Darkk Picxie

Chance moved down the street on his bike, deftly weaving through the traffic with skill.  His courier bag was slung snugly across his back, the strap tight against his shoulder.  He was to deliver a tube to one of the local corp conglomerates.  The size of the tube was indicative of floor plans, or architectural drawings, something along those lines.  Not that he really cared.  It just broke the monotony of the bike ride to think about what he might be delivering and to whom.

Most of his jobs were in the downtown high rises looming over the waterfront.  Concrete, steel and glass monstrosities which hummed with energy generated from the grid of Secur-tech Incantations’ handiwork that provided protections of the ethereal sort.  Highly trained ex-special forces security guards were great for physical assaults on the building or the occasional terrorist threat.  But when someone hired one of the aelfadl attentater to infiltrate and sputch a CEO, or summoned an urban elemental to wreck havoc on the area, you wanted something a bit more, well, esoteric.

It was a brave new world, Chance thought sardonically.

“Chance, yo, waddup?” came a voice squawking in his ear.

“Joel, buddy, what’s the word” Chance responded through the headset lodged behind his ear.  A virtual display appeared in front of him, forward and left for his field of vision.  The sharp lines of the display gave stats on the caller, his friend Joel.  Joel was calling from one of the local coffee-net houses in the downtown area.

“Chillin’ with a cuppa java and seeing what the word is on the wire,” Joel said.  “You on a job?”

“Yeah, getting ready to slot some doc-tube into one of the corp compounds in the downtown area.  You gonna be down at the coffee house long?”

“Sho, nuff, baby.  You swingin’ by after your drop?” Chance said and grinned his best cheshire grin.

Chance chuckled.

“Sure, why not?  It’s kinda slow today and I’m on-call.  They need me, they can holler.  Later, buddy.”

“10-4, my man,” said Joel and punched out.

The heads up display faded out, melting into the scenery around him as if it were never there.  Which technically it wasn’t.  It still amazed him how much the new DaemonWare display unit emulated the more traditional digital display units out there.  The graphical user interface presented by the techno-pagan run company’s patented digital emulation spell was incredible.  The integration of the tech world and the esoteric realm fascinated him to no end.

He sidled up to a light, and planted his feet on the ground, waiting for it to change.  He leaned his head back and quickly rocked it back and forth, feeling the muffled pop at the base of his skull.  All of his tension went to his neck and shoulders.  He was wound tighter than a high tension coil-spring lately.  All he wanted was to get this job done and melt away into a corner booth somewhere quiet, jack into a net feed and work on his blog or somethi…

A car horn blared behind him, startling him from his mini daydream.

“Hey!  Cycle jockey!  Get moving!” a young lady’s voice came sharply from behind him.

He turned abashedly and stammered an apology.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, looking at her as she leaned out her window.

She paused a moment, looking him full in the face, and her features immediately softened.  The look of annoyance melted away and was replaced by a curious fascination.  She arched an eyebrown slightly, and her lips drew back into a slight smile.  He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, that’s no problem… what’s your n…” she started to say but he hastily looked forward and pushed on.

He shook his head, and mumbled “Gods, why me?”

He heard the woman’s voice faintly as he managed to push ahead of the SUV in front of him, then quickly cut across to the right and slid past another two cars.  He could see the major intersection in the distance which would take him several blocks up to the office building where his drop would be.  Finally.  The end was near.

All his life he’d suffered from an affliction of always attracting more attention to himself than he ever wanted.  Things came easily to him by virtue of his appearance it would seem.  He wasn’t too shabby to look at, he knew.  Thick dark hair.  Intense green eyes.  Athletic build with well defined muscle tone.  Full, pouting lips.  “The body of a Degas with the face of a Botticelli”, a line from a movie he once saw some time ago.  Whatever.

He looked back to see if his latest admirer was behind him, and that’s when he ran into the blind girl.

“Hey, watch it, miste…” yelled the girl, the warning cut off by the mountain bike clipping her.

In his momentary distraction of looking to see if he was being followed, he’d missed the fact his light was red up ahead.  A young blond girl carrying a bag of groceries under one arm and waving a cane out in front of her with the other stepped out into the crosswalk.  She looked up suddenly as he approached, as if sensing someone or something was approaching her.  She stopped up short, which is what prevented a full on collision and potentially more damage than a sore rump from being knocked backwards onto the pavement.

Chance yelped as he over-corrected sharply to the left, and then immediately back to the right so as to not end up being a hood ornament.  He hit the curb as he swerved between two parked cars, expertly pulling up on the handle bars to skiip over it instead of taking a header into the concrete.  He may have failed as a professional cyclist but he could handle a bike better than most people could.  He skidded to a stop, blew out a sharp breath, and looked back towards the young woman. He expected to see her still sitting on the pavement where she fell.

Instead, he saw the blur that was her hand slapping him squarely across the face.

“You jerk!  What in the hells to you think you were doing?” she screamed at him.

He rocked back from the impact of her slap, and felt the sting from it’s sharp contact.  His face was hot from a combination of the slap’s impact and embarrassment.  There was mild applause and some laughter from the group of onlookers that stopped to survey the scene.  He looked over at the people gathered there, and the tittering stopped immediately.  One of the men in the group awkwardly stepped forward, and picked up the grocery bag the young woman had dropped.  He shyly approached them both, preparing to hand the items to her, giving him a side-ways glance.  One of the women in the group looked with disdain and borderline hatred at the blind girl.  He took the grocery bag from the onlooker, and muttered a thanks to him.  He then turned towards the blind girl and smiled his best apologetic smile he could muster.

He felt like an ass.

I’m sorry, miss, I really am.  Please, here, let me help you…” he started.

She whirled on him, then stopped suddenly as she “looked” at him full on.  He smiled again, hoping for probably the only time in his life that his innate charm would work for him.  He widened his eyes slightly and extended one arm to hers in order to guide her hand to the bag.  He wanted to show her he was going to help her, that everything was okay, nothing to see here.

Her eyes widened when he approached her, and he could see a milky white film over them, right before she slapped him again.

“Asshole!  I could’ve ended up in the hospital!  I don’t like hospitals!  I don’t… I…. gods dammit!” she burst out as a tear ran down her cheek.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?  No, don’t cry.  Hey, I’ll help you out” he said, surprised and shocked at her reaction.

Not surprised that she was upset.  He totally got that.  He’d be upset and a little pissed too if a someone plowed into him with a Trek mountain bike head on.  He was surprised that she wasn’t immediately mollified by his presence, taken in by his charisma and charm.  Not that he cared about any of that; he would rather be a nobody that no one paid attention to. But this was a first for him.  Even after talking to her in soothing tones, trying to take her arm, tying to be charming, she was still pissed.  She was still upset.

He was stunned.

“Um… hey.  Sorry.  I really am.  Can I help you, please?  I, uh… well… I just want to help.  Okay?” he said sincerely.

She sniffled and drew the back of her hand clumsily across her cheek, her tear stained face reddened and wet.  She reached out and took her bag of groceries from him, a bit roughly, but without as much malice in her face as a few moments before.  She stepped sideways and started feeling on the ground with her foot for her cane.  He reached down quickly and picked it up, taking her free hand gently to place the cane in it.  She jerked back slightly at the contact, but caught herself and gripped the cane firmly.  She looked into his face and he saw she was quite lovely, even with the blotchy I-was-cyring-cuz-some-asshole-ran-into-me-with-a-bike look. He took a respectful step backward as she tucked the groceries under her arm.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Mary” she said and cocked her head at him.  “Who… who are you?

“Chance.  My… my name’s Chance,” he said, caught off guard by the emphasis on ‘are’. “Let me help you.  Where were you headed?”

“Across the street’s my building.  I… I can manage,” she stammered.

“I’m sure you can, I have no doubt.  I just want to make sure some other asshole on a bike doesn’t finish the job I started,” he said.

A smile tugged at her lips, but her face remained stern.

“Well, okay.  I guess so.  Follow me,” and she turned to cross the street.

So, Chance followed Mary, and upon reflection later on, it was probably the last most normal day he would ever have again.

(being an excerpt of “Scientia, Machina et Esoterica” from the “Chronicles of the Black Book”)

it has been argued vehemently by many as to when science and religion found common bearing and acceptance with one another. it is generally accepted that during the Dark Ages very little ground was gained towards this end *, and in fact, much was lost. ironically, it was probably the closest man had come to reviving it’s connection to a naturalistic order of things. the commoner’s close ties to land and hearth lent itself to adhering almost fanatically to the Old Ways, however dictated by their region and cultural upbringing. a deistic representation of natural order was prevalent among the peoples. gods, goddesses, sprites, gnomes, faerie, and more were equated to land, wood, lake, fen, river, sky, and the deeps of the earth. views long held by ancestral heritage, passed down through oral tradition (and in rare cases, written), became the doctrine by which the majority of the peoples lead their lives by. a brief explanation is needed to put these practices in context with theory which is understood in this Enlightened Age.

the spiritual and natural realms are inextricably interlinked with one another, woven together in a complex pattern of belief and practice. what one does in the physical realm has direct effect and impact upon the esoteric, for good or ill. the first of law of thermodynamics states energy is neither created or destroyed under normal circumstances (emphasis on ‘normal’). it is merely transferred from one form to another. thus, a physical reaction which generates energy (kinetic or otherwise) does not dissipate or subside when the tangible results in the earthly realm conclude. it transfers itself to the spiritual or esoteric realms by way of what many refer to as the Veil, that which separates the known physical realms from the the non-physical realms (elemental, celestial, etc). willful intent from the deliverer of said physical reaction guides this transference, providing a pathway for it to follow. here is where the arguments of “black magic” vs. “white magic” arise, mainly from those either intentionally or unintentionally ignorant of the fact that energy is in and of itself neutral of purpose. positive and negative descriptors refer only to their natural reactions in the physical realms (positive and negative ions, positively or negatively charged, etc) and have no relevance to the wielding of said energies from a thaumaturgical perspective. good vs. evil, morality vs. immorality, all of this is secondary and is radically subjective from person to person. this is a subject explored later in it’s entirety; in the meantime, we shall continue to explore the topic at hand.

as is common with much of human-kind’s history, during the era of the Dark Ages, man was his own greatest ally in coming closest to his roots… and ultimately his greatest enemy. the Church** was rising in power and wished to become the predominant power and source of spirituality for all of man, for the “common good and salvation of the inherently wicked human soul”. it must be made clear this was doctrine established for man, by man and has no reflection on Christianity itself nor the deities and beings that represent it. the argument of “divine intervention” in this doctrine’s creation, such as man’s hand being “guided by the hand of God” has been proven and shown to be a fallacy. in point of fact, the Church has declared as much in recent decree (some minority zealous factions oppose this). a monk of holy order in the late 15^th century once stated “religion itself in it’s pure form, neither good nor evil, is a beauteous thing to behold… it would be perfection indeed, were it not for the interference and intercessions of man”. the religious entities defined here and further in this Chronicle must be viewed as separate from the dogma established by human factions representing them in the physical realm. much of the esoteric realms cannot be clearly comprehended by man, and thus are misinterpreted and misunderstood when conveyed to man by these representatives. the natural order of things can appear to function differently in these realms than in the earthly realm.

as a result of human-kind’s own limitations, there were factions within the Church that sought to dominate and control the perceptions of the esoteric. masquerading as a force “in the name of God”, mass persecutions called inquisitions enforced this will upon the peoples across the land. there were 7 major inquisitions from roughly 1000 – 1700 CE (common era). all had roots in social and political agendas, having very little to do with preservation of faith and belief itself. the goals of said inquisitions were motivated by gain for the Church, which amassed political power and wealth with each subsequent major inquisition. people across the known world acquiesced from “pagan belief and base superstition” to “rejoicing in the word of the one true God, the Almighty”. church buildings and structures were erected in places of power identified by those of the Old Ways, the purpose of which was a not so symbolic gesture of dominance and superiority over the “primitive and unnatural”. in point of fact, by what has been explained above, it was simply another “perspective”, a different interpretation of said energies, a different path leading ultimately to the same source of the esoteric, the divine. unfortunately, the intent behind it was sullied by man’s greed, and as a result, the manifestations of this interpretation had dire consequences. deaths of innocents resulted, mid-wives and other practitioners of natural remedy, homeopathic methodology and naturalism executed for their “heresy against God”. the claim by some neo-pagan fanatics of contemporary times of “9 million european woman” dying is erroneous, exaggerated. this is due to the fact that that figure equates to far more than the entire population of europe as a whole during this period. however, it is documented and now acknowledged by the Church such atrocities occurred and many innocents were executed.

many people incorporated the Christian doctrine and dogma into their ages old practices, a thinly veiled disguise of the Old Ways to avoid persecution and punishment. Indeed, even the Church itself adopted many practices and holy-days as their own, to encourage conversion to the New Ways and to demonstrate a certain degree of tolerance (arguably, a very limited tolerance at that). Myths and legends of old became prominent figures in Christian holy-day observance. examples include but are not limited to the observance of the winter solstice (Yule) becoming the birth time and celebration of the Christ coming into the world (Christ Mass, or Christmas). What better time to introduce the Christ, Saviour of All, than the season acknowledged by the Old Ways as the time when the old god is preparing to ascend from the deeps of the underworld. trappings for the Christmas of the New Ways include evergreen boughs lit with candles and ornamented in celebration, traditional in many old Germanic traditions. old gods are represented as saints, bringing comfort and gifts to the peoples on the eve of the Christmas, common in both old world Slavic and Germanic traditions. if anything, the merging of old and new was representative of the inherent need to acknowledge each path one pursued to spiritual fulfillment or enlightenment was merely a different interpretation of the energies utilized in said pursuit. the only barrier to this was human kind’s base denial of this truth on the grounds of control… and fear of the unknown or unexplained.

after centuries of inquisition for the pursuit of eradicating heresy, in whatever form it reared it’s vile head, the Church embarked upon it’s most ambitious endeavour in the late 18^th century. it was known as the Lamias Crusade. the latin word ‘lamia’ translates to “witch” or “vampire”, also used to generally describe the demonic in old latin Church documents. this crusade was launched in the wake of the publication of Thomas Paine’s ‘the age of reason’, which marked a critical and pivotal point in the history of humankind. the Lamias Crusade marked a last ditch attempt by the Church to finally eliminate “the profane,the heretical and the unnatural”. it was a long and violent struggle for power…

<<<end of transcript>>>

* referring, of course, from an historical perspective of indo-european peoples. in asian cultures, for example, many cultural practices derive from a strong reverence and belief in the ties of the natural and spiritual realms.

** referring to Christianity and it’s associated Church

(being an excerpt from “Arcane Confliction” in the ‘Chronicles of the Black Book’…)

the celestial wars is a crude yet apt name given to the conflicts which arose between the major (and some minor) factions of the earthly and esoteric realms.  some reason it was all meant to be, was foretold it would come to pass by divine will.  others maintain it was a series of events that triggered the inevitable outcomes which made up the collective body of this conflict.  still others deign to suggest that what is will be as it should be because that is how it is.  whatever the reason for the celestial wars’ beginnings, all agree the final outcome changed the known realms and impacted all those that follow.

one must understand some basics about the make-up of the factions in order to get an idea of the far=reaching impact these conflagrations had on everything.  to understand the principles involved is to understand some of the why’s and provide the ability to prevent such things from happening once more. a  trite mortal saying is “those that do not know history are doomed to repeat it”. apt, if not crudely worded.

there are three loose categories the powers that be fall into.  the first are the celestial powers.  second are the elemental powers. and finally, the third grouping, the under dark. the more arcane terms for each, respectively, are principia celesti, principia rerum, and principia abyssum. each group has a hierarchy of powers within: the prima, majora, and minor arcana.  sub-categories, classifications and definitions by religion or pantheon exist, but only in the terms of the mortal races.  the factions themselves are not defined by this methodology, and amongst themselves are not divided as such. they do, however, draw power from the followers of such pantheistic worship, and will respond accordingly. the larger the faith base, the more intent the focus and power base.  they will appear and conform to the rudimentary aspects of each pantheon in order to satisfy the visceral aspects of the mortal races.  if one expects to see an all powerful  entity with horns, blazing eyes, and lightning surrounding them, that is what will appear upon summoning.  it’s all about evoking a strong emotional connection between the spiritual and the physical in order to channel power.

the celestial powers would contain those the mortal races have defined as “gods of the heavens”.  dods, goddesses, demi-gods and goddeses, all that have been classified as such for millenia of mortal man’s reckoning. angels, archangels, guardians, and other spiritual “creatures of the heavens” would fall within this category.  as mentioned prior, they would be grouped into prime, major, and minor groupings. outside pantheistic groupings by the mortal races, as a whole they are divided more by a caste system based upon power, age, and other factors. not much is known about the internal workings of the celestials outside mortal definitions.  it appears more fluid and fluctuates based upon the rising and falling of belief systems, religions, and faiths within the mortal realms.

the elemental powers are more closely tied to the physical realms by definition of ‘element’. they embody aspects of the things that make up the physical realms, the core elementia of the physical.  the core five are incendia (fire), aqueus (water), terra (earth), aeris (air), and spiritus (spirit).  the element of spirit is arguably the most enigmatic and least tied to the physical. but as any physical being would have to concede to, what is the physical without anima, the life-force that drives it?  what is sentience without the core “spirit” within that makes it so?  from the lowliest animal to the most intelligent creature, there is a fundamental aspect at the core of it’s being which drives it. some define it as the soul. either way, it is a core component, an element, of being.  each element has prime, major, and minor arcana ascribed to it.  there are some beings of air that are often mistaken for celestials, being they are perceived as “from the heavens” by their aerial qualities.  there are distinctions between celestials and aerial elementals, but not many known to the mortal races.  a “bleeding” or crossing of the lines from one to the other is inevitable.

finally, there are those of the under dark, or the abyssal powers.  the principia abyssum have their prime, major and minor arcana as well.  these are creatures ascribed to “underworld” realms, beings of darker aspect and intent in many pantheons. they draw their powers from both the physical and esoteric realms.  these powers are the most misunderstood based upon centuries, if not millenia, of propaganda epitomizing them as ‘evil’.  good and eveil are quaint  terms invented solely by the mortal races to define the outcomes of will and intent. they are wholly and completely subjective, as is evidenced by countless events in the histories of mortals.  while one event is classified as “evil” by one group, it is heralded as the “greatest of good” to another.  will and intent determines outcome, influences events, and quantifies action.  the abyssal powers can have minor associations with the elements, though they are not elementals themselves by nature.many urban creatures aligned with the under dark are warped elementals.  concrete, steel, glass, all are warped aspects of their core elemental natures (earth, fire, and air). they are not “true elementals” and therefore become aligned with the abyssal powers.

a true mapping of the celestial, elemental, and abyssal realms does not exist to anyone’s knowledge, and very few details exist regarding them, even in the Chronicles of the Black Book.  they’re very existence changes over time and fluctuates in direct correlation to the rise and fall of belief systems within the physical realms.

there are many poets and writers who were attuned to this fact, and outlined the “rules” by which one accorded (or denied) power to these beings.  many of these rules were ritualistic in nature, for symbols in both thought and action hold power in the esoteric realms.  in a quaint children’s tale, one was told to recite their belief in the being over and over to prevent the creature’s existence from fading.  in other folk tales, mortals were told to walk around things thrice, or leave tokens of symbolic meaning to prevent or induce an action.  at one point, a noble race of elemental being known by many names, but most commonly the Fae or Faerie, were quite a powerful force.  mortal races across the earthly realm held belief in various aspects of their being.  as centuries passed, another celestial being gained popularity among the masses; massive places of worship were constructed.  many of these were built over elemental power centers, physical “poolings” and collections of energy in the earthly realms (some call these “ley lines”).  as people gathered to worship, their will and intent focused the energies towards the celestials, away from the elementals.  a clever method of propaganda ascribing aspects of the elemental race to their own celestials caused belief in the celestials to increase exponentially. creatures of the fae once revered by the people became saints or angels, aspects of the elemental creatures became defined in the terms of the celestials.  will and intent upon a belief in something shifted from the elementals’ power base to the celestials’ power base.  the Fae fell into obscurity outside tale and mythology, a mere shadow of their former glory.  that is not to say they do not or can not wield incredible power over their adversaries within the other factions. they simply do not command as much of a presence in the physical realms, their foothold weakened outside of a few groupings of mortals.  but nature requires balance.  the large power base the celestials have acquired cenetered  around a monotheistic figure of primarily male energy aspects goes against that balance.

nature finds ways of righting discrepancies.

“you truly are beautiful, starr” mr. raingstromn said softly.

startled, she looked up at him. she felt her cheeks flush slightly and winced, trying to hide her reaction. she wasn’t very successful. the pen jerked in her hand, and the ink jutted upward like the spike of an EKG monitor. she almost knocked the ink bottle from it’s holder on the desk as well. she looked up, her large eyes wide, and grabbed at a strand of black hair caught in her lashes. gods, she must look like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. she laughed nervously, looking away as suddenly as she looked up.

“you surprised me, mr. raingstromn.  look at the mess i’ve made of the transcription. i must start afresh now, you realize,” she said, mildly chastising.

she ran the blotter over the parchment out of reflex, and contemplated if she truly did need to start over. perhaps she could work with the erratic line in the middle of the words. as long as the text was legible, cadence wasn’t broken during vocalization and focus would remain on intent. her hands moved slowly over the document, smoothing it down. the incantations contained within the text she was translating from were incredible. the one who wrote these words had to have been inspired by more than mortal thought.

he chuckled softly, as if picking up on her thoughts. she blushed again.

“my apologies. my man told me you would be here in the library going through transcriptions and working to catch up. i thought i would see what all the fuss has been about. is this the new acquisition?” he said, picking up the mouldy tome she was working from.

“yes, it is. it’s from Dante Alighieri himself. from what i can tell, it’s some early writing of what eventually was included in his ‘la divina commedia’. it’s in great shape despite how old it is. note the spine is still intact and the leather bindings only slightly decayed,” she said excitedly. “i’m having a devil of a time deciphering the text, though. it’s a mixture of old latin and a dialect of italian which is fairly obscure and i’m sure has not been seen in centuries. since dante is considered by some to be the father of the italian language, i guess that’s to be expected. it’s an exquisite find.”

“indeed. a real treasure,” he said, looking at her.

she started again, and looked down at his shoes. not that she didn’t enjoy looking into his eyes. they were warm, bright with fierce light, despite being a pale ice blue color. she couldn’t explain it but she felt as if she would lose herself in them if she looked too long. she was afraid of that prospect. eyes were windows to the soul, they say. with mr. raingstromn, she felt they were more a doorway, one behind which anything may lurk.

he set the book down, and took up a seat next to her desk. he sat back with a feline grace and grinned with perfectly white teeth.

“i’ve always wanted to ask you a question, but was afraid of being perceived as too forward,” he said.

“too late,” she quipped.

he laughed again, a little louder, though still soft enough to not carry too far beyond the transcription cubicle. while it was late, there were other analysts here working on their prospective works. silence was indeed a virtue here.

“touche. well. i shall ask the question then. your name. starr.” he said her name softly, as if savoring the syllables. “where did your parents come up with the name? does it have an origin somewhere… family or friend perhaps?”

she smiled slightly, then started arranging the items in front of her idly.

“ah. no, it’s not too personal of a question. i’ve had it asked of me rather often actually. my father told me when i was younger it was because my eyes contained the stars in them. when i got older, he told me where the name really came from. it was after a character in an old movie he was rather fond of growing up. the character was a wandering girl who was caught between monsters and madness. she fell for a young man who had fallen into the same circle she had but was determined to get out.  he said she sought redemption through her circumstances, salvation.”

she looked up and met mr. raingstromn’s gaze, and for a moment.  the silence was palpable between them. the earth seemed to hold its breath and pause for a heartbeat. there wasn’t a sound to be heard and the space between them seemed suffocating. then the clock resumed ticking in the distance, pens scratching across parchment was heard, and time resumed it’s course.

“redemption and salvation? lofty pursuits for a young woman,” said mr. raingstromn.

“i think it was more about finding a way out of her current circumstances. she tried pulling herself away from the monsters, but was bound to them against her will,” said starr.

“did you watch the movie after your father told you of it?”

“oh? yes. i did. i enjoyed it immensely. it’s one of my favorites now.”

“it reminds you of your father,” mr. raingstromn responded, more statement than question.

“yes, i suppose it does. he passed away not too long ago. much too early, in my opinion, but… well, things are the way they are,” she said softly.

he leaned forward and put his hand lightly on her shoulder. her sweater had fallen away and exposed her pale skin beneath. she felt the warmth from his gentle touch and fought the urge to lay her cheek against his fingers.

“my condolences,” he said quietly, gently squeezed her arm, then slowly sat back in his chair.

“thank you,” she said lamely.

gods, why was she acting like this, like some dewy-eyed school girl stammering as the quarterback jock noticed her? she noticed her breath and quickened, and her heart was beating slightly faster than before. she felt flushed, and her left hand went involuntarily to her neck. she wasn’t sure why. to cover her confusion, she continued moving her hand upward, and pushed her hair back behind her ear.

he put both hands on the arms of the chair he sat in, and leaned forward once more.

“i’ve made you uncomfortable. for that, i apologize.”

“no, no, you’re fine. i’m just… it’s been a rough year, that’s all,” she said.

he stood up and grinned.

“nevertheless, i apologize to you. please. allow me to make it up to you. join me for drinks in about an hour. i insist,” he said, as she started to protest. “finish up to the passage regarding the souls blown to and fro by the terrible winds of a violent storm, without hope of rest. from there, i shall rescue you from that fate, and hopefully make amends for my transgression. come down to the lobby of the building, and my man will meet you there. adieu for now.”

he inclined his head towards her, smiled and left the cubicle.  he made his way down the aisle and towards the elevator doors along the back wall. she followed him with her eyes until the doors opened and closed upon him. then, she softly breathed out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“what are you getting yourself into, starr,” she muttered to herself.

she shook her head and went back to the page she was working on. she completed her work to the end of the passage,  up to the point mr. raingstromn had commented on. she painstakingly returned the reference text to it’s controlled storage container and cleaned up her workspace. double-checking she had everything secured, she picked up her transcriptions to place them in their envelope. as she looked down at the freshly inked pages, a thought occurred to her that almost caused her to drop everything. she froze as she stared at the words in jet black ink staring back. she sat down, numb for the moment, and looked into the distance as she came to terms with the realization.

mr. raingstromn had told her of ‘souls blown to and fro by terrible winds’ before she translated the text.

daemon screamed as she was thrown into the brick wall.  the side of her head made a dull thud as it thwacked against the hard surface. she knew that was going to leave a mark and perhaps a grade-A concussion. the force rattled her teeth and she tasted salt and copper as she bit her tongue. she managed to keep her footing and avoid tumbling to the filth of the alley beneath her. she used the brick wall to support her, but she stood nonetheless. her breath hitched raggedly and she struggled to catch her breath. her long dirty blond hair hung down in thick coils wet with sweat. a thin raspy voice reached her from the darkness.

“isss that all you can muster, sweet thing? surely one of your repute is more worth an opponent than this. i did not traverse the Veil from the UnderDark to finish so easily… so quickly… sooooo sweeetly….”

the voice  felt sick and oily in her ears. her brain rebelled upon hearing it as did her stomach. she choked down the urge to vomit at her feet and felt dizzy from the effort. she cocked a half smile and responded.

“aw, c’mon, gimme a break, Grallbit. i’m just getting warmed up for ya.”

“you have such a sweeeeet smell about you, my dear daemon. the ambrosia of fear mixed with the aphrodesia of confusion. and is that a note of bittersweet sadness as well?” he crooned.

Grallbit was one of the Ilk that fed upon raw emotion. the stronger it was, the more power they drew from it. they would invoke terror through physical means. if they were looking for more, they would goad someone into revealing memories of sadness, sorry, anger, whatever. they would force a memory to the surface and play it out in full sensory detail. they would do this until the person either went insane or passed out dead from synaptic stress. she was trained to block this sort of psychic attack, and she attempted to do so.

“ahhhhh.  your sweet companion, partner in crime, your soul-sister… i sense that is the sssssource of the sssssorrow…” Grallbit said with almost sexual pleasure in his tone.

too late.

“NOOOooo!”

daemon pushed back from the wall and whipped her arms out in front of her as she did so. she pulled whatever energy she could find pooling under the asphalt, in the greasy dirt beneath, and willed it through her. a sickly green stream of light shot up from below, which was caught in her hands as they moved. she flung it in the direction of Grallbit and willed her intent: protection… warding… and if the force it meant intended harm… expulsion from the physical realm.

Grallbit shrieked in agony as the energy hit him and washed over his corporeal form. the sickly green had turned to bright white-blue, a purifying energy meant to cleanse anything “unlcean”.

“take that, you filthy bastard…” daemon gasped.

Grallbit relinquished instead of fighting her will. while he may be expunged from this realm as a result of her attack, he would simpy cease to exist here and revert to his normal state in whatever dank hole of the UnderDark he called home. if he chose to challenge her will, and lost, he risked not only the destruction of his physical body in this realm but the banishment of his being… elsewhere.  fragmented and not anchored to any realm, he would be forced to wander aimlessly In Between.

“next time, my sssssweeet morsel… next time… we shall share the exquissssite-ness of your pain,  your sorrow, and i shall slowly suck it all from your brain as marrow from a bone…” he whispered and whined both.

“lookin’… forward to it…” daemon panted.

Grallbit faded from the earthly realm, leaving only a puff of greasy smoke and the faint odour of rotting meat.

daemon collapsed to the ground. she was spent and knew she needed to get to safe haven soon. her psyche reeked of exhaustion. that spelled vulnerability which in turn spelled badnessn. lots of spelling. this meant other creatures of the UnderDark may come snarling around for a treat.

“oh, maira. i…”

she shook her head, regretting it as she did so. wincing in pain, she slogged off into the darkness.