DEFYING MY MATES

A Beautiful Creature

Do you know what it feels like to do all the mundane activities without proper sleep?

Terrible and insufferable. Yes, that's exactly what I feel like. An alive walking zombie.

Drink coffee, eat, work, nap and dream. It's been a month. The same f*****g dreams keep on repeating like a non-ending movie. The only difference is that now the dreams are more intense. I'm so curious about this man and it’s excruciatingly painful to not know what he looks like. It's not like it matters, but oh God! I would give up all the junk I eat for a month to just get a teeny-tiny peek at him. But, who am I kidding? It seems as if the man himself is testing my patience and playing hide and seek with me while God is just enjoying our little play from up above the stars. Huff!

I think I'll get sick if I let this infatuation get any deeper than it already is. I don't even remember the last time I stepped outside of my house.

Tomorrow is Sunday. So, I think I deserve some time to myself and what better way than to walk around the town early in the morning. A break from Mr. Mystery which would do well for me physically and especially mentally.

Waking up at 5, I did my morning routine and made myself coffee. As I sipped it, I mentally made a to-do list for the day which includes reading, reading and reading. Gearing up, I picked up my headphones and connected them to my iPod playing Life Goes On by BTS. I'm a die-hard fan of them.

Locking my house, I sprinted towards the park I saw on the way when I shifted here. There was not even a single soul I found on my way to the park, which I found a little strange, but who knows, maybe the people here weren't exactly morning types. I did a couple of laps around the park till I was out of breath. Huffing and puffing, I sat on the bench while I laid my head as well as my hands on the backrest sidewise and closed my eyes to enjoy the serenity of nature.

The weather here is amazing. The sun was hidden somewhere among the dark and angry clouds, the wind was picking up its pace, indicating the arrival of a long-anticipated storm. A lightning struck somewhere in the forest, the loud ringing sound of it snapped me out of my trance. Standing up, I stretched my muscles for a couple of minutes before I decided to head back home.

Changing my clothes drenched with sweat, I took a much needed hot shower which ultimately relaxed my tensed muscles. It’s been days since I last talked to my parents. I decided to ring them up later in the evening. Wrapping myself up in the blue fluffy towel that I completely adore, I walked into my closet to wear something warm and comfortable as the outside weather was harsh.

As I walked in my bedroom, I went still in my tracks when the window of my room rattled harshly against the howling wind and the growling clouds. I had a sudden urge to have onion fritters and tea as it went along so well. My family is a huge fan of Indian foods and I love it too. Back at home, my mum always tried different Indian cuisines while I helped her in the kitchen. Now, I’m really glad I helped as I can cook well without burning the damned kitchen.

It took almost 30 minutes to prepare my breakfast and it tasted as good as it looked. Holding the mug in my left hand, I walked towards my office c*m library to read something, probably a thriller, my all-time favorite.

Sipping the tea, I savored the sweet flavour as I glanced at shelves filled with numerous books. The ancient ones were from my grandpa’s collection that I kept, a lot more were mine that I brought from home. This is not good as I read almost all the books that I brought from home. There were a few new “old” books added to my collection, but I doubt I would find anything interesting to read. They were old, like decades old. The one I picked up was dusty and was written in Greek. Growing up, I didn’t bother to learn my mother tongue and I regret it now. I should have taken it seriously when dad tried to teach me.

Nonetheless, I kept looking. Probably, my eyes would have twinkled like stars if I saw my face in the mirror and a broad grin spread on my lips when it fell on the flimsy old journal that I stole from dad. Goodness! How in the world did I forget about it?

Drinking the rest of the tea in one go, I kept the mug cautiously on the light stand placed on the right side of the couch. Picking up the journal, I flopped on the couch near the window, bouncing a few times and flipped the journal open. I felt a little relieved to see it was written in English and not in some foreign language. I went through it and it wasn’t exactly a journal, more like a record of some type.

There were maps, sketches, notes and some kinds of stories maybe I’m not exactly sure about. I kept flipping through the pages as I saw the sketches one by one with their names written below them in a beautiful handwriting in which I wasn’t really interested until my eyes fell on a beautiful man or more like a handsome man. The sketch wasn’t drawn by a professional, but whoever drew it knew what he or she was doing. The strokes weren’t well defined and a little too harsh, as if the person who drew was venting his/her aggression on the poor paper. But, still, the outcome was stupendous or one could say the man in the sketch made it beautiful if that was even possible.

I took in the features of the man drawn on the paper while my fingertips, unconsciously, caressed his outlines drawn on the textured paper. I glanced further down on the right side of the sketch and there it was the name of the man written in cursive, Elias Andino , The Heir to the Reapers and The Silent Death clan. It suits him or maybe he suits the name. I don’t know that at this point. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I wonder what he looked like in reality.

Alas! He was either dead or a mere fantasy and there was no way in the world I could see him because, obviously, the journal was, god knows how old, or it might be an outcome of someone’s wild imagination. Who knows?

Sighing at my wild thoughts, I turned to the first page, as I was so curious to know about what dad was hiding or, more like, I wanted to know the story behind that beautiful face.

13th January, 3017

Chaos is the only thing left in Phasyria. The ground is painted with the blood of warriors who, once upon a time, vowed to protect the land from enemies. Now, they were fighting among them, manipulated by the higher-ups, the councilmen and the elders, blinded by the greed and the power of the throne.

Now that he is dead and along with him the fight is over, only God knows what will happen next.

Yes, I was mad at him for leaving me to fend for myself. I was mad at him for choosing her over me, but I didn’t want him to end up like that. I was doing fine with my so-called mate because I knew he was out there somewhere happy and safe with his beloved. But, now that he is not here, I don’t know how to go on with my life anymore.

If only he had chosen me over her, the end would have been different and he would be here with me. If only he had listened to me once, he would have been alive. If only he had rejected her, we would have been fine.

If only I was strong enough to save him, I would have….

His beloved is dead too. I don’t hate her, but I can’t make myself grieve over her death. She brought it upon us. She is to be blamed for all that happened. It’s all her fault. It’s all her fault that he is dead. He died saving her and that eventually led the clan to the jaws of death.

The kingdom has fallen. Now that there is no one to lead except the heir who disappeared and is probably lying somewhere dead, cold and stiff among the thousands and thousands of dead and bloodied warriors. The silent death clan will claim the throne as the void doesn't want any part in it. The void and the silent death clan killed most of the reapers and the ones that lived will probably be sold to s*****y or killed.

I don’t know how it came to this. I don’t know what will happen next. The only thing I know is the worst is yet to come.

Lester told me he would be back in a few days as he had to deal with some men who were a threat against the kingdom. The King demanded his presence in the court. And, I believed him even though I knew Lester and Mikael were always at each other’s neck. Still, I believed him. I should have asked him. I should have dug deeper but I didn't. I’m such a fool.

How can I accept that my mate, who is going to be a father in a few months, killed the King, my best-friend and my first love? I never loved Lester, but I still accepted that Lester was my mate and tried to love him. When I accepted him as my mate, my father passed the clan leadership to Lester. I couldn’t claim my rights as a Head of the Void because a woman was never treated as an equal in Phasyria. I don’t know why things were never in my favor. Maybe I will never know.

I’m 2 and a half months along. When Elias was born, Mikael and Elyssa wanted me to be the little bundle of joy’s godmother. I was in seventh heaven. Even though Elyssa and I had our differences, we got along for the sake of Mikael and later for Elias.

I loved Mikael, but I loved Elias more. He was such a sweet little child. So pure and innocent. It was a shame what he had to go through at such a young age. My heart bled when he cried for his parents. As his godmother, I took a blood oath to be Elias’s protector, but I failed. I failed terribly.

Now that he is nowhere to be found, I’m scared for my unborn child. Because if he dies, I’ll either bleed and lose my child or I’ll lose my powers, which means my child will be born human and he will be treated like a reject for the rest of his/her life in the Void clan. I don’t want either of those.

I have to find him. I have to save Elias.

End of the log:

Bloody hell. Seems like a hell of a war.

What’s with the weird date? 3017, really.

And what is that, a born human? What the hell? The narrator seems to be stuck in her wild imagination of the supernatural. Interesting!

Did the owner of the journal come from the future? The journal seems much more of a fantasy than a logbook. But whatever. Who knows what the writer was thinking?

I glanced towards the wall clock. It was 5 in the evening, as if my stomach suddenly remembered it growled in hunger. Time flew by so fast. Picking up the journal, I peeked out of the window. The peter patter of the rain drops subsided and the trees around seemed more lively and fresh. Even with the window closed, I could smell the freshness in the air.

Deciding to feed some food to my hungry stomach, I walked towards the bedroom and tossed the journal on my bed. Opening the window of the bedroom to let in the fresh air, I trudged towards the kitchen as I thought of whatever the hell I read in the journal.

I made Mac and cheese with Caesar salad. An easy and a quick fix. Devouring the food hungrily, I recalled calling mum and dad. Probably, they will be free this time and I could talk to them.

After I had my fill, I called my mum and we talked for hours about anything and everything. The town that I didn’t explore, the neighbors I haven't met yet and, obviously, my job and the environment here.

As I talked to her, I didn't know when I drifted into a peaceful slumber.