21
Connor”s head throbbed as if a thousand hammers were pounding against his skull. His body ached, and his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. The taste of dirt and the acrid scent of decay filled his nostrils, making his stomach churn. Grit pressed against his lips, and he coughed, choking on the bitter grit, struggling to breathe.
”Easy now,” Ronan”s face was blurry through the haze, but Connor could make out his dark hair and kind expression as he leaned over him, a source of comfort in the midst of the pain.
Connor”s eyes were forced open, fighting against the blinding rays of sunlight that seemed to assault him from every angle. The world spun violently and nausea threatened to overtake him as he struggled to determine which way was up. With a sudden jolt, the ground beneath him shifted and settled, bringing a sense of stability to his disoriented body. His back lay partially buried in dirt and debris, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable in this unfamiliar landscape.
”Here.” Ronan held out a hand, offering assistance. Connor hesitated, still reeling from his disorientation, before grasping hold. With Ronan”s help, he managed to sit up and take in his surroundings.
He was no longer imprisoned in the cold, dank grave. Gone were the suffocating confines of darkness and damp soil. Instead, he found himself standing on a grassy hillside, the open expanse stretching out before him. Connor took a long, deep breath, savoring the cool, crisp air that filled his lungs. It carried with it the faint scent of damp earth, a reminder of where he had just been. But now, surrounded by sunlight and nature, he felt a sense of relief flood over him. And as he looked towards the man who had dug him out and saved his life, a wave of gratitude washed over him.
”Thank you, Ronan,” he croaked, his voice raspy and strained.
”Of course,” Ronan replied with a solemn nod. ”Now, spit out that breathing straw and let”s get you cleaned up.”
It was still there, stuck to his dry mouth at the edge of his lip. Connor did as he was told, the hollow reed dropping from his lips to the ground beside him. He wiped at his face, trying to brush off the worst of the dirt that clung stubbornly to his skin. His hands trembled, the realization of what had just happened – and what it meant for his future – beginning to sink in.
”I don”t know what to say,” Connor murmured, his eyes meeting those of his rescuer. The immortal”s gaze was steady, understanding.
”Nothing needs to be said,” Ronan assured him, clapping a hand on Connor”s shoulder. ”You”re alive, and that”s all that matters.”
Connor”s hands shook as he brushed off the dirt from his clothes. His heart pounded. He looked over at his companion, who seemed unsurprised that he managed to crawl out of the grave alive. In fact, the man behaved as if it were an ordinary thing, as if immortality was an inevitable result. Yet they both knew that even though he survived, his life would never be the same again. As he stood up, covered in dirt and sweat, he flinched at the sunlight. And in that moment, he felt something inside him shift and change, as if he had been reborn into a whole new existence.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting its final rays of light upon the hillside. He stood beside Ronan, dirt still clinging to his clothes and skin, as he gazed upon the world around him with renewed eyes.
”Connor,” Ronan began, his voice firm, ”this is a new beginning for you. You”ve been given a rare gift – immortality. The darkness of the grave is behind you, and now you have the opportunity to start anew.”
Despite Ronan”s reassuring words, a persistent feeling of doubt gnawed at the edges of Connor”s mind. How could he trust a man who had seemingly appeared out of thin air to guide him into the life of immortality? And yet, there was no denying the undeniable truth - Connor was now immortal, a state that Ronan claimed to share. The reality of it all left Connor with an unsettling undertone of fear and awe, like standing on the edge of a steep cliff with only a flimsy safety harness keeping him from falling into the unknown depths below.
”Remember,” Ronan continued, sensing his hesitation, ”withstanding the trial of the grave is just the start. There are more challenges ahead, and I will guide you through them.”
Connor swallowed hard, considering his options. He knew that going back to his old life was impossible, and facing the unknown seemed terrifying. But what choice did he have?
”Can I... can I see my sister again?” he asked hesitantly.
Ronan”s eyes softened, but his response was firm. ”I”m afraid not. Your sister believes you to be dead, and it would only bring her pain and confusion to see you now. Your appearance would disrupt her timeline. As an immortal, you must accept the limitations of your new existence. We do not interfere with the natural order of things.”
Connor”s heart sank as Ronan”s words hit home. The weight of his new reality crushed him, but he knew it was the only way to keep his sister safe. He wished he could embrace her one last time, meet her children, share her life. Although he understood all along he would give his life so she and her family could have theirs, it still pained him. But the thought of putting her—or her family—in harm”s way was unbearable. With a heavy heart and a nod of understanding, he accepted the harsh truth and turned to face his new life alone.
”Alright, Ronan,” he said, his voice resolute. ”I”ll follow your guidance. Just tell me what I must do.”
Ronan”s eyes glittered with a hint of pride as he clasped Connor on the back. ”We will forge a new path for you, my friend. One that is brimming with purpose and meaning.”
And so, as the sun sank below the horizon, the immortal journey of Connor began – birthed from the depths of the grave and propelled forward by the alluring promise of a new beginning on the horizon. The sky was painted with vibrant hues of orange and purple, while the gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers to their ears. It was a moment of rebirth, as Connor stepped forward into his unknown future with Ronan—an Immortal Blooded One— at his side.
As they traveled and time went on, Connor was consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting urges. The grief for the life he left behind was a heavy weight in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him at any moment. But it was also accompanied by a strumming of excitement coursing through his veins, reminding him of the endless possibilities that lay ahead as an immortal. It was empowering, giving him a sense of purpose unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
”Ronan,” he began, his voice hesitant, ”you said there are others like us – other immortals sworn to protect the secrets of our kind?”
”Yes,” Ronan replied, his tone solemn. ”We are part of a brotherhood, my friend. A group of dedicated individuals who have chosen to use their immortality for the greater good. Our role is crucial, Connor, and you will soon come to understand just how important it truly is.”
With each passing mile, the landscape seemed to shift and change, almost as if it was becoming a reflection of his inner turmoil. He felt the weight of history bearing down on him like a burden, the sheer enormity of his new responsibilities nearly overwhelming. As a Keeper, he knew he held the fate of the world in his hands, and the gravity of this duty both humbled and inspired him. Despite any doubts or fears he may have had, he was determined to prove himself worthy of the trust Ronan and the others had placed in him. With every step forward, he could feel the weight of destiny pulling him closer to his ultimate purpose. All that he had endured meant something, he was certain. His life was intended for more.
”An important task lies before you,” Ronan explained. ”One that will set the course for the rest of your immortal life. I cannot reveal all the details just yet, but know that you have been chosen for this because of your strength, your courage, and your honor as a Blooded One.”
He took comfort in Ronan”s words, even as a flicker of doubt danced within his mind. He knew he was no hero – not yet, at least – but he was determined to become one. And as they continued their journey toward Pennsylvania, his resolve only grew stronger.
When they finally arrived, Connor stood in awe as he gazed upon the sprawling mansion estate, still in its early stages of construction. The year was 1656, and the grandeur of the place seemed to transcend time itself. The stately stone facade rose proudly above the rolling hills of the countryside, adorned with intricate details and soaring towers that stretched towards the sky. From below, the construction site was a flurry of activity as workers bustled about, their voices echoing off the walls as they laid bricks, chiseled wood, and hoisted heavy beams into place. From the towering arches to the delicate carvings, it was a masterpiece in every sense of the word.
”Welcome to our sanctuary,” Ronan said, his voice filled with pride. ”This will be our home, and the heart of our brotherhood here in the Americas. There are other immortals who will come, but we are the first.”
“Others? From where?” Connor asked.
“We are not the only ones of our kind. Most clans live across the sea. I stayed with a clan in Scotland for many years. Julius lingered with the Roman immortals for a time. This is not only a new beginning for you, but for us, as well. We mean to make our own history, right here, on the ground beneath our feet.”
As they approached the bustling site, Connor could feel the anticipation in the air; the workers moved with purpose, their eyes gleaming with determination. It was as if the very walls of the mansion held the promise of a new beginning for them all – a chance to leave the darkness of the grave behind and embrace the uncharted path that lay ahead.
”Come,” Ronan urged, leading Connor through the throng of laborers and toward the entrance of the manor. ”It”s time you met the others.”
Connor cautiously stepped into the dimly lit interior of the unfinished structure. Shadows danced across the rough stone walls, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and burning candles. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a group of powerful figures standing together, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. At the center of it all stood Julius, his towering frame and sharp features creating an imposing presence. Connor could feel the ancient energy radiating from him, and despite his cold demeanor, there was something undeniably alluring about him. With a grudging nod, Julius extended his hand to welcome Connor as one of their own, sealing his fate as a member of the immortal Blooded Ones. The secrets of centuries past seemed to echo through the very walls of this sacred space.
”Ronan speaks highly of you,” Julius said, his voice icy but measured. ”I hope you prove worthy of his faith.”
”Thank you,” Connor replied, his voice firm and steady. ”I have no intention of letting him, or any of you, down.”
Connor sat around the fire with his fellow immortals, their ageless faces lit by the dancing flames. They took turns sharing stories of their past lives - some filled with daring adventures and triumphant victories, others with heart-wrenching tragedies and painful regrets. Despite their different experiences, there was a strong sense of understanding and camaraderie among them. As they laughed and commiserated together, Connor felt a deep sense of brotherhood and belonging that he had never experienced before. It was as if time had no hold over them, and in that moment, they were simply a group of kindred souls united by their eternal existence. For the first time since becoming immortal, Connor felt at peace. He was ready to embrace it.
”Connor,” Ronan said, clapping him on the shoulder. ”You are one of us now.”
”Thank you, Ronan,” he whispered, his voice thick. ”I won”t let you down.”
”Of that, I have no doubt,” Ronan replied, his eyes twinkling. ”Welcome home, brother.”
Connor stood on the newly completed balcony, his gaze lingering on the horizon as the warm hues of twilight enveloped him. The air was charged with an undercurrent of urgency, both for the completion of the remainder of the estate and the tasks that lay before him.
”Connor,” Ronan called from inside the room, beckoning him to join the others. ”It”s time.”
As he pivoted on his heel and strode back into the opulent chamber, the weight of his newfound position bore down upon him like a luxurious but suffocating cloak. Julius, the enigmatic and strikingly stoic scientist, leaned casually against a smooth, marbled pillar. His intense gaze locked onto Connor”s, sending a silent message of challenge and scrutiny. Connor couldn”t help but feel a surge of nerves under the piercing stare, but he held himself tall and offered a crisp nod of acknowledgement. The room was newly filled with opulence and extravagance, from its ornate furnishings to its glittering chandeliers, making it clear that this was a place reserved for only the most elite individuals in immortal society. And now, Connor had been granted entrance into this exclusive world.
”Your first assignment begins now,” Ronan announced, his voice firm. ”As a Keeper, it is your duty to protect the secrets of our kind and ensure our survival. And there is someone who desperately needs our help.”
”Who?” Connor asked, excited yet apprehensive at the prospect of his first mission.
”Her name is Joslyn,” Julius interjected, his tone laced with disapproval. ”She”s the illegitimate daughter of Alina Emry—a Blooded One—and the rebel leader Nathaniel Bacon, and she is in grave danger.”
”Joslyn has recently become a widow,” Ronan added, his expression somber. ”Both her parents and then her husband succumbed to the fever, leaving her utterly alone. In her desperation, she made a fateful decision – one that could have dire consequences for us all.”
”What did she do?” Connor inquired, his heart pounding with trepidation.
”I blame her family. Blooded Ones in her time hide their powers, and they have abandoned studying the ways of their kind. They pretend to be simple mortals, when they are anything but that. Knowledge is lost with each generation, and that is when things like this happen,” Julius replied, his voice tinged with contempt. “Joslyn has come into possession of a bloodstone dagger. She recklessly used it in her grief and sent herself to 1986. But she doesn”t understand the magic she”s tampering with, and her actions risk disrupting multiple timelines.”
”Your task,” Ronan continued, his eyes locking onto Connor”s with unwavering intensity, ”is to retrieve Joslyn and bring her to safety. We cannot allow her to jeopardize the balance of time.”
”Understood,” Connor replied, his jaw set with determination. He knew the weight of this mission was immense, but he would not falter. This was his purpose now – his duty as a Keeper.
”Remember,” Julius warned as Connor prepared to embark on his journey, ”you are not only responsible for Joslyn”s safety, but also for maintaining the integrity of history. Do not underestimate the gravity of your actions.”
”I won”t,” Connor promised, acutely aware of his responsibilities. With a final glance back at his newfound family, he stepped into the unknown, ready to face whatever awaited him in 1986.
Connor”s hand trembled as he reached for the ancient tome, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into its leather cover. As he flipped through the pages, he tried to steady his breathing. This was his first duty as a Keeper, and the weight of responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders. He scanned the text and confirmed that he would find the errant Time Walker in the same place she left; she had used the Bloodstone, and it simply transported her forward in time, in the very spot she stood. He closed the book and tucked it back in the knapsack hanging from his shoulder.
The thought of Joslyn, a woman alone in a strange time who had made a terrible mistake, gave him pause. Her mistake could have been a deadly one—what if the home she lived in no longer stood, or she was transported through time into the middle of a busy highway, in front of an eighteen-wheeler? The other were right when they spoke of duty, of responsibility. As time marched on, and the families of Blooded Ones assimilated to their surroundings, they forgot the ancient ways and ignored the tenements of their kind. Connor couldn”t afford to fail Joslyn or any of the others whose fates were tied to the flow of time. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was to come.
As Connor stepped closer to what used to be Joslyn”s Philadelphia home, the stench of decay overwhelmed him. The walls were reduced to rubble, and the only remaining structure was a skeleton of fallen stones. Thick vines snaked their way through the cracks in the foundation, gripping tightly in an attempt to reclaim what once belonged to nature. This decaying house stood as a somber reminder that nothing lasts forever, not even the grandest of human creations.
Connor paused, taking in the desolation that now gripped this place. It seemed impossible that anyone, let alone someone as vibrant and full of life as Joslyn, could be dwelling within. Yet, he knew she was here, hiding amongst the ruins and the memories they held. He steeled himself, knowing that it was his duty to bring her back, for her own safety and for the sake of the timelines she had disrupted.
With each careful step over fallen beams and debris, Connor”s eyes scanned the dilapidated room until he caught sight of her. She sat trembling in a corner of what was once the grand parlor, her delicate features marred by streaks of tears and dirt. Her gaze met his, fear lingering in her wide, guarded eyes. In that moment, a fierce protectiveness pulsed through him, overwhelming him with a desire to shield her from any harm.
”Joslyn,” he called softly, not wanting to startle her. ”It”s alright. I”m here to help you.”
”Who are you?” she demanded, her voice quivering with barely-concealed terror.
”My name is Connor,” he replied, his tone gentle. ”I”ve been sent to bring you back. You”re not safe here.”
”Back where?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, her body tensing as if preparing to flee or fight.
”Somewhere safe,” he promised, inching closer. ”Where you”ll be protected, and where your actions won”t have such dire consequences. You’ve traveled far from your own time. You’re in the year 1986.”
Her gaze never left his as she weighed his words, searching for some hidden deceit within them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she whispered, ”I didn’t mean to come here. I just don”t want to be alone anymore.”
”You won”t be,” he assured her. ”You”ll be surrounded by people who will care for and protect you. And I”ll be there too, watching over you.”
”Why should I trust you?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
”Time will prove my intentions,” Connor replied solemnly. ”I’m bound to protect you. I am a Blooded One, the same as you.” He left out the fact that he was not exactly like her, an issue they could discuss once he gained her trust.
Joslyn took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging with the weight of the decision before her. With a determined nod, she rose from her corner, steeling herself. Connor couldn”t help but admire her courage in the face of the unknown, her decision to survive and find her place in a world that had been unkind to her at every turn.
”Alright,” she said, her voice firm. ”I will go with you.”
As they prepared to leave the crumbling ruins behind, Connor felt a sense of awe at the woman beside him. She was an echo of resilience, a quality that he knew would serve her well in the uncertain future that awaited her.
“Wait,” she said. “I can’t leave yet.”
A shaft of sunlight pierced through the remnants of a shattered window, casting a warm glow on Joslyn”s face as she carefully removed a hidden panel in the wall in the middle of the room. The dust floated around her like tiny motes of light, and Connor stood transfixed by her delicate movements, unable to tear his gaze away from her.
”Look at this,” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder. Behind the panel, a painting was revealed – a stunning landscape that seemed to glow with an inner fire. Joslyn traced a finger along its intricate frame, her eyes dark with sadness.
”Who painted it?” Connor asked carefully as he watched her examine the artwork. He knew he should be focusing on their mission, but there was something about Joslyn that drew him in, captivating him in a way he couldn”t quite understand.
”My cousin,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. ”He was a brother to me. He died before I was married. His parents could not bear to look at it, but I brought it with me—to remember him. I cannot leave it. It is all I have left of this—this place,” she said, swinging her arm out at the ruins around them.
Connor moved closer, taking in the exquisite details of the painting. He could sense the depth of emotion that lay beneath the surface, and he found himself wanting to learn more about this mysterious figure from the past who painted it. But he also knew that he needed to maintain his focus on the task at hand.
”Joslyn,” he said gently, ”we need to go. It’s not safe here. We’ll take it with us, but we must leave now.”
Her eyes clouded over for a moment, and then she nodded, a determined set to her jaw. ”You”re right,” she agreed, her voice steady.
As he removed the painting from the wall and they prepared to depart, his mind was in turmoil. As a Keeper, his duty was to protect and prioritize the secrets of their kind above all else. But there was something about Joslyn that ignited a longing in him, a desire to break the rules. His heart thudded madly behind his ribs as he gazed at her, and he struggled to reconcile those thoughts. Every fiber of his being wanted the chance to be more to her, but his sense of duty held him back. He knew he needed to find a way to remain steadfast to his responsibilities before it was too late.
”Thank you, Connor,” she said.
As they left the ruins of her home behind them, the weight of his dual obligations settled heavily upon his shoulders. The tension between his duty and his desires was a new complication, but he knew that he couldn”t afford to waver.
He would protect Joslyn, no matter the cost. And as they embarked on this new chapter of his immortal life, Connor vowed to stay focused on the mission that had led him to her in the first place – even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness along the way.