Bloodline's Awakening

Chapter 2: The Ceremony

Luna 🌑

As the moon rose high, casting silvery light over the clearing, I stood there, an observer among the sacred circle. The air hummed with ancient magic, and my heart beat in rhythm with the distant drumming. Tonight was more than just a ceremony; it was a pivotal moment in the lineage of our family.

Usually there were ten Slayer Houses, with the Deveraux's being the head of all of the clans. But tonight only nine of us stood in this dense forest, safeguarding this sacred ritual.

I felt like a shadow next to Aurora's radiance. Her dark brown hair shimmered under the moonlight, and her eyes sparkled with the promise of the power she was about to receive. She was more than excited to continue the legacy of guardianship for our realm and I truly believed she was ready.

The elders, robed in black garments that whispered of forgotten times, formed a circle around us. They began their chants, a haunting melody that seemed to weave through the very fabric of the night. Grandmother Solstice, a figure of majestic grace with her dark skin and gray afro, stepped into the center of the circle with Aurora. She was a vision of wisdom, her almost black eyes reflecting the knowledge of ages.

The ritual was a tapestry of intricate steps and sacred words, passed down through generations. Dressed in all white, Grandmother Solstice lit the ceremonial incense, its smoke spiraling up towards the stars, and then drew the circle of protection with salt and herbs. Aurora, also dressed in all white, stood in the center, her eyes closed, her pretty face serene, ready to accept the mantle of her destiny.

As Grandmother raised her hands, palms glowing with red ethereal light, a sudden gust of wind swirled around us, disturbing the sacred circle. The moonlight intensified, casting an otherworldly glow over the grove.

I felt an invisible force, like the hands of destiny itself, pushing me forward into the circle. My feet moved against my will, drawing me into the heart of the ritual. The power, a torrent of warm, pulsating light, coursed through me, binding itself to my very soul. I was consumed by a sensation of profound connection to the moon and the earth, a feeling both exhilarating and overwhelming. I tried to pull away from the force, but it was of no use. I was being consumed unwillingly.

Aurora stood frozen, her expression a complex tapestry of shock, hurt, and confusion. My grandmother, so entranced in the ritual, with eyes glowing red, clearly had no clue what was taking place as she continued to release her ancient magical powers.

I glanced around, reaching my hands out to anything and anyone who would stop what was happening; maybe even stop the ritual if they needed to. But instead of ending the ceremony, the elders simply exchanged looks of disbelief and awe, their murmured words lost in the whirlwind of magic that had taken hold of the grove. To my utter shock, the stream of magical energy, a radiant cascade of red light, veered away from Aurora and enveloped my body instead.

I wasn't prepared for this, for any of it. But the moment my grandmother's powers entered my body, I felt an overwhelming surge of power, a connection to the moon and the earth that rooted me to the spot. My body became a vessel of light, pulsating with a force that was both exhilarating and terrifying. I looked at Aurora, her expression was complete shock as tears streamed down her face.

The elders murmured amongst themselves, their eyes wide with astonishment.

"How is this possible?" one person exclaimed. "The power can only be passed to the firstborn daughter of a Devereaux," another person declared. Murmurs spread among the gathered houses as everyone was well aware of the established rules. The fact that the power was now pulsating through my body seemed utterly perplexing, unless... Just as a thought began to form in my mind and I glanced toward my mother, Grandmother Solstice, who looked to have aged in a matter of minutes, approached me. Her once robust touch was frail and gentle, and her voice conveyed a mixture of amazement and uncertainty. She softly said, "Luna, the moon has chosen you. You are now the guardian."

I stood there, my heart a tumult of emotions. This was supposed to be Aurora's destiny, not mine. But the power coursing through me felt as natural as breathing. I looked into Grandmother Solstice's eyes, finding an unspoken understanding there.

The ritual had taken an unforeseen turn, marking the beginning of a journey I never imagined for myself and never wanted. As the elders slowly accepted the moon's choice, I realized that my life would never be mine again.

AURORA

In this pivotal moment, my reaction was a complex mix of emotions that I knew played across my face like shifting shadows. As I stood amidst the murmuring crowd, my brows furrowed in deep thought, my once-confident demeanor now tinged with a deep sense of confusion and disbelief. I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from the power that had been my birthright for generations, now slipping through my grasp and settling upon my younger sister, Luna.

My fingers clenched involuntarily, my nails biting into my palm as I struggled to come to terms with the unexpected turn of events. I felt a profound sense of loss, as if a piece of my identity had been ripped away. The power had always been my destiny, my responsibility, and yet, it was Luna who had been chosen even though everyone knew she didn't want or deserve this responsibility.

As I observed Luna, who was now the center of attention and the new guardian, a mixture of jealousy, anger, confusion and sadness coursed through me. I couldn't deny the awe-inspiring magenta aura that surrounded Luna in this moment, and I couldn't help but wonder what it meant for our family's future. How could this have happened?

My gaze shifted towards our parents in that moment of upheaval, my mother's eyes shimmering with tears, while my father's knowing glare bore into her. Confusion and shock rippled through me as I grappled with the reality that had just unfolded. How could it be that the firstborn of a Deveraux had not been chosen as the guardian?

As thought entered my mind, a dawning realization struck me like a sledgehammer, leaving me breathless. I wasn't truly a Deveraux, was I? My gaze drifted from my father to my grandmother, and then downward to my own skin and hair. I scrutinized the features that set me apart from the Deveraux side of the family. My complexion was lighter, my hair less tightly curled. In that moment, a cascade of doubts flooded my mind.

Did these physical differences truly matter? Didn't I resemble my mother more closely, with only slight variations in skin tone and hair texture? I began to question the very essence of my identity, feeling a profound uncertainty about who I truly was and where I belonged in the intricate tapestry of my family's legacy.

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