Prologue.

Louisiana, 30 years ago…

“What do you mean I can’t put my son in my stead? Every other member in this fucking fraternity has done it. Why should my case be any different?”

“Calm down Nicholas. Let’s listen to what ‘Gray Eyes’ has to say.”

“No! No, Doug! I have listened to you all this time and you had assured me I’d get all I desired, all I had to do was trust you. Well news flash Doug! I did. Now this fucking hag calls me here, telling me bullshit! I…”

“Enough, Nicholas Albert Bethel!” Gray Eyes barked, her voice, otherworldly.

Nicholas, stunned to silence by the voice dripping with terror, sank slowly onto a nearby plush burgundy velvet seat. The furniture mirroring the dark and ominous gothic design of the lavishly furnished room. Horror etched on his handsome fair face. Tremor passing through his entire body. Immobilizing him.

“Descendant of Charles Bethel… Or should I say Oba Eromon-se Ovu-rhe…” Gray Eyes said, icily.

Her Louisiana accent, sultry. Nicholas turned pale from the recollection of this particular name she mentioned. A name recapped in tales, passed down for generations in the Bethel family.

“H… How did you know that?” Nicholas asked, hoarsely. His throat dry. His eyes wide in shock.

The woman’s beautiful, olive face, worn down from advanced age, wore a slow creeping smile. Watching the effect of her words unravel Nicholas’ usual composed form.

“Didn’t you just call me a hag?” She pointedly said to Nicholas, sparing his companion, Douglas Artell, a brief glance.

Douglas watched the entire scene warily, knowing nothing seen or discussed within these walls was ever to reach outside the Orions fraternity. Nicholas’ face heated in embarrassment, as he sat back in his chair staring at her. The air thick with a strange, smelling incense.

“I’m Gray Eyes, Nicholas. I’m no push over. The Orions is a secret organization that has existed for two centuries and it has survived these years because we never interfere with the pure ones that belong to The Creator. And I aint gonna start, because of an insatiable, greedy man like you.”

“I… I am sorry…” Nicholas stuttered.

“Your son is a pure one. He has been marked, even before he entered your wife’s womb,” she said, walking away from her object of divination; water suspended as a portal in midair.

No one ever knew what she saw. All they saw was swirls of water suspended in midair in front of a wall. A water Oracle that had acquired her powers from female ancestors past.

They were called The Gray Eyes. Their identity lost to the real world the moment they ascended their duties. The waters claiming them when they died. Intermediaries to the underworld, but must never cross The Creator’s own pure ones, or their line ended forever. Eternally lost to the lips of mankind.

Nicholas’ face registered confusion.

Pure one?

“You cannot put him in your stead. Go. You already have enough wealth and connections. Don’t destroy this gift that The Creator has given you and your beautiful wife.” She said, slowly turning her back away. Her eyes focused on the future ahead, which she could already see.

Nicholas panicked, stumbling on his words; trying to get her to elaborate.

“Wa…wait…What do you mean? He’s just a 6-year-old boy that plays about and snorts around. What do you mean pure one? Plea… Please tell me…” He pleaded.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Douglas, seeing that Gray eyes had turned her back, knew there was no point staying.

“Come on Nick… We gotta go… Come on,” he said, pulling his struggling friend out of the room.

---

New York...

“Please Nicholas. You can’t possibly be planning to take a boy, who just turned six a month ago, to a private boarding school.” Isabel laughed, nervously. Her laugh not reaching her beautiful ocean blue eyes.

Nicholas turned his furious honey gold eyes to her. His gaze, cold from where he sat on his desk. Making phone calls since he returned this morning, from his trip.

Isabel startled at his icy glare. Unrecognizable. But she continued, shakily, knowing that her son was in danger if she allowed Nicholas’ decision.

“Besides Darling, you just got back from your business trip in Chicago. You haven’t even kissed me or told me about it. The last thing you need now is more stress.” Isabel continued, her eyes teary.

She shut them tightly. She didn’t want to cry in front of Nicholas.

Locking eyes with her, Isabel in that instant saw the air of an unidentifiable change that had invaded Nicholas in recent months. And now that change it seemed had come to stay. Taking down everything they had worked hard for.

Shifting her gaze to the photo of Nicholas and herself on his desk, Isabel wore her chin higher. Defiance whirling inside her, in her bid to save her dear son from the hands of her husband. Tears betrayed her. Streaming uncontrollably down her eyes as she spoke.

“I don’t recognize you Nicholas…” She started, hesitantly. Seeing the truth behind her husband's personality.

Her eyes flicked to her husband, who only stared condescendingly at her. “I am going to say this, for the sake of what I believe we share… or rather, once shared. Please, don’t send my Bertie to your sister in Pennsylvania… To a boarding school. He is too young and he still needs me. If you are upset with me…” She risked a furtive glance at Nicholas, who only sat still.

Recalling her elder brothers’ words about Nicholas, during their courtship, Isabel shuddered. They had warned her repeatedly against the marriage, because of his ambitious personality. They had heard so much about his inordinate ambition to accumulate wealth and dominate others around him. His craze to conquer the world. His desire to be the most feared among his peers. She had argued with them. Strongly protested against their words.

“Please, Nicholas.”

“Get Albert ready. My decision is final.”