Rising: The Priestess of Infinata and The Alphine

Chapter Three – A Glimpse Into Yesterday

Adrian's POV

I wondered what she meant by "fated mate." Was it just a phrase she used because she was attracted to me? She was certainly beautiful, but I didn't show her that I am fascinated by her beauty.

I drew closer to her, but I couldn't stop myself from feeling so hot all over my body , and I knew this was all because of her proximity.

I smirked when I saw her enticing lips were slightly open, and it felt like she was teasing me with her luscious lips.

I couldn't control myself anymore, and I knew I just had to keep things casual, but at the back of my mind, I couldn't handle the urge to kiss her, and that is the truth.

She kissed me back with the same urgency, and for a minute, everything fell silent around us, and I couldn't deny, she could kiss like a pro, and it made me realize it was the best kiss I have ever had. But I had to stop it to dismiss things casually.

I was about to leave when she reminded me, she had told me we're fated mates. I thought she came up with a word because she was attracted to my pretty face. I wonder if I had probably misunderstood her.

Anyway, the idea of being bound by fate didn't sit well with me. If something was fated, that meant it would happen no matter what. I preferred to think I had control over my own life.

I'll need to clear things up with her at school by tomorrow.

*****

As I walked down the road, I hummed to myself the lullaby Mum sang to Seth and I; its soothing tune kept me calm. I lifted my shoulders, drawing the tips of my warm fluffy coat tightly to my chin and exhaled as breath vapor emerged from my mouth.

While I strolled, the familiar melody of the lullaby transported me back to those cozy nights when Mum would sit beside our bed, her soft voice weaving a tranquil spell. Dad would often accompany her, his skilled fingers plucking the guitar strings in a soothing harmony that seemed to lull the world to sleep.

The combination of Mum's gentle voice and Dad's melodic strumming created a sanctuary of sound, shielding me from the outside world. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle rhythm and the comforting feeling of being safe. I closed my eyes, letting the memories wash over me, and breathed in deeply. The crisp autumn air carried the scent of damp leaves and woodsmoke, but in my mind, I was back in my childhood bedroom, surrounded by the warmth and love that only Mum's lullaby, backed by Dad's guitar, could evoke.

Suddenly, the sound of gravel crunching beneath footsteps broke the spell. I tugged again at my collar and kept my hands which were engraved in gloves inside my pocket while I approached our home.

Stepping up to the winterhouse's facade, I caught a glimpse of Mum's headstone, by the side wall, and suddenly memories of that day rushed back, feeling as vivid as if they were yesterday.

That evening, Mum was busy in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Meanwhile, I was in the living room, playing pranks on Seth until he finally cried out, "Mummy!"

Mum rushed in to investigate. "Adrian, what have you done to Seth this time?" she asked, knowing I was a regular prankster, but also aware that I usually knew my limits.

Seth claimed, "Mummy, he put spiders on my back!" before I could even respond.

Mum consoled him, "Alright, darling, it's okay." Then, she turned to me, "Adrian, haven't I told you that Seth is your younger brother and you should look out for him, not scare him?"

I replied, "Yes, Mum," as I always did when she advised me.

After the lecture, I changed the subject. "Mum, what's for dinner?"

"We're having your favorite," she replied with a smile.

"Really?" I asked excitedly.

"Of course, darling," she confirmed.

I let out a thrilled "Yay!" Growing up, my go-to dish was mashed potatoes and gravy topped with beef.

I was 12 then, while Seth was 10.

While I helped Mom set the dining table, I couldn't help but glance at the clock every few minutes. Dad was running a bit late, but I knew he'd make it.

Just as Mom placed the last fork, the door swung open. "I'm home!" Dad announced, a weary yet warm smile spreading across his face.

My brother and I rushed to hug him, almost knocking him over. "Daddy's home! Daddy's home!" Seth squealed excitedly. "Hey, hey, easy does it!" Dad laughed, hugging us back tightly.

Mom smiled warmly and walked over to give Dad a gentle peck on the cheek. "Welcome home, dear. How was your day?"

"Long," Dad replied, "but worth it to come home to this lovely family."

I never really knew what Dad did for a living, but he always made time for us. After taking a few minutes to freshen up, he joined us at the table. "Mmm, smells amazing!" he exclaimed. He took his seat at the head of the table, and we all dug in.

While we ate, Dad asked about our day, listening attentively to our stories and adventures. It was moments like these that I cherished most – our family together, sharing laughter and love around the dinner table.

As the evening wore on, Mom and Dad began to clear the table, and I helped with the dishes. Once the kitchen was tidy, Mom announced, "Time for bed, kids!" We groggily obeyed, yawning as we made our way upstairs. Mom settled in beside my little brother, cradling him in her arms, and began to sing a soft, soothing lullaby. Dad sat on the edge of my bed, his guitar gently strumming a gentle melody that harmonized with Mom's lullaby.

plunging the room into a cozy darkness, illuminated only by the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

The sweet music filled the room, and my eyelids grew heavy. As Mom's voice and Dad's guitar blended together, my brother's eyelids began to droop, and soon he was fast asleep. I smiled, feeling grateful for these special moments with my family.

"Goodnight, Mom...Dad," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Goodnight, sleep tight, kiddo," Mom whispered back, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. Before they left the room, Dad got up and turned off the lights,

The music faded away, and the room grew quiet, filled only with the soft sound of Mom's humming and the occasional creak of the old house. They gave us one last look, then quietly slipped out of the room, leaving me to drift off to sleep, surrounded by the love and warmth of my family.

I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the memory of my parents' soothing music. But my peaceful slumber was short-lived. In the dead of night, I woke up in the middle of the night, my bladder urging me to get out of bed. I tossed off the covers and padded softly to the bathroom, trying not to disturb my brother. As I sat back down on my bed, I felt a sudden jolt. A loud crashing sound shook the house, making me scream. My heart racing, I sat up straight, my eyes scanning the darkness.

Before I could even process what was happening, my door burst open, and Mom rushed in. "Come quickly, kids!" She whispered urgently, scooping up my brother in her arms. She grabbed me, and we hastily went out of the room.

Her hand, grasping mine was slick with a liquid, but I couldn't not identify what it was in the darkness.

As we hurried downstairs, I heard strange, unsettling sounds – like the snapping of wood, the creaking of doors, and an unearthly growling noise. It sounded like some monstrous creature was tearing our house apart.

My Mum called to my Dad softly

"I'm here". his voice replied from downstairs, low and urgent. "Get the kids and go. Now."

Mum's grip tightened around us; I felt Mom's fear, her heart racing against mine. She swiftly carried us down the stairs and out the front door. As we emerged from the house, I spotted the creature's limb, partially obscured by the pillar in the living room, but it was still terrifying.

My scream was stifled by Mom's hand, clamped tightly over my mouth. "Don't look back," she whispered, pulling me along as we fled into the night. We reached the car and Mum bundled us in.

As we pulled away from the house, I caught a glimpse of Dad at the doorway. And then, I saw it. A shadowy loomed before him, it's eyes glowing like embers

"Drive!" Dad yelled.

Mum floored the accelerator, and we sped away from the house, I twisted around, looking back. The darkness seemed to swallow everything.

"Where are we going?" my brother asked, his voice trembling.

"To the winter house," Mom replied, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The drive was a blur. My mind replayed the sounds, the shadows. What was that thing? And why did Dad stay behind?

We drove for what felt like hours, the silence inside the car thick with fear. My brother's trembling voice broke the spell, "Are we safe now?"

Mom's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, her expression tight-lipped. "Almost, baby."

Finally, we turned onto a winding driveway, and the winter house came into view. Its familiar shape, usually welcoming, now seemed foreboding. Mom pulled up to the door, and we spilled out, my brother clinging to me.

As we stepped inside, Mom's legs buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, her body limp. I rushed to her side, screaming, "Mom! Mom!"

Her face was pale, her skin clammy. She struggled to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. "I...I'm sorry...baby." Her words trailed off, and her eyes rolled back.

I didn't understand. Why was she like this? But then I saw it – the dark stain spreading across her shirt, just below her shoulder. She was bleeding.

My brother's cries mixed with mine. We hugged her, pleading for her to stay with us. But her body grew colder, her breathing shallower. Her eyes, once full of life, dulled, and she went limp in our arms.

"No...no...no!" I screamed, shaking her, but it was too late. My mom was gone.

In the chaos, I forgot about the creature, about Dad, about everything except the agony of losing her. My brother and I clung to each other, shattered.

Hours passed, or maybe it was minutes – time lost all meaning. Then, a knock at the door. I hesitated, fearing the creature had followed us. But then, a familiar voice called out, "Emily? It's Sarah. I got your message."

Mom had sent a message? When?

Sarah rushed in, her face etched with shock as she took in the scene. She swept us into her arms, holding us tight. "I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry."

In a daze, I watched as Sarah took charge. She made calls, arranged things. And then, a somber group of people arrived. They carefully wrapped Mom's body, and we followed them to a secluded spot.

The cremation was a blur. I recall the flames, the smell of smoke, and Sarah's arms holding us tight. My brother and I were alone now, left to face the darkness that had taken our mum.

As the ashes settled, I whispered, "What about Dad?"

Sarah's expression was grim. "We'll find out soon, sweetie. But for now, let's focus on taking care of each other."

We later found out that Dad had also passed away, but Sarah had earlier kept the news to herself, sparing us the additional grief that would have rubbed salt in our already tender wounds.

Months passed since my parents' death. My brother and I struggled to adjust to our new reality. Sarah had suggested placing us in a foster home, citing her frequent travels as a reason she couldn't care for us full-time. But I refused, clinging to the fragile sense of stability the winter house provided.

So, we stayed, and Sarah became our guardian, checking in on us periodically. Her visits brought temporary comfort. However, as time passed her visits grew increasingly sporadic.

I took on the role of caregiver, trying to fill the void Mom left. But the weight of responsibility was crushing. I felt lost, unsure how to protect my brother from the darkness that lurked outside – and within. Yet recalling Mum's words gave me strength and motivation I needed to persevere.