Confessions all around...

(The events and conversations in this post took place in the Lower World immediately before and during Drake’s final passing. These events can now be told in full. For a brief refresher on the context in which these events take place, readers are encouraged to re-read the posts from the following dates: March 18, 2007, A Visit from an Old Friend…Part 1; May 27, 2007, Drake’s Farewell Message; June 10, 2007, Meditation and June 14, 2007, Hell’s Bells…Part 1)



When Drake revealed to me the location of his secret stash of artifacts, his voice was been dry and raspy in my head, like he was having difficulty with what he was saying. “Rusty, I have been afraid to reveal this information to you, because it is perhaps the last and most dangerous truth that I have to tell you.”

“Drake, as much as you have lied, I can only imagine how painful it would be to have to tell the truth. Say what you have to say and be done with it.”

“It is not that simple, Rusty, because this truth goes to the very foundation of who you are and how you came to be as you are now. It was the one truth that I could not risk for you to discover on your own.”

“Drake, stop playing around. Nothing you have to say will surprise me.”

His dry chuckle resonated in my mind. “Very well, I will delay no further.” His voice became deep and somber when spoke again. “Long before there was an Omega Project, I had met a young man—an FBI agent—who I thought might have the potential to eventually inherit the struggle against the An’girasii. He was a talented Caster with a natural charisma and the strength to carry on a long, lonesome battle, if need be. He left the FBI at my urging and worked with me for several years. We learned a great deal from each other once we learned to trust each other. He taught me much about the Shadowland and the many Spirit Worlds that I had been unable to experience myself. I taught him of the long and bitter war that I had been fighting against my father’s people. After nearly a decade of working together though, we came to the mutual decision that he would not be the one. But even so, we made a solemn pact. The essence of that pact was that I would provide him with the initial financing and support to form a secret group of Casters that could become the backbone of a defensive force against the An’girasii if necessary, and in return, he would provide me with any assistance that I needed when I had found the person I considered to be the candidate. I also asked for his assistance in creating a secret storage site for all of the artifacts and books that I had acquired in my many millennia. He agreed, providing a place that was secret and safe.”

“Come off it, Drake. It sounds like you are trying to take credit for founding a group like the ORC’s.”

“Indeed, this young man was instrumental in just that, it was he who founded that little group that you are so fond of.”

“Yeah? I find that very hard to believe. Who was this mystery man?”

“He didn’t have to keep his end of the bargain until quite recently, so it is someone you know, or rather, you knew, quite well…”

I sat there stunned as I listened to his words, coming to a conclusion that I did not like very much at all… “No…not him!”

“Yes. John Red Bear was my ally in creating you.”

“That’s not possible!”
He sighed again. “I am sure that you have the means to ask him yourself, should he choose to answer you, but you may rest assured, John Red Bear helped me to make you who are now.”

“You better believe I’m going to ask him! But I want to hear it all from you, Drake. Finish your story and tell me where this stash is so that I can be done with you forever.”

“As you wish. It is well past time for me to move on in any event. After we parted our ways, he began to form the group that became the ORC’s. He sought out like minded Casters and individuals who had the potential to become Casters. He helped to mold this budding young group into a force for good, creating secret schools and academies all over the country. I began to gather individuals like Klimm and Papa Locks to me, in part to keep them from interfering with John Red Bear and his fledgling group, and in part because I had come up with a new idea to try that would need the services of Casters with fewer morals and inhibitions than those individuals that Red Bear was making contact with. Throughout the years though, I kept in secret contact with him, each of us providing guidance and resources to the other as needed. He had very deep misgivings about my new ideas, but maintained his pledge to assist me when I felt that the time was right.”

“So, you are saying that John Red Bear knew of this plan to make zombies of people?”

“He was aware of the general principle that I was looking at, yes. He wasn’t privy to some of the darker details that were required to make the Omega Project successful, but that was necessary in order to make his eventual role easier to play.”

“What role was that?”

“He played the role of the good cop.”

I snorted. “Let me guess, you played the role of bad cop?”

He chuckled. “Indeed, a role that I am quite comfortable playing.”

I shook my head. “Drake, just tell me this. Why did we—did I—have to go through all of this? Why did you have to bring John into this mess? And why did you have to tell me about his betrayal?”

“Rusty, over the millennia I have come to learn that I do not possess the ability to ultimately win this war that I have been fighting against the An’girasii. But I have learned something about what will be needed to win this war. Every trial, every single test that I have put you through has been designed to determine if you had the potential to develop into the person that could help lead this struggle. In all of my previous attempts, save one, I had either broken my potential successor or created a monster that I would later have to put down. John Red Bear was the lone exception. He was the one candidate that I parted on good terms with. In the process he taught me a very important lesson…that in order to succeed my heir would have to maintain an essential humanity that I have never had. Despite all of the years that have passed, I remain my father’s son.”

“An evil fucking bastard.”

“Indeed. That is why I needed him to help with you. I had to push you away, to make you stronger. I had to make you hate me enough to fight with everything you had. He was there to pick you up again, to keep you grounded in you human nature, and to give you the spiritual tools that would allow you grow in ways that I never could.”

“But why are you telling me all of this now? Why are you trying to ruin my memories of John?”

He sighed. “Rusty, I’m telling you this now because it is the truth. You needed to hear it from me—and him, if he is willing or able to speak to you about it—before it discovered by your real enemies and used against you. Red Bear sacrificed much in order for you to become who you are now. Don’t let those sacrifices be in vain.”

I sat in stunned silence as I contemplated everything that Drake had said so far. His voice was small and quiet in my mind when he spoke again.

“My last gift to you and your friends is the location of that vault I had mentioned earlier. You will find it safely hidden in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Here is the exact location and the combination you will need to access everything…”

With that last bit of information, Drake left me and the ring behind. His Spirit moved gracefully to stand in front of Alexa. Her small face was both serious and tender as she took his confession of and forgave each and every one of his thousands of crimes, one at a time.

I was still trying to absorb everything that Drake had just revealed when the sound of a footfall behind me caused me to turn around.

John Red Bear stood behind me in human form. His face was that of his younger self, but his eyes held all of the wisdom of his years and a tremendous sadness. “Jason, will you walk with me one last time?”

I couldn’t have been more surprised by his appearance here after what Drake had just told me, but I was suddenly nervous leaving Alexa alone with Drake. That nervousness must have been obvious.

“Jason, do not worry about her. She, of all people, is safe in this place.”

I snorted. “I’ve heard that kind of assurance from you before, John. But I’m not sure I want to have anything to do with you anymore.”

“I would understand if you refuse my request. You have every right to reject me, but I feel I have much to explain in just a short time. This is the last time that I will be able to come to you, so please, will you walk with me one last time?”

I swallowed my pride and my anger and nodded.

John turned and guided me out from underneath Yggsdrasil’s canopy and towards a small path that was opening in the woods beyond.

We walked in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t take it for long though. “John, is Drake telling the truth? Did you work with him to help create Rusty Bones?”

I could tell from the flash of emotions across his face that he was deeply conflicted.

“Yes, Drake spoke the truth, as much of it as he knows.”

“What does that mean?”

He stopped and knelt in the middle of the trail. I knelt down beside him as he began scribbling in the open patch of dirt with a twig.

“I am sure Drake has told you that he and met many years before.”

“Yes. He said that you were an FBI agent then.”

John nodded. “Yes, I was the first Native American agent that the FBI ever had. I had a promising career ahead of me, but despite the promising career track laid out before me, I was unfulfilled. I longed for something deeper, more spiritual than such a career would allow me become.

“One winter, near four decades ago, I left my assigned office and cases work to track down a vicious killer in the backwoods of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. There had been rumors that this killer was actually a wendigo, a creature from the myths of many tribes in that region.

“I had asked my supervisor in Detroit to allow me to go investigate this mysterious killer, but he refused. He said that there was no indication that this killer warranted the Bureau’s involvement yet. His victims were poor, rural, and Native American. He said that the locals and the tribal cops would handle the investigations. One Friday night after another brutal killing, I ignored my boss and set off on my own to investigate the matter.

“By the next evening, I had tracked the creature to an abandoned cabin deep in the woods. I was about to confront it by myself when I discovered that I wasn’t the only person tracking the wendigo. A strange man who later introduced himself as Drake Kampmann came up beside me and indicated that my shotgun and sidearm would be of little use against the creature. He recommended that I use a bladed weapon, if I had one.

“Before we could come up with a plan, the wendigo charged us from the cabin. It was a terrible sight. As Drake had predicted, my shotgun blast to its face had little effect on it. But luckily for me, the wendigo had no interest in me. It attacked Kampmann with its full fury.”

John shook his head as he looked up from his scribbling in the dirt. “I had never seen anything as fast as those two fighting each other. The wendigo towered over Drake, fully eight feet tall, but incredibly gaunt. Despite being very thin, it was wiry and strong enough to push down small trees with each clawed hand. Drake ducked and dodged with such speed and agility, striking the creature with only his feet and hands, yet obviously causing it great pain.

“In less than two minutes, it was all over. Drake had broken one of its legs and each of its arms. He had the creature in a headlock from behind. He looked up at me long enough to ask one question. “Can you come get the necklace out of my jacket pocket?”

“I did as he asked, pulling out a strange looking pendant with a large ruby at the center. He grabbed it from me and placed it on the creature’s forehead. The beast let forth a terrible howling shriek that died in the winter air as the creature dissolved in his arms. Needless to say, I had never seen anything like this creature or its demise.”

I looked down at the drawing that John had made in the dirt. It looked very much like the creature I had known as Grendel. “John, what does any of this have to do with why you helped to create me?”

John tossed the stick away and stood up. He motioned for me to continue down the path with him. “Jason, that was the day when my eyes were opened to the possibility—the reality, really—that monsters that were walking freely in this world. My people had stories of such creatures—most cultures have had their stories of fantastic creatures that roam the world—but I had never seen one with my own eyes. I had not yet learned to walk the worlds of Spirit, so this was all new to me.

“Drake saw something in me that day though, perhaps he sensed the shaman that I would later become, but whatever his reason was, he asked me to join him in his fight against creatures like the wendigo and their masters, who he named as the An’girasii, as you know well. In this strange, distant man, I sensed a certain strength and strong sense of purpose that I had been unable to find as an agent of the FBI.”

John turned from the path that lay before us and pushed through the thick foliage into the heart of the forest. He waved for me to follow him.

“I left the Bureau the following week and joined up with Drake Kampmann. We spent a period of several years together. He taught me much about his history and the war he had fought against the An’girasii. He took me to a number of masters and teachers that he knew of who helped me to find my path. It was he who was most responsible for me becoming a shaman of some small skill.

John stopped moving ahead of me and stared at a tall obsidian obelisk that was almost totally obscured by thick, leafy vines and tall, thorny bushes that had grown right up against it.

“What is that thing?”

“It is a map of sorts.”

“A map? A map of what?”

He moved closed to the obelisk and began pulling the vines off of it. I moved in to help him as he replied.

“It is a map that can be used as a guide through the many Spirit Worlds and to some places beyond as well.”

“There are places outside of the Spirit Worlds?”

John laughed and pulled another vine from the stone. I could see that there were thousands of tiny symbols, pictographs and writings all over it. “Oh yes. The multiverse is an inconceivably large and complex place. This obelisk is a both a map and guide post placed here long, long ago. There are similar markers in other places, other worlds. For those who recognize them and who discover the keys to unlocking their mysteries, these obelisks tell how to get to places that might otherwise be totally inaccessible. Before I leave you, I wanted to show this one to you and show you how to access at least a portion of its information. But first let me finish with Drake.

“After a few years under his guidance, I found the path that I knew that I needed to follow. Unfortunately, my destiny was not to be the Warrior, the Hunter, the Successor that Drake had been seeking in me. Our skills complimented each other in ways that found us each wishing that we had some or all of the skills and abilities of the other. We parted ways quietly after coming up with a new plan. Drake explained to me that he felt that he needed to re-create, as much as possible, the conditions that led to him becoming who he was, but that he would try to do so in such a way as to drive his chosen successor to acquire some of the same skills in the realm of Spirit that I had. That plan eventually led to your creation, and to the creation of the ORC’s.”

I dropped the vine I had pulled from the obelisk and looked into his eyes. “John, tell me this. Do any of the other ORC’s know of your involvement in helping to create the Omega Project? Do they know the role Drake had in creating their own organization?”

John shook his head. “No. Those were secrets that I have had to keep to myself. By design, none of the others share my guilt. Jason, I feel no pride in having deceived you as I have. It is a shame that I will carry with me as I leave these realms and move on to my next journey.” He held up his hands imploring me to listen just a little longer.

“Jason, I could not reveal any of this to you before because I could not risk the possibility of failure. You were our last best chance at succeeding before the An’girasii freed themselves again. Time had grown exceedingly short. I know this not from Drake and his stories, but from my own journeys and research through using these obelisks. So let me tell you how to access the information on this so that you can someday do your own research. I am not asking for your forgiveness, but only for your eventual understanding. Once you learn everything that I have, I hope that you will come to fully understand the necessity of what has been done to you. Please don’t judge me too harshly until then.”

At that point John showed me how to unlock a small portion of the mysteries of that and any other such obelisk that I might encounter. But dear reader, you will come to see how those things work in the coming weeks.

My next post will be made on Friday, January 4, 2008 where I begin the story of what happened after the surviving ORC’s fled El Diablito’s tower in the Shadowland.