Morrigan

Chapter 3 - Rebirth

The Julian year 1543.

Greece, at the foot of Mount Olympus.

The sky to the east burst with tints of bright orange and shades of pink. The break of a new dawn loomed on the horizon.

The Guardians lazily lounged in the Pantheon, built on top of Mount Olympus. They were bored but couldn't care less for the mundane world below. Humans never did anything exciting or of interest to them—nothing more than ants scurrying about.

The Guardians did not possess a corporeal form, they were entities of energy—higher beings of consciousness. Collectively they governed the natural world but neglected to set the boundaries for the supernaturals, who abused the lack of order.

The Guardians were not malicious by nature. It was simply their complete lack of empathy that made their black-and-white logic cruel. They governed the simple laws of nature; the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, the waters rise and lower with the tides, and the moon cycles according to phases. It was the complexity of life, of being mortal and racing against time that they did not care to humor.

This would soon change.

The Zaire Witch stood gazing up at Mount Olympus. The peak was lost to the clouds and no doubt forbidden to mortals. She felt out of place; she rarely left the depths of the jungle.

Almost ten months had passed since the night on the bank of the Zaire River. The echoing screams of labor pains were proof of the ritual's success. The Rocs she and the chosen bloodlines traveled on sat perched on the fallen pillars of ancient temples. The gigantic birds watched the spectacle with curious beady eyes.

The Zaire Witch thought this to be the most fitting place for the birth of the new Keepers, as they would rise to rule alongside the Guardians. A risk indeed, but she could not resist the urge to taunt the lackluster Guardians.

The Keepers were to bring a just balance to the world—a bridge between mortals, supernaturals, and the laws of nature.

The sun crested, piercing through the last fringe of darkness, and bathed the landscape in its warm radiance. The screams of labor finally fell silent with the break of dawn.

A new day. A new hope.

The rays kissed the skin of the six newborns. Three sets of twins breathed their first breath with a cry.

The mothers wrapped the newborns in white linen and laid them at the Zaire Witch's feet. She gazed down upon the twins who quieted when the earth below them trembled, hushing them.

The sun rose higher. She started chanting the various incantations, mere whispers that fell from her lips in black smoky tendrils. The incantations, both a curse and a blessing, would seal each Keeper's destiny.

The first set of twins was named Carina, the keeper of hearts, and Ozul, the keeper of the nocturne.

The second set of twins was named Creed, the keeper of virtue, and Rebellyn the keeper of discord.

The last set of twins was named Uilliam, the keeper of creation, and Morrigan, the keeper of death.

The twins were marked by their names. Two runes were etched on the backs of each baby. A rune in the place of wings, setting them apart from the Nephilim and the humans.

The dark magic drained the Zaire Witch of her life force. She could feel her body falter with fatigue and the surrounding fauna and flora's reluctance to lend her any more energy. Blood slowly dripped from her nose. Her eyes rolled back into her head before she whispered the last of the incantations.

"Magister elementorum et supernaturalium." She proclaimed them masters of the elements and supernaturals.

A tremor could be felt rippling through Olympus, followed by a deep subterranean groan from the depths of the earth.

"Magister sensuum et affectuum." She proclaimed them masters of the senses and emotions.

A low hum sounded. It intensified and reverberated through their skulls, forcing them to cover their ears. Goosebumps rose on their flesh.

Each Keeper would develop unique supernatural abilities that would aid them on their quests.

The Zaire Witch sagged to the ground, completely drained. Blood dripped down her chin in crimson streaks.

It was done—irrevocably.

The Guardians stirred within the Pantheon. Their unease was palpable in the waves of static rolling down the mountain.

The Zaire Witch smiled, lifting her gaze to the obscured maintain peak.

They were too late. Their lack of interest cost them dearly.

The Zaire Witch felt depleted. But there was one last spell to ensure the safety of the Keepers. She used the last of her magic to teleport the Keepers, scattering the twins and their parents across the world.

In the blink of an eye, they were all gone. The shrill cries of the newborn Keepers were gone and for a moment the silence was deafening.

The Zaire Witch stood alone beneath the crushing wrath of the Guardians.

For the first time in millennia, the Guardians left the Pantheon and descended Olympus.

The Zaire Witch found herself quivering in their presence. The bright light emanating from them was blinding. She lifted her hands to shield her eyes from it. The pure energy of the Guardians morphed into humanoid shapes that stood twelve feet tall.

"What abominations have you set loose upon this earth?" A conglomerate of voices sounded in her head.

She grabbed at her skull in a futile attempt to ease the splitting pain. Being in the Guardians' presence was more than even she could bear.

She laughed deliriously. This was her last moment. "Change is inevitable. The Keepers will rise and rule alongside you," she said struggling to her knees, "Olympus will have twelve reigning powers."

Those were her last words.

The white light engulfed her and completely consumed her.

The Zaire Witch was no more.