Morgan Rice - Destined

Finally, she was not alone.

Caitlin and Blake held hands as they exited his palace and made their way down the endless marble staircase. She felt like a new woman. She had bathed in the enormous bathtub, and had changed into a new outfit that Blake had given to her. He had actually laid out several outfits for her. She had chosen a simple, black one, not too tight, one which was elegant and yet which seemed to fit in with the times. It had long, black pants, and a light, long-sleeved shirt, all black and all made of a silky material. The outfit was completed by a pair of open-toed sandals. She ached to see what she looked like in a mirror.

She wondered briefly why Blake had all those clothes, but she didn’t want to ask, to ruin the moment. After all, she figured, he had been alive for thousands of years, and it was only natural for him to have had past relationships. It didn’t bother her, and she was grateful for the clothes.

As they headed down the road, towards the river, it widened, and became busier, the occasional person and horse accompanying them. They blended into the crowd and, held hands. She looked up, and was glad to see that his wound had already healed.

They walked across the small bridge, crossing the river Arno for Florence.

“The Ponte Vecchio,” Blake said.

Caitlin looked over at him. He looked happy and content, in his element.

“It is known as ‘the gold bridge.’ See the merchants? All the little tables? This is where they sell gold. The finest gold in all of Europe. It is not only the entry bridge to Florence, but it also happens to be the place to come for jewelry.”

As they strolled across the bridge, offering an incredible view of the water and the city, Caitlin looked closely: small tables lined the bridge, around which stood merchants and customers, all examining various piece of jewelry.

He took her hand, and led her to a small booth.

She looked down, and was amazed to see it filled with gold bracelets, necklaces, rings, pendants… They all shone in the light.

Caitlin fingered a bracelet.

“Try it on,” he said, smiling.

She shook her head and put it back. “I was just looking. I don’t have any money.”

He picked it up.

“ Please ,” he pleaded. “Money is no issue for our kind. I have money enough to last one thousand lifetimes, and one thousand more.”

Caitlin hesitated.

Blake reached over and placed it on her wrist. It was thin and elegant, the gold a brilliant yellow, and it was lined with small pieces of sea glass. It made Caitlin remember their time on Pollepel, when he had given her that piece of sea glass. Did he remember?

But it wouldn’t fit on her wrist.

He tried to open the clasp, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You need the key,” said the merchant.

She looked up, and saw that he was holding a small key. Blake took it and inserted it into the clasp, and it opened. She was amazed.

“It is designed to be opened only with the key,” said the merchant. “Only someone close to your heart holds the key. Only they can open it.”

Blake slipped it onto her wrist, then closed the clasp, and locked it. She tried to take it off, but it wouldn’t budge.

She looked it over, and held it up to the light. It was beautiful, the sea glass reflecting all different colors. She felt like she was wearing a part of Blake.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Before she could finish asking the question, Blake had already paid the smiling merchant.

He took her hand, and they continued down the bridge.

Caitlin was in awe as they entered the city of Florence. It was one of the most beautiful places she had ever been. The streets were much wider here than in Venice, and not nearly as crowded. They were lined with beautiful façades of buildings, townhouses, storefronts… People, elegantly dressed, tipped their hats as they walked, and the occasional horse walked leisurely down the street. There were sculptures and fountains everywhere. The streets were lined with cobblestone, and every few blocks they opened into an inviting square. This was a truly a city of light.

“So,” Blake asked, after walking in silence, “where to?”

“I need to find my father,” Caitlin said. “And an ancient shield. One that he will lead me to.”

“Your father was of our kind?”

Caitlin nodded. “I’m told that he came from a special coven. I’ve never met him.”

Blake nodded back. “That’s quite common among vampires. Often, the parents abandon the children. It’s safer that way. That way, if the parent gets caught or killed, the child is safe. Plus, there isn’t as much of a need to be together: the vampire connection is so much stronger between parent and child. Vampires don’t need to physically be with their children to be close to them. We can communicate through thoughts, thousands of miles away. And through dreams.”

That jarred something, made Caitlin think. Her dream. Those golden doors.

“Actually, that’s what led me here,” she said. “I dreamt of my father. And these beautiful, golden doors. It was like… I can’t explain it, but it was like… like he was pointing me towards Florence. I kept feeling that the answer was behind these doors. They were so unusual, so tall, and beautiful, and they had these carvings all over them.”

Blake stopped and looked at her. “You are speaking of the Baptistry doors,” he said, with all seriousness. “It can be none other than these.”

Caitlin’s eyes opened wide.

“Do they really exist?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “They’re one of the more famous sites in Florence.”

Caitlin’s heart leapt with excitement. Finally, something tangible. A real, solid clue.

Blake took her hand. “Follow me.”

As Caitlin and Blake walked down Via Dei Calzaiuoli, it opened up into a huge square, Piazza del Duomo, and Caitlin was taken aback by the site. Across from them stood one of the largest, most ornate churches she had ever seen. It was built in a light stone, every inch covered with carvings, statues, designs, and interlaced with color – orange and green edgings. It was so ornate, so busy.

Its rear cathedral, rose in an enormous, orange dome – the one she had seen when first flying over the city, the same dome that dominated the city skyline. It was very beautiful, and clearly the most important building in the city.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“The Duomo,” he said. “The main church of Florence for hundreds of years. Quite overwhelming, isn’t it?”

It was. But she didn’t see any gold doors.

“But the doors…” she said, “… those aren’t them.”

“No,” he said. “Those doors you speak of are opposite the Duomo. In the Baptistry.”

He turned her shoulders and pointed. “Look,” he said.

Suddenly, Caitlin saw it. There, directly across from the Duomo, sat an octagonal shaped building, which looked small compared to the Duomo, yet which was still quite large, about one hundred feet in diameter, and rising about a hundred feet high. It was as ornately carved as the Duomo itself, in a matching stone and matching colors. But what made it special, what made it eye-stopping, was its magnificent, tall doors. All bright, shining gold. All elaborately carved, with images all over them.

Exactly as Caitlin had seen in her dream.

Her heart pounded. It was so surreal to see something in real life that she had only dreamt of. Now, more than ever, she felt that it was a message, that she was close, once again, to finding her father.

In a daze, she walked up to the doors, and slowly held out her hand and touched them.