One Possible Ending to Chaos

This is only a possibility if I can’t find anything else to replace it.

The story began with magic and I had planned to end it with magic but then, magic can be a very…bogus idea. Anyway, I wrote this and we’ll see what will come of the end of this story.
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White has a change of heart and ends up saving Alec and Max from the hands of the Conclave, but she is still mortally wounded and on verge of death. He kills himself, offering his own heart (as strong as, if not stronger than, a transgenic heart) to save her.

After the transplant, she begins having strange dreams, visions, if you will, of a past that is not hers and of a future with people, places and events unfamiliar. One of these visions includes the image of Sandeman Sr. splicing the transgenics’ DNA and fixing embryos. She tells Alec they need to find this Sandeman, especially after what White did for them.

Her meeting with Sandeman reveals some strange and unbelievable information.

“It was never only about blood, 452. There were three things that would set the Chosen apart from other Transgenics and simplify the search. Manticore had the subjects and facilities. They also had Elizabeth Renfro and Peter Sandoval, two top-ranking members of the Conclave. All they had to do was test each subject as they reached sexual maturity and again a few years later. If there were no major changes or problems, further tests would be conducted. Manticore found themselves at a dead end, having lost half a unit to the great unknown. They narrowed it down to that one unit. When Renfro and Sandoval couldn’t find the Chosen, they got sloppy.”

“What were the three indicators?

“First, there would be absolutely no junk DNA., ‘The Chosen will be perfect and unblemished’. Second, ‘A seer, aware of the end without knowing’; he or she would have visions, not memories or strange dreams, but actual visions of the future – that is why you started searching for me, is it not? And, lastly the heart. According to the prophecy, ‘The Chosen will have a change of heart, falling prey to the unfamiliar’. The Conclave believed the Chosen would turn against them and ruin five thousand years of planning. We, the Society, believed it would be something more physical. Such as a transplant. And you, my dear,” there was a pregnant pause, “fit all the criteria.

“Your DNA is flawless. You’ve had the visions, seen things that have only been whispered of, passed on from father to son, mother to daughter, for generations. And let us not forget, my own son sacrificed his life for you, gave you his heart, which in turn led you to me. The unfamiliar.

“Heed me now, child. You are my greatest achievement. Do not let my son’s death be in vain. After finally hearing the prophecy, something he’d been denied as an inferior, low-level follower, Ames came back, joined the Society and took his rightful place, by my side. He knew the risks going in. Remember his last words to you, my dear.”

She closed her eyes in remembrance.

“‘I once thought a world devoid of humans, ruled solely by the Familiar elite, was ideal. Until I heard of their plans to weed out the weaker of their own kind. What kind of world would that be? My own son would be killed. There is nothing in this world that could make me deny my son a future. I let them kill two and I swore, never again! They will not take the last one from me.

“My father told me that you are the future. That by fulfilling this prophesy my son will live. Swear to me, 452. Tell me you’ll give him a fighting chance. That you’ll win. Promise me this and I’ll gladly give my life for yours.”

She nodded mutely, not quite understanding what she was agreeing to.

White wasn’t satisfied with that, though. “Swear it!”

She swore the oath so quietly it could have been wind kissing his ear, but it was enough for him. And the echoing shot rang out through the room, followed by a heavy thud as his body hit the floor.

Ames White had killed himself, for her.

Max opened her eyes and shook her head.

“You can’t be serious! Do you really believe this crap, old man? This…prophecy?” she couldn’t keep the skepticism from her tone, the idea was just absurd. She snorted with disdain, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t believe in magic.”

“Stupid girl,” the white-haired professor hissed at her, “you need not believe, only perform.”

“How can I do something I don’t know anything about?”

“You can read, can’t you? Just chant the words. We’ll do the rest.”

“No. If it were just words, I would say fine. But you’re asking me to convince close to nine hundred of my people to trust you blindly. I don’t think so.”

“We’re running out of time!” he exclaimed worriedly. “What can I do to convince you?”

“Make me believe. Show me this…magic you’re talking about. Show me that it exists.”

Angrily, he shook his head. “Fine,” he groused, “give me your hand.”

Max offered her hand, palm up, to the man whose appearance suddenly seemed darker, more sinister. She tried to retract it, but he held firm.

“Wait, no! Let me go!” she demanded, desperately trying to shake free from his grasp.

Alec took a step forward, intending to help his mate, only to find himself blocked by an invisible shield.

“What the h-”

His eyes widened and he lost control of his voice, watching in fascination and more than a little fear as the elderly scientist drew a sharp blade quickly across Max’s palm, chanting unintelligibly. Her hand glowed brightly. The bright, red blood that had risen to the surface receded back into the skin, leaving a strangely shaped scar.

“What the hell did you just do to me?” Max spat from between clenched teeth.

“Made you what you were meant to be all along, dear child. The Chosen One, Priestess of Light.”

Sandeman turned to depart, leaving two stunned and confused Transgenics in his wake.

“Wait! Where do you think you’re going?! What is the Chosen One? What can I do?!”

“Oh, child, open your mind.”

Max stared dumbfounded at Sandeman. What was he talking about, open her mind? To what? For what? How?

Max turned to Alec whose eyes questioned that which she could not answer. Suddenly, Alec flew to her side, not blurring but almost gliding across the tiles with his feet not touching the ground, quicker than Max could even blink, and wrapped his mate in his arms.

“What? How-,” Alec sputtered and released Max. He knew he hadn’t had any intention to cross the room and that he had not made the move to get there, either. “What just happened?”

Max was baffled. “What do you mean? You hugged me.”

“I was minding my own business over there,” he pointed behind him to the space he had just vacated, “and now I’m,” he waved between their bodies.

“What?”

“Max, I didn’t come to you. I was dragged,” Alec clarified.

Dr. Sandeman smiled from the doorway.

“I told you, you are The One.”

“You’re telling me that I can move people?” Max asked anxiously.

“The tip of the iceberg, my dear. You can summon at will, banish at will… The full extent of your powers is yet to be revealed, but you are strong, child, a powerful priestess you will be.”

“What did you do to me?” she demanded angrily.

Sandeman smirked. “I unleashed a small portion of your powers to prove to you that magic does exist; just as you requested.”

Alec tilted his head in thought. “How? I’ve heard of small spells and Wiccan practices, but true powers? Witchcraft?”

Sandeman chuckled mirthfully. “Not witchcraft, son. Our powers are very different. You must understand, the Conclave began thousands of years ago when raw magic was still common. Seers, magicians, potions-,”

“Very Harry Potteresque,” Alec commented with a smirk.

“Not quite,” Sandeman replied, indulging the younger man’s humor. “If you trace magic back to the beginning of humankind, there are records of many great feats accomplished. The Egyptian Court had Royal sorcerers and seers who foretold and changed the future. Some people believe that the biblical prophets were not gifted with divine sight, but worked magicks to further advance themselves in society.

“Only after the magicks were diluted over time, and the people who were not powerful grew fearful of being harmed by those stronger than they, did magic become more of a myth and in many cases a social stigma that even resulted in murder.”

Alec and Max listened closely to the old man as he explained the origins of his kind.

“In ancient Crete there was a small community that worshipped the Goddess, Posidaija. The Minoan culture was different from modern day society and women held positions of importance above the men.

“There was a great seer in that village who had a vision of the future, some five thousand years away, in which her entire people would be wiped out by human hybrids of superior strength and power.

“This woman – you may have learned or read about her and her sister; they were the priestesses Diktynna and Britomartis?”

Max nodded. “Greek History, Mythology and Ancient Cultures. I never understood why it was part of the syllabus.”

Alec looked at her curiously.

“I took a history course at a local college for kicks.”

The old man cleared his throat, grabbing their attention once more, and continued.

“Diktynna described what she saw in her vision to Britomartis. The two gathered their families together, and called upon the entire community’s raw power. Using an ancient ritual using snake venom, which was often used on young children to determine their life span, they combined this magic and the powerful venom and bespelled their families with a power equal to – though some of our historians say it is greater than – your Transgenic abilities.

“So you see, the Conclave was born of magic. I, as part of this following, passed this on to you,” Sandeman concluded, smiling down at Max.

The two Transgenics were speechless.

“Now you see, my child, why you must convince your people to participate in this ritual. The Familiars’ strength, especially our Phallanx warriors, is superior to that of your people. The ceremony will establish you as their leader and empower them further so that you can defeat the Familiar army.”

Max was still uncertain but the power she felt humming in her veins, clawing at her from beneath the surface of her skin, made her wonder if it could really be possible.

Alec watched the emotions that flashed in his lover’s eyes. Since Sandeman did…whatever he’d done to Max, Alec had felt a new heat radiating from her skin, sensed a sort of vibe he couldn’t begin to explain. Could the old man really be telling the truth?

“Even if I get them to agree, how will I know what to do?” Max asked, finally.

“You will bring about the Coming, on schedule, and you will win. Your future and the future of your people will be safe, as well as the entire human race.”

“But how?” Alec and Max asked in unison.

The old man smiled benevolently, his eyes soft and the overall look he gave Max was infinitely gentle. “When the time comes, she will know,” he said cryptically. “Let her lead.”

Alec and Max exchanged a look of bewilderment before turning questioning eyes to the space Sandeman had occupied moments before. But it was too late.

He was gone.