Babel Novel
Chapter 25
"The different races dictated the Fate's words in their own way," Rune says, dismissing my attitude. "Werewolves maintained the story orally, speaking it to pups." "Singing," Zev corrects. "We pass on our history through song."
I make a mental note to start a karaoke night at Morgan's and force Zev to sing this prophecy in wolf form.
"Very well," Rune says, "sung by the wolves. Fae, as Zev mentioned, wrote fastidious notes, and the vampires tasked a group of immortals to preserve the story. Aside from a slight discrepancy here or there, each of the three races maintains a similar version of the Fates' original decree."
"So, wait..." I'm now invested in the story and want to parse out some details. "What about witches? We've got three races invented by witches. Did the Fates forget to, you know, have babies or something?"
Rune shifts in his seat, brow furrowed as he thinks of the best way to answer me. Zev laughs again, and I swear he does this in the sexiest way possible, like he's rehearsed sexy laughs in the mirror so much that it now seems totally natural. But there's nothing natural about his level of sexiness. Nothing.
"The Fates did indeed spawn more witches," Zev says. "For many ages they were the most powerful race, then they stood on an equal plane for centuries as the other races grew and eventually began to outnumber the witches. Then..." He drifts off, his gaze shifting toward the increasingly uncomfortable Rune.
"Until what?" I ask, my eyes spending way too much time on Zev in the rearview mirror and not enough time on the road.
Rune takes his cue from Zev and picks up the story, though it clearly pains him to do so.
"A feud began between the fae and the witches, over the rights to some of nature's gifts."
"The fae began killing witches for their land and the magical materials they cultivated," Zev says, clearly annoyed at Rune's milder retelling.
"Which led to the vampires taking advantage of a weakened race," Rune says, "and enjoying the powerful blood of witches fleeing the war. And, unless I'm mistaken, many a wolf helped the vampires with their tracking during that era."
Now it's Zev who's looking out the window, unhappy with the truth that's just been leveled at him. I feel like they're both too close to the story and need a third party's summation.
"So... you shit-birds killed all the witches?"
"Not all," Rune quickly explains. "Once the vampires began to attack, a great many witches came to Earth, taking human form as we have done, and beginning new lives amongst your kind. They came to this very continent, around the same time as the Europeans, hoping to find a new world of their own."
When the story transitions from a magical realm I can't quite fathom to the land where pilgrims and puritans settled--where I grew up and studied the local history--a circuit breaker trips in my brain.
"Hang on... that witch shit from the 1600s was... that was real?"
Rune slowly shakes his head, giving Zev the opportunity to jump in.
"Yes and no," the werewolf says. "Witches were here, living alongside and even marrying humans. However, it was almost exclusively human women burned in your horrific trials."
"Easy there," I fire back, not wanting to be lumped in with the old white men who burned women at the stake because they were afraid of getting boners. "Those weren't my trials. But please, continue."
"Vampires tracked the witches to
this world," Zev says, "now constantly thirsting for their blood. Once the rumor of witches spread it was the vampires who took human form and pointed fingers at ordinary women, even controlling minds
during the trials to create the needed spectacle."
I've known witches were real for a few hours, and I'm already ready to kick Darius square in the balls for what his kind did.
"Okay," I say, trying to put things
back on track as I notice our exit is
approaching. "That's super fascinating and I want to hear more, but how does this tie in to present day? Why are the races fighting, and what in God's name does it have to do with my baby?"
"If you'll remember back to the beginning of the story," Rune says with a professorial nod, happy to connect the dots for me, "the Fates created us all. They are inextricably tied to each race... and we to them. As they died out, hardships engulfed each kingdom, and the elders who had been crying about the prophecy for generations were finally heard." Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.
"Each version of the prophecy," Zev explains slowly, giving my human brain a little breathing room as it processes the wildest shit I've ever heard, "acknowledges that if the witches die, so will all the beings they created." I look from Zev to Rune, and they both return sullen stares, waiting for me to speak.
"I take it a lot of the witches have died?"
They both nod, then Zev speaks in a softer voice than I've heard him use previously.
"There are no more in our world, and very few here. Few enough... " he pauses, giving his words extra weight. "That we've come to the final part of the prophecy."
I can tell Zev is just going to stare at me until I guess again, so I turn to Rune in hopes he'll just spill the goddamn beans. The sweet and sexy fae doesn't disappoint.
"When the Last Witch is born," he says, as though reciting the thesis for his doctorate, "the kingdom that harnesses her life will survive while the others perish." His words filter slowly through my ears and into my brain, with only one phrase having a lasting impact: The Last Witch?