thousand and twenty will be delivered to one Talia Delphine LaBlanc. With both Talia and Deréon’s blood, this contract is sealed until Deréon’s purpose is fulfilled.”

What the fuck? I open my mouth to ask who Talia is and what purpose I have to fulfill. This doesn’t make even the slightest sense to me. He must sense my confusion because he starts laughing. Loudly. The kind of laugh that would send chills through someone who wasn’t as experienced with this Loa as I am. And being familiar with him isn’t a good thing.

“You shall see, Miss Deréon. You’ve got quite a road ahead of you.”

His laugh seems to echo through the space around us and with the clap of his hands, he’s gone. He’s gone and I’m…. still stuck here. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I suddenly feel the space beneath me cave in and I begin to fall. My heart drops and I scream loudly, my arms reaching out for anything to hold onto. Then I hit the ground. Hard.

The ground is hard and cold beneath me and I groan loudly at a sharp pain I feel at my knee. I don’t think it’s broken, but I’m afraid that if I try to stand up, I will do more hard than good. My eyes immediately move quickly to survey my surroundings. I’m in what looks like an abandoned alley but I have no idea where I am. Not that I’m even surprised at this point. I try to find something familiar like a street sign or familiar sounds of jazz music that’s always playing in the quarter. But, instead, I hear muffled laughs from the street and the sound of a perpetual hum like there’s a bulb about to burst somewhere nearby. But that could also be a concussion talking.

I slowly move to stand up, careful not to put too much weight on my knee as I make my way toward the street. Just as I almost make it, I feel a sharp pain in my head and I immediately move my free hand that’s not pressed against the brick building next to me to my temple. Accompanying the pain is a loud, screeching sound that feels so loud that my eardrums threaten to rupture. It feels like someone is trying to crush my scull. Slowly and painfully.

I can barely take the pain as I fall to my knees, the pain I feel in my head far outweighing the pain I feel in my knee. Pressing both my palms to my head now, I try to scream, but I can’t. No sound leaves my lips as I strain to call for help to the street. My head is spinning and I can feel my body slowly start to give way to the pain as I slowly start to lose consciousness.

“She’s finally here.”

I hear a female voice say in almost a whisper. I can feel that whatever is trying to break my consciousness is magic. The tingling sensation I feel through my body gives that away even through the pain. I don’t know where I am or why I’m here, but I’m not giving up without a fight. I inhale deeply and clench my hands into fists, feeling the low hum of my power from deep inside of me gradually become a vibrating force with every second that I push back against the magic trying to thwart me. Whatever magic it is, it’s strong. The spell is weak but the power behind it is enough to begin to overcome me. This is not VooDoo. It’s earth magic.

I can feel the slow slither of the power of the spell creep along my spine in an attempt to combat my own defenses as I softly chant to myself.  My power is growing and the pain in my head becomes more and more of a dull pulsation than piercing pain. The spell cast upon me manifests itself as a snake and wraps itself around me in an attempt to subdue me further, but my defenses are just as strong, even in my weakened state, as the strongest witch chanting in the background. And I can hear about five or six of them chanting as they move to circle me.

“She’s too strong, Syn”

I can feel heat coming through my palms and radiating over my skin, my eyes glowing an orange and red tint in response to my power. I feel the buildup in my chest. The same power I felt before, but amplified, and I know these witches have no idea just how powerful anger and desperation can make a woman like me. Just as I prepare to exert the force of what feels like built up fire in my chest, something hits me from behind and I feel myself fall to the ground. My head is spinning now and just before I fall back into darkness, I hear a soft voice whisper:

“Oh She’s definitely the one.”

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 2: Otherside 》|

Today is different. I know I’ve been very sensitive to the energy around me, but today is different…. it’s Halloween. All Hallows’ eve. The witches holiday. The energy is usually different on Halloween, but this energy is different.

“Mommy! Come on!”

Blue pulls me down the stairs carefully after she’s rushed me all day to get dressed and ready. I’ve been taking her to the studio lately to hear some new music I’ve been writing and she can’t get enough. Today, though, I’ve got a surprise for her.

“Is Uncle Rafa coming over tonight, Mommy? It’s Halloween!”

Smiling at my beautiful daughter, I guide her toward the home studio we had built so that Lex can be home more often when he’s working on solo projects.

“Ya know we still doin’ our traditional spooky movie night, baby. Don’t worry. He pro’lly gon’ come later tonight.”

She nods furiously at the concept an’ I smile widely. The relationship she has with Rafael amazes me more and more every day. It’s amazing to see the connection they have. She’s gonna need that if…. something does end up happening to me.

With one hand on my belly, I walk through the soundproof door and Kai goes running in fast and furiously. She gets so excited to be here and it makes me so happy that she can find an outlet for her emotions. That she’s learning through us that she can express herself freely without fear of retribution.

“Come sit down, baby.”

I lift her up to it on the couch in the recording space and bring the portable microphone over to the couch. I want her to feel comfortable to speak into the microphone and it seems like it comes very naturally for her.

“I wrote a song, Blue. Well, a couple songs that I think ya gon’ like. Ya may not undastand it righ’ now, but ya will eventually.”

She smiles up at me ‘cause she done heard this speech before. The one where I tell her she will undastand when she’s older. Placing the headphones on her head, I gesture for her to just listen as the track slowly starts playing and I take a seat next to her with my headphone on securely. I let the music play, softly feeling the rhythm roll through my body as I set the paper with the lyrics I’ve written on the stand attached to the mic.

“If you feel insignificant,

You better think again.

Better wake up

Because you’re part of somethin’ way bigger.

You’re part of somethin’ way bigger.

Not just a spec in the universe.

Not jus’ some words in a bible verse.

You are the livin’ word.

Mmmm.

You’re part of somethin’ way bigger.

Bigger than you,

Bigger than we.

Bigger than the picture they framed us to see.

But now we see it.

And it ain’t no secret.

No.

Understand that truth about that question in yo soul

Look up, don’t look down

And let the answers unfold.

Life is your birthright.

They hid that in the fine print.

Take a pen and rewrite it.

Step out ya estimate.

Ste in your essence

And know that you’re excellent.

Rise.

The spirit is teach in’.

No, I’m not jus’ preachin’,

I’m takin’ my own advice.”

I smile down at her and softly brush my fingers against her cheek as she looks up at me. I can see the amazement in her eyes as she looks up at me. The idea that I won’t see her grow up to be an amazing, talented woman breaks my heart. But I want to make sure I do everything I can to teach her what I know. To let her know that no matter what happens, she has a greater purpose. And even though she thinks I’m invincible, I’m also human. I struggle and I’m strong enough to get through it. Just like she is.

“Let Mama let you know.

Mama’s still tryin’.

I won’t get no days off.

I don’t get no days off.

Truly I’m feelin’ it.

I had to say that thing twice.

Tryin’ to be a good wife.

Still really hard,

I cain’t lie.

But I promised you I would fight.

So I fight.

If ya feelin’ frustrated and

Ya sinkin’, I’m jumpin’ in.

Forgiveness is key

Because we’re part of somethin’ way bigger.

You never lose.

We are winners.

I’ll be the roots.

You’ll be the tree.

Pass on the fruit that was given to me.

Legacy.

You’re part of somethin’ way bigger.”

I let the beat flow for a moment and close my eyes to feel the music in my soul. I know it will translate well, but this song means more than just a expression of feelings. It’s meant to empower my daughter. Whether I’m by her side through it all, or watching her with my ancestors. It’s heavy and she may not understand it right now, but I need to get it out.

I’ve spent so much time just enjoying my time with Kai and Lex. Every time I see Zari, she gets more and more excited about when the babies get here. And even though I see that Ra is trying, he can barely look me in the eye too long.

“That was pretty, Mommy. I liked it.”

Her encouragement ricochets through me and I smile and lean down to kiss her cheeks. She deserves to know the truth. What’s really going on in our lives right now. If anybody is going to be hurt by this, it’s going to be her. No amount of explanation can heal losing your mother. And even though I’ve mentally accepted that as the probable possibility, it is still true that all of this could be fixed. That me simply knowing what could happen could transform the entire vision.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts and I see Zariyah peek her head into the impromptu studio setup we have in progress. She smiles at me and takes my hand. Her and Kai are both giggling and I know something’s up with them. I know it’s Halloween, but I don’t like surprises all that much. Especially when I’m on the receiving end.

“What happened to trick-or-treatin’, Blue Bear?”

She giggles and shakes her head playfully as she tells me there’s a better surprise coming.

Zari leads me out of the house to the car, after I take a couple minutes to get ready, and to a plantation style house in the middle of the bayou. Outside of the house in the entrance to the back yard is a display of balloons spelling out “Deréon’s Push Party”. How the hell did I know Zari was gonna go all the way out? As I walk inside, everybody that I love is here. My parents. My husband. My daughter. Rafa. Ques. Not a big crowd, but it’s the only one that matters.

The theme is African tribal and everybody is dressed up in the African prints showing all out. When Zari takes me to get dressed, she fashions me in a tribal print custom bralette, a long skirt, and a head wrap to end all head wraps. When she got so good at this, I’ll never know, but I couldn’t be more grateful.

We dance. We sing. We pray to the spirits together. And now more than ever is when I feel the urge to stay. To not listen to the voice in the back of my head and just…. let it be. But I can’t. After the party ends and I say goodbye to everyone, Lex and I take our drive home alone. My heart feels heavier than ever as I sit next to my partner, the person I want to spend my life with, and hide this from him.

“Baby…. I have to tell you something.” I say, my voice shaking ever so slightly as I speak.

Looking over at Lex, I can tell he has no idea what I’m about to say. The smile on his face hurts more than I could ever express. Because he has no idea. Just as I part my lips to speak, I feel a sharp pain in my belly.

“What’s wrong, Bae?”

Lex’s voice is full of concern as he slows down and pulls over to the side of the road. Just as I’ve got my breathing under control, I feel another sharp pain in my side. An intense tightening. And I know right away that they’re contractions.

“Fuck!”

I breathe heavily and look over at Lex. His expression is mixed between fear and excitement as he quickly tries his best to take control of the situation and make his way to the hospital. My contractions are about 5 minutes apart by the time we get there, and in my head I’m trying my best to silently pray for the well being of my children while also mentally preparing myself to do whatever necessary to save them.

“Come here, baby. Let me help you.”

Lex helps me get changed into the nightgown and the doctors immediately strap on the baby heart rate monitor to my belly and begins to examine how to proceed forward. Everything thus far has gone smoothly, but when I hear a loud beeping sound coming from the heart rate monitor next to us, my own heart starts to beat rapidky. I clutch onto Lex’s hand tightly as the doctor spreads the jelly onto my belly and looks at the ultrasound. In a matter of seconds his calm expression turns to that of dismay and I already know….

“Mr. and Mrs. Tomas, it looks like one of your babies has the umbilical cord wrapped around their neck. We’re going to have to do an emergency c-section right away. Mr. Tomas, the nurses will help you get in some scrubs so you can be with your wife.”

I can feel my world crumbling around me as Lex leaves and I’m left in a room full of nurses and doctors. They administer my epidural and all I can think about is the fact that I don’t know if I can save them. I’m fucking terrified. My heart is beating out of my chest.

Everything happens so fast but it feels like years until Lex comes back. When he does, I grip into his hand tightly as if it’s the last time I’ll get the chance.

“Baby…. listen to me. I love you so much and I’m so sorry.”

As I speak, the tears slowly fall down my face. I’m trying my best to be strong, but I can’t take it. Lex leans down to me and wipes the tears off my face, his expression that of concern. I know that it’s because of the fact that I’m always so strong that in this moment, I’m at my weakest point and he doesn’t understand why. That’s my fault. The fact that he will have to live with the decisions I’m making is my fault.

Just as I’m about to speak again, the room goes dark. Like I can’t see anything kind of dark. And when the lights come back, I’m standing in an empty operating room. Confused, I look around to figure out what dimension I’ve traveled to just as I lear Papa Legba’s subtle laugh fill the room.

I never made a deal with him. So why he’s pulled me here is a terrifying mystery to me.

“Mrs. Tomas. Here we are again.”

He spreads his arms open as if to showcase the room we’re in and I wrap my arms around myself protectively.

“Didn’t I say you would be asking for my help in the end, child?”

His African accent is thick and I try my best to focus on that rather than the other thousand fears threatening to break my consciousness.

“You knew it was gon’ come to this.”

I say, not really able to hide the fear and downright anger I feel in my chest. He laughs again and shrugs his shoulders, his eyes burrowing into mine as if he’s staring into my soul.

“I. Know. All. You want to save your children’s lives. I require a soul sacrifice. The rules are not knew, child. But I have to say that I am being quite generous in my offer. I only require one life to save your two children.”

He raises a brow at me, the grin on his lips resembling that of the Cheshire Cat. He is confirming my worst fear. Allowing one of both of my babies to die to save myself or sacrificing myself for my children to grow up. Live fruitful lives. It’s not a hard decision to make because I’ve lived my life. I’ve grown. I’ve been in love. I’ve been hurt. I’ve gotten stronger. I’ve lived my life. How could I ever sacrifice my children for the sake of my own life?

I steel myself, my eyes looking up to meet his. He already knows my answer. All it takes is a drop of blood to be final. In his outstretched hand is a knife and a piece of paper. I don’t even think before grabbing the knife, cutting my hand and letting a drop of blood fall onto the paper where the signature would go.

I can feel the burn of the tears, but just as I’m about to cry, I blink and I’m back in the hospital with Lex’s worried expression looking down at me. Instead of speaking, I wait. Wait for the sound I’ve sacrificed everything to hear.

As one baby starts crying, I feel like I can breathe easier. But as the other starts crying too, I feel my entire body relax. Like I’ve worked my entire life just for this moment. The moment that I’ve sacrificed everything for. The doctor cleans the babies off and lays them on my chest. Most of my entire world is in my arms right now as my babies nuzzle and fuss against me. I look down at their beautiful faces as if to memorize every ridge, every crease.

“My babies…. Look what we did, Lex…. Look….”

I feel my vision slowly starting to fade, but I try my best to focus and stay present.

“She’s crashing, doctor. Did we miss something?”

I can barely hear the nurse as she says it, but I already know what’s happening. I can’t hold on any more and when Lex takes the babies from my chest as the nurse instructs, I reach out to grasp his forearm.

“Baby…. Tell Blue…. Tell Blue that I love her... I’m so sorry….”

[thequeenofcreole]

|《 A Dream of Fire: Chapter 1 》|

I inhale sharply and carefully draw the symbols from my grandmothers ritual book onto the cool hardwood. I can hear the voice in the back of my mind tellin’ me this is too dangerous. That I shouldn’t even be tryin’ this, but what other option do I have?

I’m terrified. There are so many questions in my head. Why was HE in my head? In my visions? I ain’t been able to sleep or think ‘bout anything else. I tried to contact my grandmother, but I haven’t been able to contact anyone from the other side. With me bein’ pregnant, my power is supposed to be more potent than ever. Especially with twins. Twins with Laveau blood. It shouldn’t be this hard to tap into my natural power that I’ve had even before being pregnant. But I need answers to the endless questions I have.

“But you will soon be calling for Papa Legba….”

This is dangerous. I know it is, but I’ve done it before and taken the time I need to recover. I’m afraid. Not for myself, but for my family. If what Papa Legba says is true, I would never offer myself to him to protect anyone but them. I know that Lex, Ra an’ Zari can all take care of themselves. That jus’ leaves my babies. I pray to the spirits that it’s not them that need protecting.

I can feel a shiver crawl up my spine as I set the wooden bowl filled with herbs in front of me next to the sacrificial knife. Closing my eyes, I take another deep breath, steadying myself mentally and physically for this ritual. I need to be as aware and confident as I can if I’m going to come out of this unscathed.

I softly chant in Haitian Creole, “Mwen fè sakrifis sa a. San nan venn mwen pou lavni.” I try to steady my breathing as I pick up the knife and hold my wrist over the bowl. My blood is boiling beneath my skin, the tingling sensation ricocheting through my body as I slowly cut open a healed scar just on the side of my wrist. It slices with ease, like a hot knife slices through butter. My blood rushes out and spills into the bowl, the heat of my blood causing me to wince slightly.

“Mwen fè sakrifis sa a. San nan venn mwen pou lavni.”

My voice is low as I feel the air thicken and as I reach for the matches next to me, the bowl of herbs and my blood catches flame. A quiet gasp leaves my lips and I feel a deep pressure in the middle of my chest, almost as if a pair of hands slowly pressed against the skin above my heart. It slowly moves up my chest and to either side of my face, my breathing becoming erratic as I anticipate what’s to come.

When the feeling of slender fingers reaches my temples I feel them press harder and harder against my temples until it feels as though they’ve penetrated the skin. I scream loudly, my own hands moving to either side of my head in a weak attempt to soothe the pain. It’s slow…. excruciating. But I see it…. I see everything.

So many imagines flash through my mind at once. My baby shower. Blue playing with Lex. So much love. I see my babies…. my beautiful twins. But... Lex…. he looks at me, sadness covering his face as he tells me that it’s going to be okay. What’s gonna be okay?

The doctor holds my two twins. A girl and a boy. And I reach out for them, but they’re…. they’re not crying.

“NO! STOP!”

My eyes burn with the tears that have already come and those that threaten to follow suit. I can hear the wooden floor beneath me cracking as I clench my fists. The fire in my chest burns, fueled by the pain I feel mourning the children I have yet to bear.

The image of their faces slowly fades and all I see is darkness.

When I wake up, I look around the room. I must have passed out from the strain in my power. The taste of copper lingers on my lips and I reach up to find that my nose is bleeding. Slowly standing up, I rest a hand on my rounded belly just as I feel a kick. How could this be happening? How could the gods bless me so deeply and take it away so quickly?

I immediately call my doctor and schedule a follow up appointment with her to make sure everything is okay with the babies. I need to find a way to fix this. To make sure this vision doesn’t come to fruition. At any cost.

[thequeenofcreole]

‪|《 A Dream of Fire: Genesis 》|‬

The circle is drawn. The candles lit. The energy…. thick. As I sit in the middle of the circle, legs crossed beneath me an’ one hand on my babies, I breathe deeply. It’s been a minute since I spoke to the elders. Maybe too long. Guilt cuts through me like a knife at the thought as I try my best to clear my mind of thoughts both negative and reassuring.

I’m worried. I ain’t got no reason to be seein’ as though my life and my family seem to be thrivin’. My babies are healthy, Ra is doin’ the business good with Haze while I focus on my health and my husband. And we all know that we ain’t got nothin’ if drama ain’t involved. If anything, I wanna keep this good karma comin’ an’ talk to the elders. Thank them fa my good fortune.

As I relax further, I feel a soft burn in my chest. It makes a soft groan leave my lips as I press my fingers softly to the space between my breasts. At first, the pain is dull, but the heat intensifies until it’s hard for me to sit still. My mind races, trying to come up with both a reason and a solution to the pain, but it proves fruitless as a loud scream leaves my lips. My blood is racing and the pain spreads from my chest like the fire is pulsing quickly through my veins. I pant roughly and close my eyes tight, wishing for escape or relief. Praying for my children’s safety. Until, at last, it stops.

My skin suddenly feels cold, goosebumps rising on my soft flesh as I open my eyes to look around. I hadn’t even started chanting yet. That means I’ve been brought here by something. Or someone. A part of me is hoping that it’s my grandmother, but the pain I felt would never be inflicted by her. This was something else.

“There you are, my child.”

I turn swiftly and see a man in front of me, long dreads falling against his bare chest. White paint dons his dark features in the shape of a skull and beads adorn his neck, more than likely blessed beads. At the end of one of his necklaces is the skull of what looks like a snake.

Papa Legba.

I’m taken aback by him. The most sought after Loa in Vodou history, both traditionally and popularity. The gatekeeper between the living and the Loa. You don’t speak with this man unless you’re looking for a trade. Unless you need him.

“It seems you are surprised of my being here with you.”

I swallow thickly and nod, my head bowing slightly in submission as his deep West African accent surrounds me. In all honesty, I don’t know why he’s here. I didn’t summon him. Not HIM. No one summons him unless it’s their last option and I have no need for him.

“Forgive me fa disturbin’ ya, Papa Legba. It wasn’t me that brought ya here.”

My head still bowed, I speak softly so as not to mistakenly assert any dominance I know I don’t have. Even the most powerful of practitioners know when to pick their battles and I won’t let my confusion get me in any more trouble than I may already be in.

As I look up at him, he looks back with a mischievous grin, telling me he is one of one in this room that knows why I’m here.

“I’m here for a reason, Deréon Tomas. Perhaps you are not ready for me now…”

In the blink of an eye, he is in front of me, my body only inches away from his. It causes a nervous gasp to leave my lips and a protective hand to shield my belly from the closeness. His eyes avert down to my stomach, carefully watching. I know that he can see them, even below my skin that protects them from immediate danger. And as his eyes lift to mine, a fear ripples through me and turns my blood cold.

“But you will soon be calling for Papa Legba. And when you are ready, I will be here.”

His low, deep laugh fills the air around me as I slowly back away from him. It’s so loud. Deafening. It’s so loud that it hurts my ears and I slowly fall to my knees, one hand moving to cover an ear while the other keeps it’s place protectively on my stomach. Papa Legba looks down at me, his laugh still echoing through me as he reaches up to snap his fingers. When he does, I close my eyes tight, and when I open them, I’m back. In my basement.

I immediately stand up and back away from the circle, my breathing labored as I take in what the fuck just happened. I want to tell myself that it was a dream. That everything I just saw was less of a vision and more of a nightmare. But I know it wasn’t.

I look down at my stomach and rub softly where my belly button is. Is something wrong? My immediate instinct is to protect them at all cost, just as it would be at any other time. I would never sacrifice them for any reason. But why would he look at my stomach like that? A million questions are swirling in my head and I before I know it, I’m calling my doctor for an emergency appointment. Papa Legba doesn’t just show up for no reason. I have to figure out what he wants with us.