Meditation

This post has been much harder to write than I ever envisioned that it would be.

I had been looking forward to writing about the final and permanent demise of Drake Kampmann for years now. Now that I faced with writing about that very thing, I am filled with a profound sense of sadness and loss that I haven’t felt since my own father passed away twenty years ago.

For the better part of a decade I have both feared and hated Drake Kampmann. At first he was the aloof, mysterious director of the Omega Project—someone who first recruited me and then oversaw my participation in that project—my fate was literally in his hands, in more ways than I cared to consider.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Drake was a ruthless, cold-hearted, evil sociopath who wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone if he thought that there was any advantage to him or his plans by doing so. He used everyone that he ever came into contact with, manipulating them into doing what he wanted done by telling half truths and outright lies. If he ever knew what it was to love another person, he had long allowed the memory of such love to slip from his memory.

So, why do I feel as conflicted by his passing as I do now?

That is hard question to answer.

In part, I think it is because so long as Drake was around, I had a focal point for my own fears and insecurities. He was easy to blame for whatever hardship I faced. If I had never met Drake, I felt like my marriage would have been as strong as it was before, and that I could have sat back, fat and happy, as I watched my kids grow up. I would have advanced easily within the Dearborn Hills Police Department and been getting closer and closer to a nice middle class retirement of watching baseball games and fishing on the weekends.

It is like there is this alternate reality out there—that if Drake had never come looking for me, all of this weird freaky shit would never have happened. People like Papa Locks and El Diablito would have never even existed. Magick would have remained a figment of my wife’s imagination. Monsters like Grendel, Ma Grendel, Doppelgangers, and Banes would have stayed as characters in someone else’s books.

But then I remember all of the wonderful people that I have met because of Drake and I marvel at how the universe works. I would have never met Ravyn Fyre, Jim, Cerrydwen and the Frau. I would have never had the chance to learn about all of the different paths between the worlds that John Red Bear taught me to explore.

If Drake hadn’t found me, would another man, another officer, been able to become the creature that I am now? Would that person have been able to break free from the flawed prison of the Omega Project Chakra yet remained in this world to take on Drake and his cohorts? Would that person have embraced the immortality and been satisfied to exist in that cold, dead shell of his own body? Would that person have become a willing, but less than capable servant, that the Omega Project seemed designed to create?

So much has happened since that time that Drake came to find me—a whole universe of magick and monsters and strange new worlds has been opened up to me to explore—that I cannot even comprehend what it is to be that ‘normal’ guy anymore, living out a quiet, suburban life in ignorant bliss.

As much as I was dragged kicking and screaming into this (un)dead existence, I now can’t imagine things being any different.

There is so much to tell about Drake’s passing and the things that he did while he had use of this body—the messes he made that I am still trying to clear up, the enemies that he tracked down and eliminated, and the gifts he left for me and the ORC’s, but that stuff will have to wait just a little bit longer. I have needed to take this time to contemplate what his passing has meant to me.

There is little enough time for reflection, however, as events have continued to take place. My next series of posts will focus on what has most recently taken place while we tried to recover and safeguard those things that Drake left for us, and what is taking place right now in the Shadows all around as the An’girasii have begun to make moves against us.

The story of Drake’s passing will be a story for another time, since it is one that is worth taking the time to tell well. He deserves at least that, if not much else.

Portrait of Cerrydwen

I'mmm Baaaccckkk

Well, that was...uh...interesting.

Ravyn, I'll report for my ass kicking shortly, I'll bring along the information on that vault that Drake mentioned as well. It is in a very interesting location that will make for a good road trip.

Prof...I notice that the Tiger's are dropping like stones, we need to make a road trip to Cleveland to see if we can reverse their baseball mojo against the Tribe. Oh, and by the way, I do have those pass codes for the accounts that Drake mentioned.

I have been reading through all of the stuff that he left for me to read while trying to figure out how I straighten things out with the FBI and the various other agencies that now have me on their watchlists.

Let's just say that I was not very happy to give up the control that I did on that tanker, but it is now a lot quieter in my head. Bernstein is indeed gone, with all of his memories (except for those that I assimilated into my own memory-and those are bad enough). Drake also did a good job of smashing the reassembling consciousness of Ma Grendel--that entity has been smashed and scattered so thoroughly that it took a little bit of work to remember how to work with the Shadow again.

I am intend to have a fuller, more detailed post up about some of the aftermath of Drake's visit and his ultimate (and final) passing from this world and how that came to pass in the coming couple of days.

Thanks, as always, for your patience...

Portrait of Rusty

Farewell Message

It is perhaps time to bid all of you a fond a farewell, as my work here is almost done.

It may seem like I have not done or said much here on this blog of Rusty’s, but you may rest assured that I have made very good use of the time that has been allotted to me in Rusty’s body.

I have spent much of the last few weeks (the exchange on the oil tanker happened quite some time ago) engaged in the writing and recording of several volumes of work that Rusty will have access to and will have control over. After our next exchange, I will no longer have the ability to provide him with the answers or assistance that I have since my ‘death’. What Rusty decides to do with this information is entirely up to him. Hopefully, he and his allies will come to realize that while my actions and many of my motivations appear to be evil and without remorse, that I have always acted in the best interests of humanity.

I have, however, been able to take care of some necessary business interests during my free time.

Since I am not the writer that Rusty is, I will just provide a brief summary of some of the things that Rusty will find that he has become involved with. It will be up to him to provide a more detailed account of these events, should he choose to do so:

Daniel Bernstein is no more. His betrayal of me and all that I have worked for was very nearly disastrous. Before he died, I did restore his memories to him so that he could try to explain himself. His pleadings were not nearly convincing enough. His body will never be recovered.

The Professor will soon be receiving a rather large envelope containing the account numbers and access codes to a number of my oldest, and largest, bank holdings in Switzerland. The information is encrypted, so Rusty will have to provide the keys to that encryption before the Professor will be able to access those monies. The resources in those accounts will be able to fund the activities of the ORC’s for generations to come.

Ravyn Fyre will also be receiving a package delivered by a special courier. That package will contain the keys and access codes to a vault where I have stored various artifacts, items, and tomes that I had created or have otherwise obtained throughout the millennia. She will be able to ask Rusty for the actual location of that vault. Zenny Al Farhan will be able to examine those items and determine if they will be of any assistance to the ORC cause. Ms. Fyre will have to take the responsibility for safeguarding those items that will be more dangerous than helpful, but I am confident in her ability to do so.

I have left a list of influential people for Rusty of those individuals who I believe to have already been replaced by Doppelgangers or who are in eminent danger of being targeted by them. I have taken the liberty of eliminating a couple of the less obvious ones for Rusty, but given how my style is completely different from his, he will have to deal with the consequences of my ‘interventions’ and figure out how to address the remaining individuals appropriately.

Rusty may also have to deal with the potential negative consequences of the ‘disappearance’ of a small number of urns from some rather prestigious museums and university research centers, especially if I failed to adequately disable all of the appropriate surveillance equipment. Those urns held beings that I don’t feel that Rusty and his allies were adequately prepared to deal with at this time. I have taken them and disposed of them for the time being. I have left Rusty an account of each of those beings in the event that my disposal of them wasn’t as permanent as I would have liked.

Finally, if all goes as I have planned, Rusty will return to the full control of his body and with some memory of the things that I have done with it while in the presence of his daughter. I have one final appointment to keep with Alexa. If she is truly the individual that I believe her to be, then I will be able to move on from this world, finally.

Rusty and his companions have seen glimpses of what she is potentially capable of doing, but I don’t think that they fully realize her importance just yet. The An’girasii will become of aware of her rather soon, which is why I have endowed all that I can into the hands of the ORC’s. Rusty and the ORC’s appear to be her best chance of growing into the catalyst for change that she has the potential to be. If I have succeeded, then in the next thousand years, humans will achieve the kind of transcendent awareness and enlightenment through her teachings that will eliminate the differences between Jews, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus. Instead there will be a new guiding force, more of a philosophy than a religion. It will perhaps be called Alexandrianism. And that will be what the An’girasii will be fighting so hard to prevent, for it is religion and all of its false teachings, false promises, and the excesses of the fundamentalists of each of the world’s major religions that the An’girasii use to prey upon humanity.

In this blog, through Rusty’s eyes, you have seen me as an evil, implacable foe willing to sacrifice innocent people to further my agenda. Much of what you have seen is entirely true. In taking on the foes that I have, in hunting them down as I had to do countless times over the millennia, I have had to do many evil things and sacrifice many innocent people. Finally though, I have a worthy successor, a man who, while deeply flawed, has proven himself capable to facing implacable evil and holding his own. Rusty has taken the tools that I endowed him with and grown into something stronger, yet more curious and more compassionate than I could ever be.

So, I leave you, and the rest of the world, in the hands of a naïve zombie with the powers of a demon but a heart of gold supported by a kooky cast of well-meaning misfits. It is the best I could do in the time allotted to me. I hope it is enough.

Drake

Anthraximander

Well, I suppose it is time to wrap up the events on the tanker.

You will have to pardon me if you find significant differences in the way that I tell this tale as opposed to how our dear Rusty would do so. He seems to have taken to this online journaling/writing business, while I write merely to convey information.

The Bane—an old foe that I have known since our run-ins during the Bronze Age in Ancient Greece as Anthraximander—was caught entirely flat-footed by our maneuver. Anthraximander had anticipated that he would be able to create problems for Rusty because of all of the vestiges of the Drashe’en that remained within the poor lad, but he had not anticipated that Rusty would be willing to surrender his body to me.

Before I could deal with my old foe, however, I had to regain control over the Drashe’en insurgency and put ‘Ma Grendel’ (that is a fabulous name for the old gal, if I don’t say so myself) back into place. It was easier for me that it was for Rusty simply because I am just as ruthless and evil as that old bitch ever was. In short order I used my Will to shatter her into the multitudes of shards that Rusty refers to as ‘the Voices’ and shove those pieces back into their appropriate places.

Anthraximander had stood there watching, assuming that his spell was working as planned on Rusty. Ever since I was very young, I have realized that my own ‘Spirit form’ (to use another Rusty-ism) is completely invisible to even the most powerful Casters, it is something that has served me very well over the millennia. Knowing that the Bane would be unable to discern that I was now in control over Rusty’s body, I staggered to my feet and acted as if I was moving to sit upon the throne of the dead that he had wanted Rusty to sit in.

One thing that I have tried to pass on to Rusty, especially in dealing with An’girasii and their servants and allies, is that it is useless to spend much time talking to them. Rusty always seems to find himself engaging in conversations with these creatures, which is completely useless. The one time he had success against a doppelganger was when he used that damn sword of his to lop its head off without any discussion or warning. These creatures use conversation, discussions, and speeches to measure up and then deceive their foes as their weave their own hidden spells to take advantage of their prey. The most effective way in dealing with these enemies is ruthless, merciless, and sudden violence.

Take our friend Anthraximander for an example.

He is rather typical for a Bane. Banes are creatures of almost pure Spirit. They don’t have physical bodies of their own, so they have to possess someone—usually just a normal person of any race or sex—and then consuming the victims’ own Spirit to fuel the transformation of that body into a form that the Bane perceives as having the maximum intimidation factor for other humans. The process of possessing, then molding and shaping that body takes several years at the minimum, and can take decades. By taking on forms that most humans see only in their nightmares and then surrounding themselves with a cadre of undead Reavers, all while wielding equal amounts of magick and fear Banes usually avoid any physical confrontations.

If Rusty had taken my advice from the beginning, he would never have listened to Anthraximander in the first place. He should have continued acting like the killing machine he was designed to be, and left the talking for another time. Instead, he treats these creatures like he’s a liberal social worker on a mission to solve all of the world’s ills.

I didn’t make that mistake. Before Anthraximander could figure out that his tightly woven spells were now useless, I barreled into him, snapping his staff like a twig with one blow. As the creature staggered back and stumbled, I wrapped my left arm around its head and dragged him down in a head lock.

He knew he was in trouble now as I felt the panic rise within him. His scrawny, pasty bald head was now uncovered, revealing the twisted, warped face of a once young Asian man. “What are you doing, Brother?”

I smiled. “You old fool, Anthraximander. You’re not dealing with the kid any more. I hope you didn’t invest too much time in this body, you fool, because you are about to lose it.”

“Only one human knows that name…it cannot be…”

I smiled again as I yanked the head off of its scrawny neck.

The Banes screamed in pain and defiance as its physical body collapsed in a heap. Its Spirit slipped from the body and gathered into a dark mist that hung in the air in front of me.

“How is this possible?”

I dropped the early bloodless head onto the floor and turned my back on the now virtually harmless mist before replying. “I am not inclined to aid you in answering that question, Anthraximander. But, while you search out a new body, you might contemplate what new tactics you and your kind will need to deal with the likes of me again. You caught the kid unaware this time, but that won’t happen again, I can promise you that. Now move along. I have things to do here.”

The black mist that was all that was left of the Bane gathered into a tight ball as I glanced back at it and passed through the hull of the ship into the daylight beyond.

Now that the Bane was physically destroyed, the band of Reavers that depended on its power would collapse back into lifelessness.

As the throne behind me melted into a pile of rotting body parts, I turned and stood over that damnable sword. I could feel its hatred radiating up at me. I couldn’t leave a sword like this laying on this ship would soon be swarming with disgusted sailors and Coast Guardsmen, so I knelt down and held Rusty’s gloved hand over the white hot hilt.

“Look, Blade. I know you detest me as much as I detest you. But let me pick you up long enough to sheath you in that place where Rusty has devised for you and then you can wait for him to return. I will not attempt to use you in any fashion.”

It relented for the brief moment that allowed me to pick it up and sheath it, allowing it to slip back into the Shadowland.

I left the cabin and headed to the helm of the ship, passing the bodies of the Reavers that now lay motionless where they had last stood.

Once at the helm, I pushed aside the slumped body of the Reaver that had been steering the ship and pulled back on the handle that controlled the speed of the engines. Slowly the ship began to stop its forward motion.

Last, I slipped back down to the deck long enough to find the flagpole and hoist the Coast Guard flag that Rusty had been given by that Commander.

I didn’t stick around to see the reaction of the assault teams.

Under New Management

Now that Rusty is...indisposed...I may as well make my own stamp upon this place.

I will update events as often as it suits my purposes.

Feel free to make any comments you like, but I am not as forgiving as Rusty. Comment at your own risk.

Brother Mine...Part 3

“What the…?” Before I could complete that question I felt a surge of dark energy fueled by long-repressed rage and an aching hunger that threw me off balance. His offer triggered an unexpected resurgence from the residual consciousness of Ma Grendel and many of her less savory victims.

“Yeeessss…You are beginning to remember who and what you are, Master.” The creature leaned forward, bringing its cloaked head closer to loom over me, its own red eyes burning bright.

My vision blurred as I tried to regain my balance and strike at this thing with Excalibur. The sword became heavy and unwieldy though, straining my ability to keep it aloft, even with both hands grasping the hilt. Either the burden became too heavy, or the control over my hands became too weak, but the blade fell to the floor with a loud clang, dull and lifeless, no longer the glowing blade of vibrant energy that it had been not five minutes before.

“Take full control, Master. You are far too great to be ruled over by the weak spirit of a mere human. Rise up, restore yourself to your full glory!”

The creature inched ever closer as it wove the spell that seemed to be weakening my command over the darkness within my own body. I fell back against the still open door, trying every trick of Will that I had learned over the last year to regain even a modicum of control over the roiling forces of darkness and chaos that were striving with each other to take over my body.

Residual bits of Ma Grendel’s consciousness that I had sequestered far apart from each other began to coalesce back into a larger, more powerful and more willful entity as yet other remnants of other creatures began to reform themselves in order to strive for control over the newly available prize of my body.

I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the growing flames at the center of the Bane’s shadow enshrouded face, but no matter how bright those eyes became, nothing else of his face became visible.

I just barely noticed the thumping impact of my rear end hitting the ground. I had lost almost all control over the body that I was in.

The internal battle inside was now almost over, I felt Ma Grendel’s presence growing as she reabsorbed her many victims and took their power for herself. While still a mere shadow of what she had been when I had first battled her, I could tell that enough of her consciousness and her powers remained that she felt reborn, that she could regain all that was lost to her if she could only gain control over this body and sit on that foul throne.

Realizing that I could not now win against both the Bane and Ma Grendel’s resurgent shadow, I abandoned the fight over my body except for two areas. I focused instead on bringing my left hand up towards my chest. Slowly, in fits and starts, I was able to reach up and grab hold of the ring that dangled from the chain at my neck. Using the last ounce of strength I possessed, I did something I could never have before imagined doing.

“Drake,” I whispered, “I release you. Please help.”

I felt a cold, distant laugh. His voice was harsh. “So, Bones, you can’t handle a Bane? Why am I not surprised?”

I could only respond Spiritually, I no longer had control over any aspect of my body. “Drake, I can’t fight them both! I can’t let her loose again, not with this Bane helping her!”

His Spirit poured forth from the ring, overwhelming what little consciousness I still maintained as I felt myself being pushed into the ring he had just vacated.

“Now, my boy, you will experience what it is to feel completely helpless while someone else does what you are no longer capable of doing.”

Everything became dark and silent.

***

Oh, that was so painful. Bones has such a sappy writing style. Please don’t expect me to adapt to his style, I would rather present things in a more factual format. I don’t ‘feel’ things the way that poor sap did, so deal with it.

I must say though, I am very much enjoying this body of his. If he only realized how powerful he truly was, I would never have been given this opportunity to experience it.

So, you are probably wondering what happened on that ship?

Well, I will provide some details as to that soon. But I have a few more errands to run before I enlighten you folks. I have a few debts to repay.

Brother Mine...Part 2

Hearing and feeling that voice caused something deep and dark within me to stir. That part of me wanted desperately to reach out to its kindred.

I had to stop for moment and focus my Will on tamping down those vestiges of Ma Grendel that wanted so desperately to be free once again.

I knew that the Bane would be able to hear my response using the same magick that it had used to project its own voice, so I didn’t bother to yell my response. “Unless you are prepared to surrender to my blade freely, Dark Brother, there will have to be further violence. Feel free to restrain your beasts for now, if you like, but I will be disposing of them shortly in any event.”

I got moving towards the wheelhouse again, swor held in my right hand at the ready position.

“Yes, that is the human in you speaking, Little Brother, but I am looking forward to showing you who you really are. I want to awaken the Drashe’en within. You will find me waiting for you in the captain’s quarters of this miserable vessel. The Reavers shall not molest you further.”

I didn’t bother to respond, but I also didn’t trust his word, so I kept the sword out and ready as I found the door that would lead me into whatever trap this creature had laid for me…

***

As I passed through the maze of passageways and portals of the crew quarters, I witnessed the carnage of the Reavers. Blackened, rotting body parts and sticky, fly infested pools of blood lay scattered throughout, each spot marking the place where one or more crewmembers had met their untimely deaths. For once, I was glad that I lacked the ability to smell. I could only imagine the stench of this place.

My ‘brother’ must have instructed his servants to stay away, because I only their shuffling steps and their garbled moans as they fled before me. Excalibur continued to glow and hum in my hand, it seemed as eager as I was to rid this ship of these pests.

I could feel the presence of the Bane as I moved deeper into the ship. That feeling manifested as a sort of cold tingling sensation that grew colder and stronger the closer I seemed to get to it. As that sensation grew stronger, the darks whispers within me clamored all the more to be heard.

“We hunger!”

“Feed us!”

“Let us answer the Call!”

Ignoring them, I came to one last door. It was closed, but I knew that the Bane waited on the other side. The cold was so intense, that I shivered out of instinct, though it did no good. I had no metabolism to jump start.

I reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to see the knob shift seemingly of its own accord. I resisted the urge to shift into Spirit Sight as the door opened, remembering how the Doppelganger on South Beach had blasted me with some sort of spell that had blinded me. I didn’t want to take that chance with this thing.

The room beyond the door was lit only by the pale sunlight that found a way to trickle through the porthole of a window. It may once have been a finely furnished room, but was now a disaster zone of mangled metal, smeared blood, and broken wood. In the corner farthest from the window, my nemesis sat waiting for me, his towering form seated on a makeshift throne made up of bloated, human corpses that had somehow been molded and twisted into shape. Across his knees lay the staff that I had seen in the blurry video image, while each hand rested on a vacant looking skull.

The voices inside of me were nearly ecstatic with renewed lust.

“Take him!”

“Feed us!”

“He must become one of us!”

I stepped into the room, sword held out in front of me with both hands.

The creature stood up, it was tall and spindly and would have banged its head on the ceiling of the chamber if it had stood to its full height instead of stooping its shoulders. It had to be at least eight feet tall, but was very thin.

Moving with a grace and speed that belied its gangly appearance, the creature slipped to the left of the throne and stooped to one knee, waving with the ebony staff in its right hand towards the throne.

“For you, Master. I am at your command.”

Brother Mine...Part 1

After what seemed an eternity of floating over the turbulent maelstrom that was the ocean in this place I spotted the tanker. It rode through the inky black waves, cutting a path straight towards the mainland. The deck of the vessel shimmered with a green, sparkling light that swirled and moved in malevolent waves of its own, passing around the shadowy figures that I assumed were the Reavers. The Bane was nowhere to be seen.

As I began to descend, I drew Excalibur and drew the Shadow close about so I could pass from this place to the mundane world. Just as I reached the edge of the strange sparkling light, I struck out with the blade. Excalibur glowed white hot as it cut into the spell that created that light and destroyed it in an explosion of light and force that blew me back with enough force to send me crashing against the rail of deck just as I transitioned between the two worlds.

Somehow, I had been able to retain a grip on the sword even as I struggled to regain my balance and stand up. The sword pulled my hand up into an overhead parry of the attack of the first Reaver, blocking the blow from a fire axe with a metallic clang.

I looked up into the vacant, soulless face of the former pirate. His right eye hung loose from his skull because the flesh surrounding it had long since rotted away. The tip of his nose was missing, leaving a gaping hole that showed a tangled mass of blackened cartilage and raw meat. The creature regarded me silently as he brought his axe back up for another powerful swing.

“Shit, and I here I thought I was pretty ugly.”

Sinking back against the railing, I parried the second blow with the sword again and reached out with my left hand to grab his rotting trousers and belt. In one swift move, I stood up while still holding the creatures clothing and hefted it up and over the railing behind me and into the ocean beyond.

Two more of the Reavers were coming towards me from the prow of the ship while a third clambered down onto the deck to my right from a ladder that led up towards the glass enclosed cockpit three stories above.

I turned to face the two since they were closer and moving faster. The larger of the two held a large spear like weapon in both hands with a long razor point on one end and a wickedly curved hook on the other end. The other Reaver held a pistol in its left hand and a cleaver in the other. It raised the pistol to take aim at me as the other slashed out with the hooked end of its weapon at my legs.

The muzzle of the gun flashed and a bullet slammed into my chest, but I was more worried about the hook sweeping towards leg. Excalibur flashed out and then down, slicing the right arm of the larger Reaver off at the elbow before slicing into the wooden haft of the weapon and sending the metallic hook flying to skitter across the deck. Another wicked slash sent the Reavers’ head spinning to join the hook as I turned and heaved the headless body into the smaller Reaver, disrupting his next shot.

Seeing an easy opportunity to take out the second Reaver, I gathered the Shadow and stepped through into the Shadowland. I passed around behind the foe as it tried to untangle itself from the still thrashing headless body of the other one, and returned to cleave it right down the middle. Both halves of that body and the headless body all collapsed into twitching heaps of tangled limbs and splattered gore.

Excalibur swung back up into a guard position as I stepped over the quivering mass of undead flesh and set myself to face the third Reaver that I had seen earlier. The only problem was that there was no other Reaver to fight.

Instead, a voice rode on the wind towards me, calling out in a grating, echoing whisper that still conveyed its message perfectly.

“Brother mine, I have recalled my Reavers. Surely there is no need for further violence?”

Homeland Insecurity...Part 6

Stennos took less time than I thought he would need to recover from his. His face was still pale, but he straightened his uniform calmly as he picked up the stub of his cigar, tapped the pile of ashes from the end and took a long draw. He rubbed the end out in the ash tray and looked back up at me, his eyes narrowed.

“So, Agent Bones, what support do you need from me to end this incident your way?”

“I can get to the tanker, Commander, and I believe that I can neutralize the folks that have taken the thing over, but I’ve got no idea how to control a ship like that.” I pulled my phone from the pocket where I kept it. “If that creature on the ship doesn’t fry the circuits on my phone, I will call you to let you know when it will be safe for your people to come board the ship and take control of it.”

“And if your phone doesn’t survive, or you fail to neutralize the terrorists?”

I shrugged. “Do you have a flag I can use?”

He cocked his head. “What kind of flag?”

“Well, how about a Coast Guard flag, if you have a spare? I can raise that up the flagpole of the ship. That should serve to notify your cutters that the ship is safe for boarding. As to my failing to take the enemy out, well, then I guess your friends out there will have their chance to do what I fail to do.”

He sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He moved over to a cabinet that stood next to the window and opened it. He reached in and took out a neatly folded piece of cloth. “Here is a Coast Guard flag. It is my personal flag, so I would certainly appreciate getting it back.” He walked over and set the flag into my outstretched hands. “You’ve shown me things that I never imagined were possible. I don’t know how you did that, or how you’ve come to have these strange abilities, but are sure that you can take on this whole task yourself?”

I took the carefully folded flag and tucked it into place inside my jacket. “Commander, I’ll do my best, I can guarantee that. As much as I might want to have some assistance from your people, I can’t in good conscience take anyone else with me on this mission. It is far too dangerous.”

He nodded. “OK, I’ll take care of my friends out there. How soon will you leave?”

I looked out the window into the bright California sunshine. I had dropped the Shadow covering from the windows upon our return. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful. “I should go soon. I want this over before the sun sets, one way or another.”

He extended his hand to me. I shook it, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Alright, Agent Bones, you take care out there. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

I had to admire the man. He had just been taken on a tour of the Shadowland by a pasty-faced, zombie of a federal agent who he was now trusting to avert either a huge environmental disaster or a large scale terrorist attack on an area over which he had responsibility. I didn’t know too many other ‘normal’ people who could have taken all of this in stride as easily as he did. I had seen his Spirit when I first met him, and had decided that he was a strong soul who was also a trustworthy public servant, but I was still surprised to discover the depth of his strength.

He had turned to reach for the door. He stopped just short of opening it however as I called out to him.

“Commander Stennos.”

He turned back to look at me. “Yes, Agent Bones?”

I patted the outside of my jacket where I placed the flag. “I’ll make sure you get your flag back.”

He smiled. His complexion had returned to its normal hue. “I’ll hold you to that, Agent Bones.”

I pulled the Shadow close about and stepped back into the Shadowland.

Homeland Insecurity...Part 5

Before Commander Stennos could reply, the tall man in the dark suit arched his eyebrow at me and spoke up. “This is a Homeland Security matter, Agent Bones, I’m not entirely sure that the Bureau should have been brought into this incident.”

I saw that this could quickly devolve into a pissing contest over turf, so I ignored the man and looked at Stennos square in the eye. “Commander Stennos, are you the current Incident Commander?”

Stennos nodded, obviously unsure of where I was going with that question. “I am. These folks are here to brief me on the assets and capabilities that their agencies can bring to bear on the situation, just as you are Agent Bones.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not here for that.”

That set him back on his heels and seemed to raise the hackles of both of his companions. “What do you mean by that Agent Bones?”

I smiled, making sure to show my less than pearly whites and my blackened gums in the process, knowing how much that tended to unsettle folks. “I’m not here to advise you on anything, or to represent the Bureau in some multi-agency boondoggle. I’m here to solve your problem without blowing that ship up or otherwise causing an environmental disaster.”

That sent all three of them to sputtering. “Excuse me…” “And just how is that even possible?” “How could you…?”

I raised my pale, scarred left hand and waved them silent. “I am not at liberty to discuss my methods with just anyone. Commander, I’ll need to speak to you alone, if you would. The methods and means that I will be using to put an end to this crisis are Top Secret and can only be revealed to the Incident Commander on a need-to-know basis. So, Commander, do you have somewhere that we can speak in private?”

Stennos nodded and pointed the way to the door to his office, despite the sputtering objection of his advisors. “Right this way Agent Bones. I have yet to see any potential solution that doesn’t end in some sort of disaster, so if you have something that will prevent that, I’m all ears.”

I followed him into the well-appointed office that looked out over the Port of Long Beach. A dozen large container ships and the cranes that unloaded them could be seen from the large picture windows opposite his enormous redwood desk. He pulled the door shut behind us and bolted the lock into place. “I don’t see how you can really offer much of a solution to this crisis, Agent Bones, but I am more than thankful just to have a break from all of those nattering harpies out there.” He slid behind his desk and plopped down into the plush leather chair and opened the lid of cigar box. “Would you like a smoke?”

“No thanks, Commander. I haven’t been able to enjoy a smoke in years.”

He went through the ritual of preparing the cigar for smoking. He carefully broke the seal of the clear cellophane, pealed it off, and brought the cigar to his nose, giving it a good, long sniff to absorb the aroma of the raw tobacco. He looked back up at me, only to see me glancing out the window to the busy port outside.

“Thank you for allowing an old man his indulgence. But this situation is truly grave. So if you really do have a solution to this situation, I need to hear it soon.” He waved dismissively with the cigar at the door behind me to the conference room before bringing it back down and slicing one end of the cigar off. “Those harpies won’t give us much time before they insist on creating the largest oil spill in the history of California.”

I reached into the same pocket that contained my credentials and pulled out the small envelope that I had been saving for just this kind of situation. It had been given to me by Zulu after I had recovered from the incident involving Ma Grendel. It was sealed with the personal seal of the President of the United States. “Bones,” Zulu had said at the time, “this envelope contains evidence that you speak with the full faith and confidence of the President. Keep it with you at all times, but don’t use it unless it absolutely necessary.”

“Commander, you are about to hear some very strange claims come out of my mouth. I am also going to take you on a small demonstration of what I am going to claim to do, but this letter will serve as confirmation that I am not as crazy as all of this will sound. I would like you to open this letter and read the contents.”

He put down his lighter after getting the cigar lit and reached out to take the letter with his left hand. His eyes grew wide as he noted the seal on the flap. Without saying anything else, he picked up his letter opener and carefully slit the envelope open, pulling the parchment out.

His eyes grew even wider as read the document, his lips moving silently to form the words as he read them. He set the cigar down into the large, spotless glass ashtray and took the letter in both hands, bringing it closer to his nose.

He put the letter down on the desk as far away from him as he could reach, picked the cigar back up and took a couple of deep draughts on the thing. He finally looked back up at me.

“OK, Agent Bones, that’s the strongest letter of recommendation that I’ve ever seen. But I still don’t know how you will be able to help end this situation.”

I nodded. “I understand, Commander. I’m about to show you how I’ll be able to help, but you needed to see that first, for your own sanity, if nothing else.” I approached the large glass windows and passed my hand across them, from right to left. A curtain of Shadow fell across the windows, plunging the room into almost total darkness. By the time I finished, the only light in the room was coming from the red glow of his cigar, the blinking of the voice mail button on his desk phone, and my own red eyes.

“What the hell…?”

“Relax, Commander. I will turn on a light for you in a moment.”

Once the windows were obscured, I stepped up to the lamp that sat on his desk and pulled the string that caused the fluorescent light to flicker on.

“How did you do that?” He was pointing to black curtains of Shadow over the windows.

I shook my head. “You might as well save your questions until I’m done, Commander. Are you a religious man?”

He nodded. “I don’t know too many sailors who aren’t.”

“Very well then. What you are about to see and experience may well challenge some of your most dearly held religious beliefs, and for that I am sorry. It is not my intent, nor my desire, to bring about a crisis of faith for you, but I am going to have to show you some things that may spur one. If you would, please come over here. It would be best if you left the cigar in the ashtray.”

He complied, moving to stand right next to me as indicated.

“We’re going on a small trip. We’ll be back before your cigar burns out.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to reassure him. He flinched at my touch. “You’ll be safe with me, but don’t try to leave my side.”

To his credit, he straightened out to his full stature and simply said “I’m ready, Agent Bones.”

I called the Shadow to envelop us and took him on a unique tour of his facility and the Port of Long Beach.

Homeland Insecurity...Part 4

I was glad that Commander Stennos was waiting for me on land. I emerged from the Shadowland and into a dark storage room at the Coast Guard station at Long Beach, California. I was kind of dreading the next trip that I would have to make through the Shadow, since it would necessarily involve trying to land precisely on a ship that was traveling across the ocean.

The open water was one of the most dangerous areas of the Shadowland. The creatures and entities that lurked within the chaotic, turbulent oceans and lakes of the Shadowland were very reminiscent of the monsters that ancient mapmakers drew along the edges of unknown waters. I had learned that lesson the hard way very early on, but that will be a story for another time.

Stepping up to the closed door of the storage room, I discovered that it was locked. I didn’t want to destroy the door, and I didn’t really want to emerge from the Shadow in full view of the maintenance crews working in the repair bay on the other side of the door, so I had to resort to another trick that I had learned recently.

I placed my hand over the lock and closed my eyes. I called upon the Shadow to coalesce inside the lock itself, filling the gaps that the key would, and turned the ShadowKey with a twist of the wrist. The lock clicked, allowing me to open the now unlocked door. I smiled as I did so. That was going to be a handy skill to have.

“Hey, who the hell are you and how did you get in there?”

I held up my empty hands to show that I wasn’t a threat to anyone. There were three fresh faced young men in their late teens or early twenties lined up next to the heavy set, older NCO with oil-darkened hands who had challenged me as soon as he saw me open the door.

“I’m sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and credentials, flashing them with practiced ease. “I’m Special Agent Rusty Bones of the FBI, I’m looking for Commander Stennos.”

The NCO grunted, bobbed his head towards one of his young charges. “Johnson, escort this…agent…to the Commander’s office.” He picked up his wrench, shaking his head as he looked back to the disassembled boat motor laid out in pieces his workbench. “I don’t know how you ended up in that room, Mister, but I would appreciate it if you remain with Johnson here, he’ll make sure you get to the conference room with all of the other muckety-mucks.”

“I appreciate it. I’m not too familiar with your facility.”

I followed the shy young man as he led me through the warren of hallways, stairs and doors until I found myself in a large, airy conference room with several Coast Guard, Navy and Air Force officers joined by several other men and women in the professional attire of civilian officials.

Commander Stennos was a short, solid looking man with a balding pate, a broad, lined face, and the dark complexion of his Mediterranean heritage. He was speaking with a taller man in a dark suit and a female officer in Navy dress whites as I entered.

The room fell silent as I crossed the threshold, leaving the young mechanic to return to his tasks. I flashed my credentials again as I moved towards Commander Stennos. “Hello Commander, Agent Rusty Bones.”

His eyes narrowed as he glanced at my credentials and extended his right hand. “Agent Bones, I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but you were true to your word.”

The Navy officer looked me up down disapprovingly. “Commander, didn’t you say this Agent was coming from Michigan?” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked me in the eye. “How did you get here so quickly?”

I shrugged, knowing that none of these folks would believe me if I actually told them how. “I am from Michigan, but you happened to catch me out visiting a friend in LA. I was worried about traffic, which is why I asked for an hour.”

Stennos nodded. “You should have said something when we spoke. I could have sent a driver for you.”

I shot him a grin. “No worries. I’m here now. So are there any changes to the situation in the last hour?”

Homeland Insecurity...Part 3

I closed down the SecureNet connection from my laptop and sat back, thinking.

I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?

As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.

***

“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.

“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”

“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”

He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”

“Such as?”

“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”

“What the hell is a Bane?”

“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.

“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”

“So what are these Reavers then?”

“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”

“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”

“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”

“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”

“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.

“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.

“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”

That left me speechless for a moment.

“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”

***

“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”

I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.

“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”

Homeland Insecurity...Part 2

Dear Agent Bones,


The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.

Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.

That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.

A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.

This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.

To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.

Sincerely,

Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard


I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.

The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.

The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.

Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.

The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.

The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.

The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.

As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.

At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.

Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.

The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.

Homeland Insecurity...Part 1

My discussion with Drake at the tree lasted for several days. Obviously, I can’t post the contents of that entire discussion in this forum, but you will get further glimpses from Drake himself when I allow him to post snippets here on the blog.

As for me, let’s just leave it that I now have a much better understanding as to who and what I am facing with the An’girasii and their various servants.

In the meantime, I returned home to prepare for the draft in the Fantasy Baseball league I had entered with the Professor.

The draft was set begin, so when the phone rang, I figured it was going to Jim trying to trash talk. “Look Jim, there’s nothing you can offer me A-Rod, I’m keeping him this year.”

“Hello, Agent Rusty Bones?” It was not Jim.

“Oh, I’m sorry, yes this is Agent Bones. Can I help you?”

“Yes, I am Commander John Stennos of the U.S. Coast Guard. I was given you’re number by an Agent Wilson. We have a…situation…that we may have need of your assistance in resolving.”

“Well, if Agent Wilson referred you to me, then it must be pretty serious.”

“Yes, sir. It is deadly serious.”

“OK, so what’s going on?”

“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t discuss this on a non-secure line, this is a very sensitive Homeland Security matter that we cannot afford to have leaked out until the situation has been handled.”

“I see. Well, I need to get a briefing on the situation in order to let you know if I can help you or not.”

“Yes, sir, I understand. Agent Wilson has provided me with your SecureNet e-mail address. I can have a detailed report with video links and all of the information you will need sent to within the next five minutes. I just wanted to contact you personally to apprise of the incoming message.”

“Thank you, Commander Stennos. I will be watching for the message. Please provide your location with the message. If I can help I will need to know where to find you.”

“It will be in the report, Agent Bones. I’m not sure how one person can really help with this situation, but I look forward to hearing back from you after you have viewed the message. Thank you for your time.”

The line went dead.

His voice had a tense quality to it that betrayed the pressure of the situation he was seemingly under.

I set the phone down and turned back to the upcoming draft. With a shrug, I set the thing to auto-draft, hoping that I would have a half-way decent team at the end of it and then toggled the SecureNet switch on the laptop, so that I could begin the login verification process onto the Bureau’s secret, shadowy internet where secure communication could take place and waited for the message from Commander Stennos.

A Visit From an Old (New?) Enemy

After several minutes of trying to sort things out in my head, I felt a change in the atmosphere of this place. Even though I can’t feel temperature changes, I could feel the chill that descended on the clearing as a being stepped from the surrounding forest and cast a long, deep shadow.

Papa Locks.

The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.

I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.

Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.

We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.

“Locks, what are you doing here?”

His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.

He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”

“Why?”

His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”

My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”

He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”

My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”

He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”

I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”

I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”

A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”

I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.

“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”

“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”

I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”

He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”

“And just what is that?”

“Drashe’en.”

Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”

“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”

“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”

He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.

I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”

He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.

The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.

My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.

“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”

It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.

“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”

His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.

“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.

All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.

“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”

A Visit From an Old Friend

I emerged from the Shadow into the forest surrounding the clearing where Yggsdrasil stood. Since I was in my actual physical form as opposed to my Spirit form, the path did not form for me as it normally would have.

I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.

I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.

Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.

Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.

“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.

The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.

“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”

I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.

I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”

He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”

The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.

“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”

“So it was you who called to me!”

He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”

“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”

He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.

“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.

“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”

“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”

A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.

“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”

“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”

He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”

“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”

He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”

I sat back. “Alexa?”

He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”

I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”

He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”

“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”

A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”

I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”

He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”

He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.

“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”

“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”

John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”

John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”

I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”

His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”

I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.

The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.

Drake's Tale--#3

It appears that my rather unreliable ‘host’ has finally permitted me to tell my story again. Given his track record, I am going to make the most of this opportunity. Please pardon the length of this post, but this information that will be needed if he and his allies are to have even a prayer of success in this endeavor.

Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.

In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.

When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.

So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.

It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.

As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.

Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.

Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:

Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”

Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”

Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”

Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”

Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”

Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”

Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”

Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.

Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”

Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”

Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”

Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”

Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”

Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”

Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”

Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”

Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”

Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”

Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”

Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”

The Shadow

Dancing between Light and Dark, it is neither Life nor Death, but the thin line between.

Illusory

Ever present

Hollow

Ordinary

Fleet

The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.


Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.

Dangerous

Simple

Silent

Mysterious

Ambivalent

The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.


Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.

Lonely

Voracious

Irksome

Magnificent

Fractious

The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.