The Celadon Border

The Celadon Border
The hunters' malice seared through his skin, striking at him with vicious bolts of heat that set the remaining bits of dry wall on fire and scorched his clothing. 
Nikolias grit his teeth against the scream of pain, glaring into the orb. The eyes of a woman, glaring back at him, sneering with blood-stained and splinter-filled hands, looked back at him with cold brown eyes. The other was milky and blind. She was beautiful and terrifying with her scars. Her vendetta whispering against his senses. 
"Kill them all." She snarled, digging her fingernails into hands, ripping at his hands. "We don't have to suffer any longer from the likes of you."
He hissed, glaring back at her, staring into her human eyes with just the faintest flicker of magic. This had to be the traitor, the human who had tainted the Elowen doors for hunters for her grudge. She had to have been blood-related, knowing enough about the spell work to twist it, but not change it completely. 
A ravenous howl ripped through the night. Glass crashed. She screamed. A man rose up, swinging against the shadows, yet he caught nothing. A clawed hand ripped through his chest, spattering blood everywhere. A little boy was next, torn in half before her eyes. The clawed hand ripped through her face and dropped her into the dark. 
"I'm sorry," Nikolias choked out. "I'm sorry that happened to your family, to your son, but these people are innocent."
She tore at his arms, dragging her ghostly fingers through his skin, ripping at him. The walls in his mind crumbled until he could see her clearly. The restraint he'd worked so hard to shore up in training fell away, stretched too loose by the suppressors. He had to bend and channel his empathy through her pain to the signature of her family, the original creator of the Elowen door. 
Nikolias shoved past, letting her burning hatred claw through his mind until it melted and resolved into a brilliant sun, painting the sky behind a palace on a hill to the left of a flowing river. It rose higher and higher in his mind's eye until he felt gravity dragging him down the hill towards the rushing water. He dug his fingers in and climbed, struggling up the incline as it grew steeper. 
Aching hands burning, he staggered toward the doors of the house as the sun continued to sink into the horizon in time with the ticking clock. He fell upon the door that burned at his touch and would not yield. 
"Please. I only ask for help," he leaned against the door, exhaustion making it hard to focus on the vision, harder to feel his body still burning in the growing flames. 
Someone was calling him. He sank against the doorway, collapsing in a heap. 
A wolf appeared at the edge of his vision. A hawk cried from above. He grunted, turning his head as he felt a presence nearby. 
The wolf turned its head this way, then that, and narrowed its eyes before walking toward him. The door swung open, allowing him to fall inside.
Nikolias opened his eyes at the jerk of a sudden weight tugging at his hair. His hands throbbed, his face did too, but he reached up and froze. 
The thread holding the tiki and spikes had gained more charms. As he counted the beads, drawing his finger down the length, a map unfurled in his mind. Red light crept through the bright white, pushing towards the celadon borders running through western Greece. When the colors met, a woman's eyes flashed through his mind. 
She was older than his parents, dark-skinned with deep, stunned eyes framed with thick lashes. Her head was covered with a hijab as she clutched at her chest, staring toward the doorway in horror as a shadow fell into it.
Her hands shook. Her eyes grew hazy and filled with light, the scent of lotus flowers drifted on the wind. 
Drugged. 
Nikolias choked as the world shimmered away, and she reached out to the figure in the door.
She narrowed her eyes, fighting the effects of the lotus-flower as she stumbled, tears streamed down her face. Her lips trembled. Her jaw went slack as the shadow advanced and pushed her to sit on the edge of the bed. 
Around her neck, a jeweled necklace rested, made of six gems, each of a different color, twined in gold and elm tree wood. The gem in the center was filled with that same celadon glow. The others were lighter and darker shades of green. 
Elowen. This was the Elowen Elder! 
"Don't you think you deserve a rest?" A soft, beguiling voice said. His fingers reached for the jeweled necklace around her neck. "Haven't you held us back long enough?"
"No!" Nikolias thrust his hand out into the air just above the necklace. He pushed magic forward, hoping to save her from the flower's effects, to give her time. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. Her hands fell on his hand as she closed her eyes.
"Finally," she whispered, her words coming out in soft, relieved Arabic. "I was beginning to think you would never come, Young Conqueror." She closed her eyes."You have your ancestor's eyes."
Nikolias didn't know what she meant, but he couldn't focus on it. With a soft sigh, her heart stopped. She fell away, and in place of her warm skin, he closed his hand around the solid jewels of her necklace. The light of the anchor flickered again. The malice that had scorched him died in the rush of red light consuming the last of the fading celadon.
The blue hue burned away as green surfaced, then gave way to the bloody red of Nikolias' light. The jeweled necklace shifted into a long chain of gems like the one Samuel's ancestor carried on his belt. The fire died out.
"P.I. Abraham, are you alright up there? The timer's only got a few seconds left!"
Nikolias grunted, clutching the chain in one hand and sliding off the rafter to fall on the pile of plaster in a heap. 
"Fuck. Someone get a medical kit!"
Nikolias grunted, pushing himself to sit up and roll off the edge to the ground. He banged into the stack, but landed mostly on his feet. Every muscle in his body was like jelly. 
"Uncle Theo'," Nikolias panted, staggering toward the door, keeping his eyes on it. "Tell me I own Culsans."
"You're... pretty close to it."
He clenched the chain in his hand, willing every Elowen door’s countdown to stop and refuse to open without his say so. The shock wave of intent slammed into the door in front of him.
The timer stopped, reached zero and turned red, vanishing as a wall of red light went over the door. He slammed his hand against it, shaking, bracing himself for what was or wasn't on the other side of the door.
"Open," he hissed, panting, shaking with the effort to keep himself upright and brace for what might be on the other side as the door slid aside.