Fallen Angel Reclaimed: The Complete Series by Lacey Carter Andersen
1
Many years ago…
Mark was justa boy when he came upon the forbidden waters in the sanctuary. The small pond, surrounded by a garden imbued with druid magic, was only for the Immortals to bathe within. Every druid knew that, from the time they could walk. And yet, he was drawn to this place. He always had been.
Mark stared into the simple pool, transfixed. When he set his staff down in the greenery, the plants rose from where they lay, curling around him like favorite pets. They tangled in greeting with the plants that grew upon his brown robe. Mark smiled and stroked the green leaves, reassuring them.
I’m not here to cause trouble.
The elders were busy, and for the first time since he could remember, no one was in this sacred place. I can finally get close enough to investigate.
He had no intention of touching the waters. Touching them meant death to any but the Immortals. He only wanted to look, to see why they called to him.
He told his father once that magic pulled him to it, that he had dreams of the water calling his name.
His father had placed a strong hand on his shoulder. “Druids are rare and precious things. There are few of us left. You are the only child to be born from your generation, and you will one day be responsible for protecting this sacred place and for leading your people.”
“But the waters—“
“Are not calling to you.” His father’s words left no room for arguments. “We druids do not interfere with the destiny of the world. We are here only to keep this place safe.”
“But why? You said the Immortals are long gone, and that Caine will rule forever. So if this place has no destiny, and we have no role to play in all of it, why does this place still exist? Why do we protect it?”
His father smiled, one of his rare smiles, and rubbed his son’s head. “My son, always so full of questions and curiosity. You make your father very proud.”
He smiled up at the man he worshipped with everything in him. The man who was all the family he had after his mother’s death. “And the answers to my questions?”
The old druid knelt down. “We keep this place sacred because it’s our role. It has always been our role. The long dead Immortals change none of that. We are one of only a handful of beings that remember a time before him—a time before he wiped the world of its memories. And so, we must remain here, and remember, but we take no action. Do you understand?”
He didn’t understand. What did it all matter if they kept this place safe for nothing? If they used their powers for nothing? What was the point in weaving their magic into sacred lands that Caine and his followers could never reach, if they had no one to protect?
But his father rose, and walked away, leaving him with troubling thoughts. He knew as a druid his job was to obey, and yet, even then, the waters called to him. They whispered of a destiny not yet fulfilled. And yet, he didn’t understand.
So now, with the elders finally busy, he knelt before the waters, hoping the sacred liquid would finally answer his questions. His fingers ached to touch the waters, to skim his fingertips across the top. Instead, he curled his fingers into his palm and stretched his senses out, feeling the power humming from his staff beside him, warming him.
He stared and stared. And yet, nothing happened. Nothing changed.
I guess my dreams of Immortals and destiny are nothing but that… dreams.
Grasping the handle on his staff, he rose. But to his horror, the top of his staff brushed the waters.
Heart beating fast, he looked between where the liquid slid down the dark wood of his most sacred item. Would the waters destroy it?
Beneath him, the pool began to bubble.
He took a step back, watching with wide eyes as the bubbles rose sharply, and then collapsed, leaving the water absolutely still.
A woman’s face appeared in the pool. Her hair was golden, and it flowed down her bare shoulders. Her eyes were strange… so powerful that they seemed to call to him.
“I am Atropos, the Fate of the past. And you, young druid, are going to change the world.”
He couldn’t speak, nor could he move. He simply stood, rooted in place, staring down at the face of a powerful being.
“Your role will not be easy, little one. In fact, we place a great deal on your shoulders. But believe me, it’s necessary. You’re the only one who can do it.”
“What?” he whispered, the word slipping past his lips.
“You will take our gift, and you will learn how to use it. And when the time is right, you shall find the Immortals and overthrow Caine.”
He inched closer to her. For some reason, he wasn’t afraid. Her words rang true down to his very soul. This is what the water had wanted from him all along. This is what his dreams had meant.
Her beautiful face curled into the saddest smile. “I’m sorry for the heartbreak this will cause. I’m sorry for how you will suffer. But Lachey, my sister, told me, long before her disappearance, that you will be rewarded in the end with the most precious thing in this world: love.”
Mark stared, unsure what to say.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The waters rose up like a hand and grasped him, dragging him down. He was trapped beneath the water, struggling for his life. For the first time, he knew real terror as bubbles of air left his mouth.
But there, before him, a necklace lifted up from the waters. It glowed softly, with an ancient magic. And the stone in the center glistened. It moved to encircle his neck, dropping onto him with a weight that surprised him.
He expected to escape the waters then, but he remained. Struggling, drowning, in fear for his life, until everything went black.
When he awoke, his people stood around him, the boy soaking wet beside a pool destined for Immortals. The pool would have killed any other creature, yet he was alive.
He tried to tell them, to show them, but none of them could see the necklace. He spoke of the Fate and his role in the future. He tried to convince them of what he knew.
The people drew away from him in fear, but he couldn’t stop sharing the message from the Fate. Days passed. Weeks passed.
At last, he was brought before the elders, before his father, to learn his fate.
They’d determined that he’d lost his mind. That he’d never fallen into the sacred waters. That he had no necklace, and no destiny.
And that he also no longer had a place amongst them.
When his father took Mark’s staff, Mark didn’t know what to expect. A staff was like a druid’s soul, carved for them at their birth. It grew as they grew, and it became more powerful as they did.
So as he stared at his father with the innocent eyes of a child, he didn’t know what to expect. When his father cracked his staff over his leg, the sound echoed through his very soul. He screamed and collapsed onto his knees, clawing at his chest until blood ran down his flesh.
When he lay upon the ground, scared in a way that no one could ever understand, the elders lifted him, while his father explained his exile. They carried him out of the sacred sanctuary, beyond the barrier that safeguarded their protected lands, and they dumped him beside a road.
None of them looked back as he called their names and wept.
Instead, he was a child alone in a world he didn’t understand, with the weight of the world around his neck.
Right then, he didn’t think about how he would find the Immortals or how he would defeat Caine. He only cried and begged for his father. Because even with such responsibility, he was just a boy.
