RSS

Category Archives: Ongoing Story Progression

The End of All Things

“It’s been a long time since I’ve held a sword, Charly.”

“Then you shouldn’t keep your sword waiting,” he replied.

Chao shook her head. A sword was the end of all things. A taste of blood required more blood and Chao was no longer the same. She didn’t thirst for blood nor mischievous fun. She was mild in manner and always had been, but without Charly and Demonico to slay by her side, there was no point in slaying at all. A game was only a game when there were players to be playing.

“Do you remember what it was like, that first night?” Charly asked her. “I remembered I took you from that forsaken port town and gave you a life of your own. You held that sword in your hand and it danced with you, slicing elegant patterns in its wake. You were great at the game, even much better than Demonico.”

She ignored the mention of the other. She had seen him recently and had used nonviolent ways to set him free from some sort of entrapment. Surely it wasn’t any of Charly’s fault. Demonico had probably been wandering realms when he was caught. The creatures who caught him were ferocious hunters. It took Chao, Angelus, the second Angelus, Shaar, Six, and Five to take down a single entity. Demonico was trapped underground with a horde of them.

Where was Demonico now? Probably home safe with his wife, Anna.

“I don’t live by the sword anymore,” Chao told him. “I live by kindness and goodness and all the things hoped for that are unseen.”

Charly laughed. Kindness and goodness? What was Chao now, a saint? The thought lingered in his throat as a deep chuckle that he couldn’t resist holding down. “Did you forget what we were?” he asked her. He cocked his head to the side and stared into her deep cherry eyes. She had forgotten, or have tried to forget. It was there, her old self, a fading light like a dying star. He held her upper arms and laid his chin against her left shoulder. “We are the darkness that creeps, silent and still, choking all life in our path. We are the heroes that heroes only dreamed to be like.”

His whispers made her shudder. “You don’t even make sense,” she told him. “You and Demonico may be darkness, but I am not and I will refuse to become that which I once was.”

He lifted his head to look at her and frowned. “You loved the blood.”

She nodded. “I did. I relished it.”

“And not now?”

“I loved it too much. The killing. The torture. The fun. If I started again, I wouldn’t stop.”

“You’re afraid,” he said with a smile, confident that he had found out why she changed. “You’re afraid of who you really are.”

Chao shook her head. “A sword is the end of all things. I’m not afraid for myself or of what I might do. I’m afraid of all the ones in my path and that also means you.”

He bit his tongue and released her. “I’m not in your path,” Charly asserted. “Demonico and I are the closest of your friends. You would not hurt us.”

She reached out and touched his cheek. “You and Demonico are indeed the closest of friends that I have.” She paused. “But I have hurt you both and I will again without regard because that’s my true nature. I hurt worse the ones I love.”

Charly resigned his imploration with a smile. “Then perhaps it is best that you do not wield a sword again.”

“I resist the temptations,” Chao said. “When I give in, I normally sleep it off instead. I’ve been good.”

“So I won’t see you again?” Charly asked. It had been too long and she never came by often enough as it was.

“Oh, you will,” she told him. “It’s hard to resist temptations.”

 
1 Comment

Posted by on May 14, 2015 in Ongoing Story Progression

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Reality of Watchers and Guardians and Everything Else in Between

For people who don’t know, I live a rather crazy fantasy life, one not really of my own choosing, but one that kind of just fell on me. I’m thankful that’s not literal.

I don’t indulge in the whole supernatural/new age/occultic/paranormal thing. I actually avoid it all unless there’s pressing matters that requires I must absolutely do something and can’t ignore. Today, I want to talk a bit about my weirdness and the things in it.

My crazy recurring dreams was the gateway drug into the madness for me. It’s common for people to have one or a few recurring dreams. All my dreams are recurring dreams. And that’s not normal. I was always afraid to sleep. And it wasn’t just the dreams. In waking life, I was immersed in an invisible world from as far back as I can remember, one where even my parents who were shamans (and still are), couldn’t understand and relate to. Apparently, the things I’ve experienced, aren’t normal to them either (shamans communicate with spirits). It made me feel more alone than ever. And in my quest to fit in somewhere–between the world of the living and the world of the invisible, I started to try and understand what was happening to me and why.

When I met Keera (whose name is actually spelled, Ke’era), I never knew she’d enlighten me a bit about my dreams and introduce me to hers, a world I called the Otherworld, and of the inhabitants who live there who have been in my dreams as well.

We were good friends. I thought we were. She thought I wanted them, that world and those things there. I didn’t live there. I was alive here. And I wanted to fit in here somewhere. It felt so good to have someone who would understand what I was talking about who wouldn’t look at me like I was crazy and who could actually say, “yeah, his name is Charlie”. For all the mistakes we’ve made in our friendship, she was my best friend for a long time. I don’t know where she is now or what has happened to her. I dream about her sometimes, but like in real life, she’s never there.

The Otherworld is a place that exists. I don’t know where specifically. I wrote our story–mine, actually, or whatever the thing there that looks like me and takes my name’s story. The woman with the long black hair.

For a while, Keera and I didn’t have names for them. They were named what we saw them as: the man with the ponytail; the demon; the woman with the red hair; the cursed man; the man with the green eyes; the short creatures; the lady who lived in the lake; etc. As we got more involved in that world and in them, we were able to know their names. Sometimes, they’d have normal names. Other times, their names were so creative, it sounded made up. Domonico/Demonico; Anna; Ameggo; Deltro Clearstone; Lorenzo; Charlie; Charly; Will; Maeroleez; Stephen; Carmelia; and of course, me and Keera.

How do you communicate with a world that isn’t here where voices are whispers on the wind and the entire world seems to exist within your own head? Keera and I used to call the Otherworld (she called it the OtherPlace) a shared delusion between us. It was shared schizophrenia and in a lot of ways, that was definitely it. I could infect her world and change it. And in the end, I ruined what was once a beautiful and happy and calm place for her by knowing its existence, by being a part of it.

Things got darker. And more terrifying. What used to be a quiet day relaxing in the trees for Keera in her dreams became nightmares, trying to run away from Mr. Gray, the cursed man. They became dreams of being locked up in mental institutions and having bombs strapped to the backs of others, having heads blown off with guns. And the violence increased.

I’m sure that if she could take it all back–letting me in and letting me know about her secret place–she would. Just like I would’ve taken it all back for the five years I was obsessed with finding myself and that place being a clue and what seemed like a lifetime wasted. Keera and I both have our regrets, about that world, about each other, about our past. But what’s done is done. All we can do now is to pick up the pieces and move on.

Demonico haunts me. I call him my best friend, because I can’t get rid of him. Right now, we’re not really on speaking terms. I’m actually not on speaking terms to any of them from that place, from that world. When I need him, he’s here. I guess that’s what counts. It’s a long story, one that spanned three books and I shortened to two: Beyond the Gates: Otherworld and Beyond the Gates: Darkworld.

I don’t really know what Demonico or any of the others would classify as. I call them all Watchers. Being a Christian, there’s a lot of blasphemy in my life, but aside from that, there’s also a lot of valuable insight.

What is a Watcher? In the world of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, a watcher is someone who guides and teaches the slayer in her job and duties. A Watcher is sort of the same thing. Many people have said that Watchers were once the fallen angels who came to earth and watched over the world of man, who took mortal women for wives and taught them magic and such things that mankind didn’t know of. In essence, both are true. A Watcher guides. A Watcher is a fallen angel. A Watcher teaches mankind magic. A Watcher is a nicer name than demon. Demons are fallen angels as well. So Demonico, whose name was once spelled Domonico, is actually in fact, a demon.

Contrary to popular belief, demons aren’t always the nasty, horrible smelling, violence feeding, murderous entities that they’re depicted in movies and television and books. Nope. Most demons are in fact, rather useful, rather truthful (to an extent for their own benefits), and rather nice. Yeah, I said it. They’re rather nice as in character wise kindness. After all, being mean and evil and murderous isn’t exactly a popular decision if their main purpose isn’t to kill, but to damn forever so they wouldn’t be alone when all that wonderful Judgement Day thing comes. Point is, it doesn’t matter what religion you are or what you believe in. Watchers, demons, guardians (yes, they have many names), and pretty much the majority of the invisible world exist whether you want to believe that they are real or not. Your acceptance of their existence isn’t needed for them to exist. They are here whether anyone believes or not. They have always been here.

Demonico wasn’t the first and he surely wasn’t the last in the multitude of weird things I attract. Why? I don’t even know. The next was Angelus. Another made up name for a dying god who isn’t dead and has more followers than probably the biggest church in the state I live in. Another Watcher I didn’t want.

I can’t even remember how Volk and I got to talking about Watchers and demons and such. I’m quite certain half of it had to do with my arrogance and his intelligence. He’s pretty arrogant too. He offered his Watcher, Angelus, to me. I declined. Never ask me a question where I can say no because I’d say no. He sounded so distraught. We were awesome friends. And yet, Angelus imposed himself on me. In the end, I was marked and part of the team. Yay. I sound so enthusiastic about getting deeper involved in the crazy of crazy. When my entire goal is to be normal and blend in with this world and society, more crazy things don’t help. But it’s difficult to pretend to be something I’m not either and I am not normal.

Angelus dies a lot. Go figure how a spirit can die, but they do. He was a construct, not the actual entity. I’ve had constructs. I’ve made them. Quite easy if you ask me, but then, everything’s been quite easy for me. It’s much harder for others. Do you want one composed of an actual effigy? How about one solid as a golem? Or one that just protects you while you’re doing all that astral traveling? How about one to protect you while you’re awake? There’s many uses for constructs. There’s many ways to make them. The most useful to me, are of me. Weird, but true.

The newest Watcher was Xyr, who, apparently skipped the entire bonding process that would’ve had to exist between me and Jay and instead, imposed himself on me. Again. Recurring theme here, I guess, of things forcing their way. For a weak and whiny girl who isn’t anything special, I get enslaved to being a part of something I just normally avoid.

Like Keera and Volk, Jay was needed to simply inform me of a few key elements that would lead to inevitability, which was whatever Watcher(s) that was attached to that individual. For Keera, it was Demonico. For Volk, it was Angelus. For Jay, it was Xyr.

Oh, and did I forget to mention the ArchDuke of Arcadia which is currently at war with the faes? How silly of me to forget such an important and prominent individual! Argh…the mess, the stress, the dramas…you’d wonder why I haven’t cracked yet and gone to the crazy house. That’s because no matter how crazy everything is, I’m not crazy. I only sound crazy.

Sighs

That’s not even the tip of the iceberg…

It doesn’t make me feel better to know I’m consorting around with demons. That’s the farthest from my intentions. One day, I’d like to return home to where I belong. And that’s not with them. So, right now, I persist in only knowing that there’s a bigger purpose for all of this jumbled mess and it will get sorted out later.

The best thing out of all of this, I think, is that I can relate to a multitude of people out there. Whether that’s the really crazy ones or the ones who simply, like me at one point in time, is trying to find themselves and why things happen to them. Being able to tell someone it’s okay and that we don’t actually end up in the crazy house makes everything better somehow. And letting people know that they’re not alone–that made a big difference to me so it’s good to be able to say it back to someone going through a tough time and letting them know that it’ll be okay. It will be okay.

Or is it all just in my head?

That is the question of skeptics. If someone is close to me, or if I hold them in high regards, then the weirdness in my life likes to leech on to them. I guess it’s a sort of blackmail kind of thing, and I never respond well to such things. Friends of mine have experienced dreams with entities from my part of the sphere, some as horrific as torturous nightmares. A lot of my friends don’t know the weird side of me, so they don’t talk about what happens to them and I’d have to hear it to know it. Even when they do know, they would be equally weird too, so it would seem like something weird they’re going through and not an attack from the weirder things concerning me. To everyone out there who has been hurt, I’m sorry. Maybe half of the reason why I’m antisocial is to keep everything in a bubble away from other people.

Most of the time, I don’t affect people in that manner–in the bad way. The whole nightmares thing was settled. That was a specific individual trying to get my attention and I got it and took care of it. The rest isn’t so bad. Tyesha had dreams of me and her and our four other best friends during college in some giant group orgy with a mystery guy that actually invades my dreams from time to time. I don’t even have dreams like that with that guy! Lol. That was a long time ago. He was a Watcher. And he’s actually not a part of my life anymore. He was only there at a time I needed someone to understand and there was none in this world. I was a child. Hope to a kid is heaven. And I hoped.

I actually shouldn’t affect people much. Demonico, Angelus, and Xyr would never bother anyone out of their own free will and whatnot. But I bother people sometimes. It’s kind of hard not to. When you’ve dealt with Watchers your whole life, you notice it in others. Meaning, when you know demons, you notice them in others and around others. The difficult thing is going up to someone and saying, “do you know you’ve got something dangerous with you?”

It’s hypocritical of me to pull demons out of people, knowing that I have them too and I can’t get rid of mine. Well, I take that back. I’m sure I can get rid of mine. But having more is not something I want. It’s something I have to deal with for right now.

People can tell me, “my daughter speaks to angels” or “my deceased great grandmother watches and protects our family” or “god gave me this gift to help others”. In all reality, what they’re really saying is, “this is what I believe it is”. They don’t know for sure. There’s no guarantee that what they believe is what is real.

When I was eighteen, I used to visit this cute little metaphysical shop. One of the psychics there was holding this two day workshop on developing your psychic abilities. I was invited because I was curious in the paranormal and also because I had been going to that little store for the past two years, ever since I could drive and before I could drive

At the first day of the workshop was this cool hippie looking talkative mom and her much quieter sixteen year old. She talked on and on about how her daughter speaks to angels and how they ask her to help them in their quests and everything. I watched this girl’s mom saying all this stuff about her, being proud to have a daughter who had such a spiritual gift. The girl didn’t talk at all. And even back then, before Demonico, before Angelus, before Xyr, I knew. I knew what they were and how dangerous they were. Yet, I almost envied the girl. When I was sixteen, my mom wasn’t that cool and accepting. My mom just avoided my weirdness and pretended that it didn’t exist. Lol. And all day, I stared at this girl who never looked at me. After the workshop was over, and they left, I gathered my courage and decided to talk to her the next day and ask her what the whole “talking to angels” was about. They never came back and I never saw them again.

Real angels don’t need help from people. If they couldn’t do their job without us, then they wouldn’t be angels because angels are greater and more powerful than us. But, a Watcher, a fallen, would have people believe that they are needed, that they are special. Everyone wants to feel needed. Everyone wants to be special. And they prey on that human desire. Everyone wants to be wanted.

I met a woman by the name of Dr. Morgan. Whether she was a real doctor or not was another story. I saw her reading something about the angel Metatron so I asked her what her interest in angels was. She proceeded to tell me that she was Jewish (as Metatron actually isn’t an angel in the Holy Bible) and that God gave her a gift to heal people.

Now, as amazing as it is to be able to heal people, I had to ask, “how do you do it?” And she tells me that she will be walking down the street and she’ll see someone and she’ll point and say, “you have so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem. You have to take this and this and it’ll heal you.” Those people she points to do have so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem. They follow her directions and they are healed. They come back thanking her for helping to save their lives.

And as incredible as that sounds, I’m still the crazy idiot who have to make people think for themselves. So I say, “how do you know that you just didn’t really curse people with so-and-so disease/cancer/health problem and then cure them because you cursed them in the first place?” Her answer was simple. “Because God gave me this gift to heal, not to curse.”

So I said, “what if the power you are using isn’t from God, but from another source. How could you tell the difference?” She gets angry and declares, “because I’m helping people!”

And I nod and said, “yes, but in order to help those people, you first pointed at random and told them they had something which only you can cure. If you never told them and they never met you, would they still end up sick or would they have gone about their lives never being sick?” Oh, she got angry. “My gift to heal is from God and I know it!” is what she said.

“But do you really?” I asked. “How do you tell someone who’s never known God how to know that it’s God speaking to them or helping them and so on? Couldn’t I just come along and pretend that I’m God and they wouldn’t know the difference? How are you so sure?” Her last answer was, “because I know” and she didn’t speak to me for a while. My point was–how do you know if it’s God or not?

A little old church lady, Miss Addie, once told me that in order to know God, you had to study and learn about Him from the Bible. “It’s the same as counterfeiting bills,” she said. ” There are too many fake bills to know which is real. So in order to tell the real bill from the fake, the people study the real bill so much that they can spot a fake immediately.” And while that’s true and relateable to Christians in the United States where the Bible is widely spread freely, what about people in other countries? What about someone who don’t know God and has never known Him?

It’s amazing how much Christian literature I read and how much of it reads exactly like all the pagan and occultic books I’ve read when I was much younger. While it’s amazing that someone cries out to Jesus and Jesus immediately stands in their bedroom and they become saved…with my experiences and my knowledge, I’d be very wary if that was Jesus or if it was something else pretending to be Him.

After all, Jesus isn’t on earth. He’s not here. And He’s not going to pop up to save anyone. Scripture tells us so. (Look up John 16:7, Mark 16:19, Acts 7:55-56, Romans 8:34, Colossians 3:1, Hebrews 10:12, 12:2, 1 Peter 3:22; also look up 1 Corithians 1:7, 1 Thessalonians 2:19, 3:13, 5:23, 2 Thessalonians 2:1, 2 Peter 1:16)

While it seems unprofitable for demons to “save” people and convert them to Christianity, I question why such things happen and why it would be demonic and not of God. It’s a good thing that people are converted and accepts Christ, right? For a Christian, I’m terrible at my work. I’m terrible at believing. Why couldn’t I just believe that that sixteen year old really spoke to angels or that Dr. Morgan actually has a gift of healing from God? Why couldn’t I believe that the deceased spirit of my cousin who possessed his sister and told his family to go get saved and become Christians as something coming from God? What is wrong with saving people? Isn’t the whole point to convert and save others?

Many Christians will go to hell. I’m sure they’ll be surprised when it happens. Being saved isn’t an automatic ticket to heaven. Most will disagree with me here. Go back and read about the parable of the ten virgins in the Bible (Matthew 25:1-13). Please have understanding. Christians can’t do what they want to do and think that being saved actually saves them to a Just and Holy God who does indeed deal out justice. That is why being a Christian means being ready to die/leave at any moment when Jesus returns. There are many reasons why a lot of Christians will go to hell. Ignorance, mostly. Compromisation of their faith. Absolute rebellion and disobedience. The list goes on and on.

Stop oppressing my faith!” Christians say. “It’s God and I know it.” And then they call me a witch, not knowing I’m a Christian.

Stop being blind and ignorant,” I say. Most Christians don’t even know anything about their beliefs. Faith isn’t blind. That’s something people came up with. People come up with the term “blind faith” in regards to how Christians believe in a God they cannot see. (They also say that love is blind too.)

Faith, it is said, in Hebrews 11:1 is quoted as, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (KJV–all italics mine.)

Nowhere does it say that Christians should walk about blindly believing that everything which seems good to people is of God. That’s our mistake–in believing that what we think is good and wonderful has to be from God or of God. I know plenty of people who shout out how horrible God is and questioning how He can do such terrible things if He was such a loving God. And now, that has to say something too. Christians shouldn’t just disregard someone else’s opinion about God as merely an “opinion”.

God in the Bible is depicted as many things, vengeful is one of those things. Romans 12:19 says, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (KJV–all italics mine.) Jealous is another. Exodus 34:14 says, “For thou shalt worship no other god: for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God:” (KJV–all italics mine.) And Nahum 1:2 says, “God is jealous, and the Lord revengeth; the Lord revengeth, and is furious; the Lord will take vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserveth wrath for his enemies.” (KJV–all italics mine.)

I can keep quoting scripture, but that’s not the point. The point is that our knowledge and our wisdom isn’t sufficient to God’s. So how can we say that because something we perceived as good happened, that it came from God? Earlier, I said that, “Most demons are in fact, rather useful, rather truthful (to an extent for their own benefits), and rather nice. Yeah, I said it. They’re rather nice as in character wise kindness. After all, being mean and evil and murderous isn’t exactly a popular decision if their main purpose isn’t to kill, but to damn forever so they wouldn’t be alone when all that wonderful Judgement Day thing comes.” And I still stick by what I’ve said.

It surprises me how much people don’t want to know the truth. It’s like Cypher said in The Matrix, “If you’d told us the truth, we would’ve told you to shove that red pill right up your ass.” And that’s how people feel about it. Ignorance is bliss, but to how far will someone pretend and keep pretending that everything’s okay?

I don’t know. This isn’t my fight. I can’t save anyone. I can yell at the top of my lungs until I’m blue in the face, but most people won’t listen and those who will, will only disregard what I say for their own truths. I mean, I get it. I understand. Demonico is incredible and Angelus is amazing and Xyr, well, I haven’t tested him out yet, but he’s proven interesting being the only strangely blue thing I’ve seen (aside from Shaar who is blue, but a different kind)–I understand the entire fascination with all of it. And power? Yeah, you’re talking mega watts of power. Angelus can fry people on the other side of the planet. And Demonico can travel worlds and conquer them. I don’t know what Xyr is capable of yet, but having the ArchDuke as a vassal is pretty impressive. So I totally understand why people would rather choose what they have (or think they have) and not care about their future or their soul or anything else. I’m there with all of you. I completely understand and relate.

And yet, it’s so unhappy, isn’t it? Most of us are alone. Most of us are misunderstood. Most of us hurt and hurt deeply. And it’s sad. It’s so incredibly sad. We’re all so unhappy. Power can’t compare to love. And all the Watchers and all the Guardians and all the Fallen in all the worlds cannot ever fill up that empty hole inside of you.

That is truth. And many of us know it. Many of us deny it. Many of us try to hide it. But it’s still there. Emptiness. Loneliness. We try to fill it with so many things: knowledge, power, sex…it’s just not the same.

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Return of Magic

I’ve always been crazy. Ask anyone I know. Ask my family. They’ll tell tales of how I used to speak of different worlds, different homes, and different families when I was younger. They’ll tell tales of how I used to stare out in space or of how I’d leave them, trying to find the places of where I belonged that wasn’t here. I didn’t belong here. And I still don’t.

For all the people who know and still stayed, for all the ones who accepted me–crazy or not, and for all the people who still love me for all of me, thank you. For all the rest, I will sound crazy and that’s okay. People’s opinions don’t matter. Being true to myself does. And if I believe in different worlds and different homes and different families, then so be it.

I feel like it’s my birthday. One day a year, I wake up feeling this amazing calm. Everything’s still and in that stillness, I feel as if I am a bit wiser, that overnight, I had somehow managed to come to some hidden knowledge. The next day, however, is a different story. I wake and feel as if I’ve taken two steps backwards. So the one step I took forward the day before is canceled out, and not only that, but I went backwards one more step. I hope that’s not the case with how I feel today. For one day, let me drift along in the peace and quietness of my mind and my heart and my soul, for such peace doesn’t come very often. I want to stay in it for as long as I am able to.

Time to get things done that I haven’t been able to get to: the websites, the old people, the book writing, the dreams, the magic…lots to do, starting with cleaning out skeletons in the closet–wherever the closet is.

(12:12 pm)

We’re all just standing there, standing around with nothing to do. Her, the cruelest of all the parts of me, wriggles and tries to free herself. That last event triggered something that broke what bounds we had with each other. I assimilate her formed parts, sucking her back inside and binding her there. She’s malice in strength and form. And she’s not going to ever be free.

I turn to Angelus who stares at me with that look on his face that says, I told you so. It’s not what I want to hear, so I turn away.

“You did it,” Xyr says, breaking the silence. “I told you not to.”

I shrug my shoulders. “It brings me peace,” I reply. And it did. Right now, I am peaceful. I am calm.

“I’m glad I stopped you from tearing the last one,” he says. “You’ll regret it.”

“I regret not tearing it now,” I say.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he says.

“I never know what I’m saying,” I admit. “My life’s complicated enough without the complications of someone else. Why bother? Do you want to know what God says?”

He cringes and makes a sort of disgusted face. “You and Him, I don’t understand it.”

I shrug again. “He’s pretty awesome actually.” I stare at Xyr for a while. I turn to Angelus and he shrugs too. “He put all of us here and allowed all of us here. Why do you dislike Him so much?”

“God,” Xyre says, scrunching up his nose and flapping his tongue around as if the word was something distasteful in his mouth.

I laugh. “I wouldn’t be here if not for Him, so let’s just leave it at that.” I pause and then grin. “Unless you’d like to make that face again. I should take a picture for my scrapbook.”

“This face?” Xyr asks, tilting his head severely to the side and grinning from ear to ear like the mad Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.

I shake my head and laugh. “You look a bit scary like that.”

“Do I now?” He steps closer to me and I stand my ground, pushing him away with a hand on his chest.

“Not that scary,” I tell him. I turn to Angelus. “Can we do something?” I ask. “I’m utterly bored.”

“What do you want to do?” he asks me.

“Have you and Shaar eaten?” He only stares at me. “Fine. Do you and Shaar want to eat?” Still no word. I throw my hand up in the air and blow out a puff of a sigh. “Where’s Volk when I need him? He’d have something for me to do.”

“Volk?” Xyr raises a curious eyebrow and I knew that look well, no matter who it was plastered on. That look that says, I want a piece of that.

“An old friend. He’s gone now.”

“He’s not–” Angelus replies and I shoot him a stare. He suddenly stops speaking.

“Is he now?” Xyr asks, bending over to stare at me. He’s pretty tall, but last time I checked, Angelus and I was any height we wanted to be.

“Don’t even think about it,” I order. “You touch mine and I will touch yours.”

He frowns for a moment, and then smiles. “Go ahead. Thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

“I don’t,” I say sternly. “Stop trying to trick me.”

He laughs. “You trick yourself,” he says. “You pretend to have free will, to be able to choose. You are only a pawn in my hands.”

I sadly shook my head at him. “I bring up the name ‘God’ and you cower. Really, Xyr? I thought you were all great and powerful. Perhaps I should feed you to Ellis, blasphemous queen of heaven.”

He frowns.”Your queen of heaven is a dangerous demon.”

“Not mine,” I correct him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He pauses for a moment, then leans down close to my face. “You don’t know that I’m part of the Watchers.”

“I could’ve guessed it,” I tell him. “So is Angelus.”

He turns to Angelus and nods. “You’re a bright one,” he says.

“You all are the bright ones. Want to see the others?” I ask. It wasn’t the first time that I had been there–to the stars. Angelus’ star was more of a dead asteroid. It had some gravity, but very little, not that we needed gravity. All dark gray rock. It was nice. The emptiness of space was just that: emptiness.

“You’ve been there?” Xyr asks.

I nod. “I know too many of you,” I reply. “For a long time, they wouldn’t stop bothering me. I was bombarded left and right and Angelus and I were constantly attacked by then.” He turns to Angelus and Angelus shook his head. “He doesn’t remember,” I say. “That was a different Angelus many years back.”

Angelus shrugs and Xyr turns back to me. “You were attacked?” I nod. “You survived?”

“I’m standing here, aren’t I?”

He looks at me dumbfounded. “You can survive an attack by my brothers?”

“It’s easy,” I say. “None of this is real.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he didn’t understand the joke.

“It’s real,” he says.

I roll my eyes and turn to Angelus. “So, want to go hunting or something? I’m sure Shaar will enjoy the hunt.”

Xyr grabs my arm and I glance back to him. “How did you survive?” he asks, still determined to find out how I could possibly survive an attack by an army of angels.

I glance down at his hand. “Let go,” I say. He gives me a confused look. I pry his fingers off with my other hand.

He stares at me for a long while. “What are you?” he asks.

I smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I ask him. He nods his head. “Another time,” I say. And Xyr stares at me with his blue self, no longer shielded by a body. “You want to test me?” I ask him.

“You will die,” he says, indicating that if he did test me, I wouldn’t survive the test.

“Let’s battle,” I say. I shift into battle gear and then stop. “This is stupid and I’m sleepy,” I tell him. “Let’s all nap.”

“No,” Xyr replies.

He didn’t have a choice. He was out cold. And when he wakes, he won’t remember anything that happened while I was there today. And neither will Angelus.

(1:20 pm)

I still have peace. I will sleep. I am tired and exhausted in too many ways to name or explain. Until next time.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on June 10, 2014 in Diary, Ongoing Story Progression

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

The Story Unknown

“I was birthed on a planet where the flowers bloomed blue from the magic running through my world. You call it vos.

There, we had a kingdom and a king who ruled peacefully. There, I was a princess, beloved by all and engaged to be married to a prince of a neighboring kingdom. We, who are royalty, control the vos.

And on the eve before my wedding day, we were attacked by beings from another world. They destroyed my home, enslaved my people, and drained all the vos from that world for themselves.

My father’s most trusted advisor and high magician, the strongest of all the magicians in our world, opened up a portal for me and my fiancee to escape. As long as I was alive, there was hope for my people in that one day, I will inherit the power of my people and I will return to save them from this race of armor wearing warmongers. But fate was not so kind. And what happened next hurled me into lifetimes after lifetimes on various planets and realms.” – Xao

“Our magic wasn’t a virus. It was a living thing, one that embodied us and worked with us through us. It is us. And because it is us, it moves automatically to protect us, to help us, and to defend us without even us thinking.

We had many and much magic. We were shapeshifters. We preferred the blue bats or the blue wolves. But we were also powerful enough to control time and to circumvent time. To transverse time.

I fell in a pool of water when I left that world. I fell in this one: earth. And I was told to go to an apartment and wait for my beloved to come find me. I stayed in a room by myself for a long time, fearing that people would see past the magic because we were not exactly human. We had ears like elves and very long arms that reached down to our knees. We were a bit odd, but we were what we were and being in a different world didn’t help my feeling insecure that my fiancee never made it.

Then one day, I saw him. He was with a woman whom I bumped into once who lived in the same hall of my apartment. Her name was Camelia and he was buying her a wedding ring. It had been months since I’ve seen him and although human, I knew it was him. We from the same place, knows those from the same place. And I followed them to the ring shop. And at the end, when he kissed her and slipped the ring on her finger in the shop, my heart broke in two and I left, silently as I had came and silently because he didn’t even know I was there.

In my despair, I vowed to never come back to this world. I vowed to never come back to earth. And in a scream of heartbreak and longing and loss and despair, I transversed worlds and took my own memory of all that happened here. I had no desire to see it and no desire to remember any of it.

I remember ocean. I fell in the ocean. And I wanted the ocean to drown me, to take away the sadness and the pain in my heart that I no longer knew was the source, but the bleeding ache was still there. Yet, someone found me and while I was not on earth, I was in a similar world, one with people, but also one with its own magic. I didn’t even remember my own name. And I lived longer than everyone. I watched generations die and pass on and I was there still, watching the ocean and wondering where I came from and who I was.

Then one night, the ocean came alive. The ocean glowed and glittered with flashing lights, beautiful lights of greens and pinks and reds and blues and yellows. From out of the depths rose creatures, some familiar, others not. In their wake, whatever they touched, they left behind a sort of clear slime. That slime devoured everything and withered the grass and the world before my very eyes. I was afraid and I ran into the woods and climbed the highest trees and hid from the terror of the deep.

The village was plundered and destroyed. Fire was set to burn the creatures back. The earth shook and trembled with their great fierceness. And I was a coward. I had no memory of having magic or of remembering that I possessed great magic. And in the end, destruction swept throughout the city. But before dawn, the creatures slithered and crawled and made their way back to their ocean depths.

I woke with the sun shining in my face and seeing the damage, I cried for my loss. I had lived in that town my whole life and now, it was gone. A piece of my heart felt empty and the hole that was there only grew bigger. With no more tears left to shed, I closed my eyes and tried to enjoy the last of the sunshine before I drowned myself into the ocean that birthed me so I could go where the rest of the people went.

The sun was short lived as a shadow blocked my light. In my surprise, there was a man in a white suit and a hat, dressed oddly and impeccably and staring at me. I must’ve been a mess with matted hair covered in goo and I must’ve looked horrid because he frowned at me. He touched the goo in my hair and quickly wiped it off his fingers with a handkerchief, throwing the napkin on the ground where it caught fire and he stamped it out with his foot. He looked at it oddly.

“My name is Charly,” he said. “Do you speak?”

I looked at him dumbfounded.

“Do you know how to speak?” He paused for a moment. I didn’t understand anything he was saying. He was speaking the tongue of the people in the city, the people that were now long gone.

“Let’s try this again,” he muttered. “My name is Charly. Can you speak?”

“I understand you,” I replied. He now spoke the earth language that I had forgotten I knew of.

He smiled and held out a hand to me. “Come,” he said. “I will take you with me and you will be mine. You will be safe from all harm and you will have all things. I am Charly and I will now look after you.”

“Charly,” I repeated his name. He was beautiful and pleasing to the eyes, but the hole in my heart was too wide to hold love for any other. I didn’t know that it once held love before I was betrayed.

“Yes, Charly. Now come along. There is somewhere we have to go and someone I’d like you to meet.” He bent down and helped me up, not even aware that I was dirtying his nice white suit. He only smiled and talked to me and took me in his arms and hugged me tight. Charly. And I was his now. He was going to take care of me. It’s what he said.

Charly took me and cleaned me up and we rested in an inn in the marketplace. He fed me and clothed me and he was indeed very nice to me and always so respectful.

I learned that Charly was not of that world, but he was a traveler, He could slip through worlds and we were going to meet another, his only and best friend, Demonico–another who could slip through worlds and open gateways. These were all things I had forgotten and all things I didn’t remember. But, being with them, living with them, loving them, were some of the best years of my life.

And then we settled in the Otherworld–a place neither here nor there, but a place innocent and untouched by the cruelty and horrors of other worlds and the creatures there. It was a safe haven for all who entered its borders.

My story does not stop there, but I must for this is too long for you to read. I shall wait eagerly for your reply.” – Xao

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 8, 2014 in Diary, Ongoing Story Progression

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Faerie Queen Awaits

Do people know what it means to manipulate time–to forward and rewind and bring to a standstill? The Arromanovokzjas can stop time. It’s their royal bloodline power. Yet, the Arromanovokzjas are vampires and while vampires do exist, their particular power is very difficult to master, let alone chance upon.

I can stop time. I’m no vampire princess, but I have enough power even to freeze dying gods. My name is Maeve, and I’m a natural at magic. You can say that I was born this way. I was born to rule the realm of the invisible. I am human, much like you, but my story is different and my path is much different. This is but just one small snippet of an even larger tale yet to be told. A tale that no one will believe to be true.

She awaits my arrival, the faerie queen. I am late, as I have been avoiding this moment, but she waits still pass the fleeting days. Days in my world is much shorter in the sense of time than days in Arcadia, land of the faes. She looks regal in her wintery gown with a stern face though the corners of her lips are pulled upwards a wee bit. Have I met her before? I’m unsure. She sits on the throne of the ArchDuke. I don’t know where he is. Where is the old man?

(It is 2am. I will have to continue this tomorrow.)

“I hear you’ve been working for the ArchDuke,” she says.

I nod. “I have,” I reply. “I am no longer employed by him. My service terms are completed.”

“Then why are you here?”

That’s a good question. Why am I there? My servitude to the ArchDuke had been finished in May. By all intensive purposes, I am no longer a vassal to the ArchDuke and therefore, no longer valid in the kingdom of Arcadia. The fact that I have a free pass to enter the kingdom at will, which is given to me by my former employer, didn’t negate the severity of breaking fae rules–one of which says that humans aren’t allowed in the realm of the faes.

I actually had no intentions to return to Arcadia, but on passing glance, I saw the queen and I knew she was waiting for me to return. She visits the old man none, but on my last day, she was there. And seeing me leave upon her arrival, I figured it is only a matter of time before the curiosity in her mind made her question who I am and what I was doing there.

My tenses are all confused.

“I am looking for the ArchDuke,” I say. “Is he around?”

She shakes her fragile head which looks as if it would snap upon her thin neck if she moves it a bit faster.

I give her a slight bow. “I am sorry to trouble you then. I shall take my leave now, my queen.” Such words belongs only in movies and epic tales of queens and kings and dynasties. I back away slightly, keeping my head down. Perhaps she isn’t going to ask further questions.

“Wait,” she says, standing up from the throne. I glance up at her. “I know about every creature who enters and leaves Arcadia, but I don’t know about you,” she says to me. “I wouldn’t have known if I wasn’t informed of something happening in this household.”

So she has spies everywhere. It figures. However, isn’t the ArchDuke part of her allegiance? Why did she say she didn’t know who I was or why I was there? Did he not tell her?

“Who are you?” she asks, walking down a few steps to take a closer look at me. “Why are you here? How long have you been here?”

Such questions! I couldn’t believe I was speaking the the faery queen and she wants to know about me! I’m sure her wanting to know about me is more so she can deduce whether I’m a threat or not, but this is still royalty in some way and it’s astounding to be in front of such a powerful ruler.

I give her my biggest smile. “I’m the ArchDuke’s granddaughter,” I say as enthusiastically as possible. “I came to visit my grandfather. He is getting old and I wanted to know him before…you know. I wanted to see him before he passes.”

“The ArchDuke has no granddaughter,” the queen replies. She hasn’t given me a name, so I’m not asking for one.

“Of course he does,” I tell her. “I’m his granddaughter by marriage.”

She looks at me and pauses for a bit, probably weighing my words to see what truth there is in that. Faeries are very cunning, but they aren’t truth detection machines. I definitely tell no truths when dealing with them. It’s better to not have them know anything about you.

“And who are you married to?” she asks.

Now here is a lie I didn’t know how to tell. I can name two people, but I also didn’t want anything to happen to those two people. If I made up a name, she might catch the lie. With faes, it is worse to catch a lie than to realize later that they are lied to.

Possible scenarios enters my head and plagues me of possible outcomes to my lies. It is wrong to involve anyone else, and worse to not answer the queen. Will I pin the blame on some poor misfortune chap? Perhaps.

“I am married to my grandfather’s son’s cousin’s brother’s son who was twice removed from the family.” I watch as her head takes in the confusing words. There is a purpose to the confusion. It is to confuse her.

She stares at me for a moment, pondering. I see Xyr, more powerful than the queen, standing behind her weaving some kind of spell like Harry Potter’s in the last installment movie where Hermione and Ron tries to break into the Gringott Vault pretending to be Bellatrix LeStrange and her sidekick.

The queen curls the corners of her lips upwards. “You love your grandfather?”

“Yes,” I reply. And then I see it. I see why the old man is missing and why the queen was here waiting for me. I see what happened after I left. She imprisoned him. The ArchDuke, the second most powerful in all the lands of Arcadia, rivaling the two queens. How she imprisoned him, I have no idea. I only know that it had something to do with me and that I am going to actually have to hunt faeries now. “I love my grandfather very much,” I complete the sentence.

“What will you do if you know where your grandfather is now?” she asks. I already knew where he was. Xyr shakes his head at me as if to tell me not to reply to the trick question. Of course she knew where he was because she’s the queen. She just didn’t know how I got into Arcadia or how long I stayed and how I remained invisible under her nose for so long. When I get the ArchDuke back, I’ll tell him to rid himself of her spies.

I don’t think breaking and entering into a dungeon highly guarded by magic would suffice at freeing him. And what will I do once I get there? The old man is useless at that rate if he was captured by her. Answering the queen’s question is only probably going to get me a reply I don’t want to hear. I smile politely instead.

“Aren’t you curious?” she asks, coming forward towards me.

“Step back,” Angelus whispers in my ear. I step back. I am almost reminded of other times when Angelus had to tell me what to do concerning magical creatures because I was so inexperienced. Even now, I am pretty much still inexperienced. But stepping back means that I shouldn’t let her touch me and if her power was in touch, then I am safe at a distance as long as I keep my distance.

“I’m sure grandfather will return sooner or later,” I say with a happy smile. It’s always easier to fake things with happiness and excitement. No one ever fakes anything being all grumpy and moody. I wonder why that is? But I have no time to think as I move back again as many times as she moves forward. She is shorter than me about a foot and very small and dainty like a child–or a Disney character. At the moment, I wonder if being made of iron would be of great help since in Maleficent, iron hurts faeries.

“What is your name?” she says, stopping for now and not moving forward. Thank goodness the room was huge and we have plenty of space to move around in.

“Not your real name,” Angelus whispers.

Or not any name I call myself, I think. “Maybelline,” I say. I could smack myself on the head for taking the name of a famous cosmetic brand. Couldn’t I have come up with a better name? A more human sounding name? But Maybelline fits so I keep it and try not to let my thoughts get so loud that they have a voice.

Xyr turns to leave and I wonder where he’s going. He walks to the back of the room, away from us, and passes through the door where the faery queen entered that one day a while back when I was here. Perhaps the ArchDuke isn’t as far as I thought him to be. Maybe he is here, in this castle.

“Maybelline,” she says, tilting her head slightly to the side. “It sounds almost like a name from here.”

I agree to an extent. If I took out “line” at the end of that name, it would be indeed a fae name. The names that popped into my head at the time were all faery names. Mayfel. Adellel. Crysel. Thrumiel. Faery names always ended in -el. I once thought faeries were perhaps angels of God, for isn’t it said that the names of angels ended in -el? Michael. Gabriel. Raphael. Uriel. Castiel. That last name is from the hit tv show, Supernatural. It sounds angelic. But faeries, although they do have wings, aren’t angels in the least bit. Maybe they are fallen angels.

“Well, my parents were very forward thinking in terms of naming their children. My older brother is named Raphael and my sister, Angelinnese.” I made those names up on the spot. And I didn’t have only one brother and one sister. But I’m not giving out any real information.

“Maybelline,” the faery queen calls me. “How is it that you are here? Arcadia is restricted access for humans.”

Could I pretend to be half-faery? That can explain the bizzare name and me being able to travel to Arcadia, but I’m certain the queen would want to know the names of my parents and any fake name I give would’ve been a disaster. What’s worse is to give her the name of an opposing fae, one from the other queen’s domain. How can I lie properly with Xyr finding out where the ArchDuke is?

I believe it’s time for me to leave now, I tell Angelus. And in an instant, I stop time.

Stopping time in Arcadia is different from stopping time anywhere else. I didn’t know if it’s because Arcadia had a longer string of time or if there was too much magic here, but stopping time here was more like bending it in half and squishing it together.

Everything pauses. The queen is still, like a statue and although I want to touch her, logic dictates that if her powers are in touching others, me touching her would essentially be the same. I shouldn’t touch her and I don’t.

“This is better,” I tell Angelus.

“Your magic won’t hold up well here,” he says to me. “We’ve got a little while. You should look for him,” he says referring to the ArchDuke.

I nod. “You’re right. I should look for him. Where did Xyr go?” It’s a stupid question. “Of course he went to go look for him.” I shake my head at my own inability to catch on quickly and I glance at the queen once more before we headed in the direction that Xyr had disappeared to.

There’s a room beyond the door and a hall and being in a gilded castle didn’t give me an excuse to stop and look at all the ornate designs and gold and gilded things. We run past the hall and many doors. I didn’t know where the doors led to and I didn’t know where I’m going, but I’m hoping Angelus has a better sense of direction than I did. Yet, as I pass one f the doors on the left, I suddenly stop and stare at the door. It looks exactly like all the rest of the doors. Nothing’s special about it. But I stopped running and that must mean that there’s something in there worth looking at or finding out about.

I glance over to Angelus. “It’s s trick, an illusion. There is no dungeon.”

He looks confused and I open the door. Inside was an empty room, a bedroom and I found myself thinking about Sleeping Beauty. The ArchDuke wasn’t a teenage girl, but there’s Xyr and on the bed is him. Yet, with the flicker of something like two pictures overlapping, the scene is gone and in its place is once more the empty bedroom.

“You think something’s here?” Angelus asks me.

He’s here,” I say. “The old man and Xyr. Can’t you see them?”

He peers for a while and shakes his head. “It’s empty,” he says.

I walk in and he follows me. “Back in the Otherworld, this one time when I was forbidden to go there, I would enter into a place much like this. It looked real and all the characters looked real, but they were fake. It was a fake world because the real one, I couldn’t get to. And in that fake world, a fake Demonico told me I should leave. It wasn’t until I saw what he meant that I finally left. And when I saw the truth, it was like this, like two worlds overlapping each other, one hiding the other.” I turn and look at him. “Are those from the Otherworld faes too? There were demons and many different creatures. I would’ve been stuck in that world if he had not told me. And he suffered for telling me.”

I think back to that time, a time when I couldn’t enter the Otherworld because of my bitterness and the destruction I potentially could cause. So a new world was created for me. Was it faery magic? But this and that then is very similar. If not for that time, I might’ve thought I was losing my mind. My way isn’t lost.

“How did I break out of that world?” I ask myself. Angelus wouldn’t remember. He’s new and the old one I had back then was killed by a vampire, one I thoroughly enjoyed going after to kill. But how did I break out of that world? It’s easier than breaking out of this one since I have both Angelus and Xyr with me here.

“Let’s pierce the veil,” I say. Maybe it made sense why stopping time here was actually bending time in half and squishing it. Things I don’t yet comprehend.

I stand over the bed, next to a non-existent Xyr–which just occurred to me that if he was able to get to the old man, then so should I. “Come, Angelus,” I say to my Guardian. “Let’s not let the new guy make us look bad.” I laugh and he only gave me a frown. It was a direct challenge to us and knowing Angelus, he didn’t like confrontations much. I spread my hand over the place where the ArchDuke lay in a sleep-like death and I pierce the veil.

Except, the veil isn’t pierced. It’s like trying to move my hand through a bucket of thick and gooey molasses without the stickiness. It didn’t work. Frustrated, I waved my hand and the real scene appeared. Angelus glances at me.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“I shoved it somewhere else,” I replied. I didn’t think of doing it before. It just happened. But it worked and that’s what matters.

Xyr looks over to me and I to him. ‘”You’re here,” he says.

I laugh. “Yes, I’m here. You all sound so surprised.”

“Strong magic is hard to get through,” he tells me. I nod.

“I know. I simply cast it aside. No point in getting through when the real world lies beneath.” I didn’t know if that makes sense, but right now, my priority’s waking up Sleeping Beauty here. “Any ideas?” I ask them both. I think of asking the queen and then I realize she wasn’t here. She left with the fake world, perhaps a world she created.

“It’s a spell,” Angelus says. “Faery magic.”

I smile, thinking about true love’s kiss. I didn’t love the ArchDuke. Love’s a concept beyond me. Besides, fairy tales only belonged to Disney and not here, even if faeries exists here.

“We can’t leave him sleeping forever,” I say to them. I’m not going to try and kiss the old man. The thought’s funny and I smile to myself. “Ideas, fellas. We’ve not really much time although now, Arcadia should be as if Medusa herself had strolled in here and turned all to stone.”

“Wake him,” Xyr says to me. I glance over to him. And he’s supposed to be the most powerful of us all. Yet, faerie magic is different from his magic and I see the complications in trying to expel one withe the other.

“I have an idea,” I say. “Might be stupid and troublesome, but when I’m out of ideas, this is what I do.” Angelus turns to me and he raises an eyebrow. Knowing me well enough, he’s definitely not going to be surprised.

“What do you suggest?” Xyr asks.

“An expert,” I reply with a grin. “Demonico.” A second later, he stands behind Xyr to my right and gives me a confused look. “Hello old friend,” I say with a smile. He looks at the other two and the old man sleeping on the bed and then back to me. It helps that he can travel between worlds. That’s what makes things so much easier.

“You called me?” he says, using my real name. I nod. “I can take guesses, but it would be nice for you to tell me what you need.”

I point to the ArchDuke. “Faery magic,” I said. “I need you to remove the spell. I don’t know how to do it.”

He scoffs. “What makes you think I know how to do that?”

I walk over and push him towards the bed. “Because you can do anything,” I say. And it’s true. He can do anything. He turns to me.

“I’m not sure this is my area of specialty,” he says. “Did you try anything yet?” I shake my head.

“You’re my try,” I tell him. He laughs. “When I run out of ideas, I come to you.”

He smiles at the other two and then at me. “You flatter me,” he says, using my real name.

“Come on,” I say, pushing him towards the old man. “Do something or help me do something to wake him up.”

Xyr glances over to me. “You trust him?” he asks me. “He’s a –” The word is blocked from me. I glance from Demonico back to Xyr.

“I’ve known him for an eternity,” I say. “I trust no one, but he’s the best thing I’ve got.” Xyr doesn’t look convinced and I touch his arm. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I can handle that one if he gets out of line.”

Demonico laughs and I stick my tongue out at him. “You wish,” he says.

“I’ve already done it,” I tell him. He smiles and turns his attention to the old man. Angelus walks over to me and Xyr. We give Demonico room. He gets pretty into whatever he’s doing and sometimes, it causes trouble.

I’m standing there, assessing the options, just thinking about what could be done so we can wake the ArchDuke from his slumber. Demonico touches him and all the green flames reminds me of Maleficent and how she cursed the princess. Yet, I wouldn’t have touched the old man, not because there’s something wrong with him, but because there’s faery magic on him. How did Demonico…? Then I remembered how he fell into the lake and was the only one ever to walk out of there alive. The lady of the lake is fae and all who fell in or tried to reach the tree in the center of the lake was consumed by her, all except him. Is Demonico fae? No. Then what is he?

As I’m pondering thoughts, the ArchDuke wakes and Demonico turns to me with a smile. “There,” he says as he walks towards me and away from the bed. “You owe me one.”

I laugh. “Yeah, right. There’s no owing in this friendship,” I tell him. I kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks. Take care.”

“You too,” he says, patting me on the head. And he disappears.

The ArchDuke glances to see me and Xyr. Angelus isn’t visible. Rather, he leaves too. “You’re here?” the old man asks. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I laugh. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that to me,” I tell him. The first was when he caught me wandering in Arcadia, close to the Iron Tower. It was indeed by accident. “I came to see you and I met the queen.”

He frowns. “Did she hurt you?”

I shake my head. “I’m well,” I say. “She’s probably wondering where she’s at right now, even though she can’t yet move.”

He looks confused. “She can’t…move?”

“It’s a long story,” I say with a smile. “Are you okay now? Xyr and I were worried. He came too.”

The old man looks up and I realize that Xyr is also gone. Everyone leaves suddenly without goodbyes. “It’s okay now,” he says. “How come you’re here?”

“By chance,” I reply. “I happened to glance in and I saw the queen. I didn’t see you, but I knew she was waiting for me.”

“You shouldn’t come. It’s dangerous now.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” I tell him.

He sat up and took my hands in his. “Things are falling apart here,” he tells me. “I don’t want you to come back. Arcadia’s about to be at war. It’s not safe.”

I laugh. “You know I’m not human here, right? I’m more worried about you. What will happen when she finds her way back?”

“I hope so,” he says. “We will lose without her.”

“I’ll bring her back,” I say. “After I leave here.”

“Why did you come?” he asks again for the third time. I look at him oddly.

“To see you,” I reply.

He smiles. “You shouldn’t be here,” he tells me. And I feel like we’re repeating a conversation that’s already been said.

“I know. I won’t.”

“You promise?”

I nod my head. “Yes, I promise,” I say. Promises are oral contracts to faes. The ArchDuke isn’t fae.

“It will not be safe here,” he says. “You go live your life and be happy. I’ll make sure the war doesn’t spill over to your side.”

“On earth?” I ask. “War will be waged here too?”

He nods. “Only if I fail to contain it to Arcadia. It’s not fail-proof, but it should be enough.”

“You know I can help,” I say.

“You can live,” he tells me. “That is help enough.” He stands and I don’t understand. “You must go,” he tells me.

“What about you?” I ask. “What if the queen does the same thing to you again?”

He smiles. It’s been a while since he smiled. “She won’t. She needs me. I give her the advantage.”

“Be safe,” I tell him.

“You worry too much about an old man,” he says. “You are young. You still have your whole life ahead of you.”

“And there’s not anything to it,” I tell him. “If I can help, why won’t you let me help?”

“You have a destiny.”

I laugh, unbelieving. “We make our own destinies,” I tell him. “I don’t have a future that’s that important there and besides, I don’t get hurt here. I can be of use here.”

He bends down and presses his lips to my forehead. “You’re needed there,” he says. “You will know. Don’t give up.”

I almost grumble. I know what he’s saying, but I don’t really care to trust it or believe it. I am weak. I am second best. I am whatever other people want to push their opinions on me. He stares and I give him a smile.

“I understand,” I say. “Whether the future comes or not, you know that I will help you if you need me.”

He smiles. “An old man does not need the help of a young one,” he says. “Go now,” he says.

I nod my head and hug him. “See you then, old man,” I say with a smile.

“Goodbye,” he says. I didn’t say goodbye. I smile and leave.

The others were waiting for me. “You okay?” Xyr asks. Who knew he even concerns himself with me. I nod. “Fine,” I say. “For the moment, Arcadia is off limits to us. There may be war coming. It’s okay. We’ll be here and we’ll be safe.”

“Are you okay?” Angelus asks.

I nod my head. “Everyone wants this future for me that I don’t even want because neither does the others want,” I say. “It’s ridiculous dreaming and I’m not about to hold out for something I know isn’t true and isn’t going to come true.”

“You have us,” Shaar says. I grin and hug him. He’s so fluffy!

“Yes, I have you all.” I glance up at Angelus, the one who refuses to leave me be. I turn to Xyr, the one who tricked me into taking him on as one of us. And Shaar, my beautiful blue wolf that I ripped out of Jon. His twin wasn’t even blue. Why is he the anomaly? “It’s good to be home,” I say, realizing that dangers lurked around corners of worlds invisible. If they reach here, which they won’t because the old man will keep his promise, I will deal with them then.

I bring the faerie queen back from where I stuck her and release the time hold on Arcadia. Then I shut that world out until the time when it calls out to me. I made a promise. I’ll keep that promise.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on June 5, 2014 in Ongoing Story Progression

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Adventures of Maeve in Arcadia, Land of the Faes

“What is it that keeps you here?” I asked him. He was old, probably older than dirt which only meant that he was ancient, but he was human in all the senses that humanity were. He ate. He breathed. And he watched football. Or at least that was my impression of it.

“Duty,” he replied. The ArchDuke was no stranger to being in the land of Arcadia. He guarded the iron tower, a place I’ve seen in my dreams and a place I thought would keep me safe. It was him who grabbed me that day. I had trespassed into the world of the faes, unknowingly and foolishly. Yet, that Arcadia was different from this one. That one was filled with desert and sand. This one was filled with grass and of course, an open mine field as the iron tower was highly booby-trapped. It was not an open place for visitors.

“You know my duty will be over soon. I will leave.”

He glanced up at me. “I’ve come to view you as a daughter,” he said. I wondered if that was a lie or if it was truth. I couldn’t tell. Being human made him dishonest and being ancient made him cunning. “I wouldn’t want you to go so soon.”

I sighed and gave him the best smile I could. I pulled the parchment paper out of my pocket and held it up to him. “I have a free pass to enter and leave as I please,” I replied. “I’m certain I shall visit.”

“Even I only visit here,” he told me. That much was true. The ArchDuke didn’t live in Arcadia, at least not to my knowledge. Where his home was, I wasn’t sure, but I knew it wasn’t here on earth…

Was it?

My mind flickered to a boy, a man, really who was a decade older than I am–but ages aside, where did the ArchDuke live? Where did all supernatural creatures reside?

“Xyr is with me,” I replied. “I doubt I can get rid of that one although he is quite compliant at doing any bidding I need when I have need of him.” Treating dying gods not yet dead as servants wasn’t quite the idea they had in mind as reverence, but I highly doubted their interest in me didn’t include rendering me expendable so I might as well use what I’ve got and make the best of it.

For once, the ArchDuke chuckled. It was difficult to get a smile out of him, much less, something halfway between a smirk and a laugh.

“And that is why you feel so much like a daughter to me.”

“Don’t tell me they’ve kept you locked here away in this castle, pretending you’ve got freedom when you’re really a slave, and didn’t even allow you the courtesy of having children around.”

“No, my dear. You see, I don’t have any children. I’ve already had them.” And somehow, there stretched generations and generations forth of his kin, carving their own fates through time to the current present.

“I feel for you,” I told him. His blue eyes were still so blue and he wore black now, as if our parting was meant to be a heavy heart event. “I wouldn’t want to live forever. I’m not exactly immortal character. I’m much more immoral and that doesn’t fit well with any length of time and unimaginable power.”

He laughed and I wondered if his laughs were an attempt at a last goodbye. I couldn’t stay. Okay, I lied. I could’ve, but Arcadia wasn’t my home and to be split into pieces like I am now–really did no harm, but the point of the matter was that my time was up. I vassalized myself and now, the deed is finished.

The thought of the human vessels I owned came to mind and I pushed the thoughts away. Whether this was the same thing or not, I wasn’t too keen on becoming anyone’s property. Vessels held whatever their owners wanted in them. Mine held demons I pulled out of the children of men. Most of those entities now float in free space, cast off into the farthest reaches of the universe, bound with no hopes of returning. What was I to him? A vessel for a god? No. A god who couldn’t out best my god, which wasn’t even a god at all, is no god. And yet, they each have their own personalities and their own pasts.

“You are a dear one,” he said. “Make no mistake of that.”

I grinned. “You only like me because I know your grandson.”

He erupted in laughter at that. I imagined him like William–blond, blue eyed, going bald–perhaps a bit of an Englishman if I was able to pinpoint his origins. “Grandson? No, and yes. A child of Xyr’s is a child of mine.”

“My same point,” I replied. I was told very few things, short of being told that I was crap and worthless as well. The thoughts anger me as the one who said it angers me and I wished to banish him to the deepest darkest depths of hell if that was possible, yet he resides a constant image in my head and that, I hated and loved all at the same time.

“That would make you a granddaughter.”

I shrugged. “I like old people. It’s fine. You should see my collection. Currently, I have three old ladies that I like, two old men, and I’m certain that collection is growing. I can throw both you and him in there, and Xyr too since he’s quite up there in age.”

“You don’t cease to amuse me,” he replied.

“You sound like many other men,” I told him. “I wish one other person thought so.”

“He will,” the ArchDuke replied. “In time.”

“I wish not to be here in time.” I turned away. The place was so empty. It must’ve been lonely for him being here for so long. Where were all the servants? The dragon keepers and tenders–where were they? The castle was void of life and of even the faintest sounds of footsteps.

“You want to leave now?” I didn’t know if that was genuine pain in the inflection in his voice.

“You said I should leave as soon as I can,” I told him. “He said I did this to myself, which I did and he never forewarned me, knowing it all.”

“You’re disappointed.”

If there were such things as giants, the ArchDuke was one. He towered me and stood perhaps seven feet tall. Or maybe I only felt that small that he was so big. I’ve been disappointed many times and with many people. One more wouldn’t break me.

“I did say you should leave. The world of faes is not for humans.” He paused. “You are here now. You still wish to go?”

“I cannot stay beyond the agreement made.”

“A broken agreement.”

“I held up my end of the bargain, until Mayfel disappeared.”

“And you will never find her,” he whispered in my ear from behind. His hands were steady on my shoulders, heavy as if all the magic he now possessed would turn me to stone at that point so I was going to become a permanent fixture in his home, a cure for his loneliness, perhaps. Where were the dragons?

“I don’t wish to find those that betray me.”

“You betrayed her first,” he said.

“I didn’t realize I was betrayed by someone I trusted,” I replied. It was easy to trust him, as easy as it was to trust his beloved and look where I went wrong there. Three times I was warned to not trust her and I did. Look how far I fell! And twice now, I’ve been warned to being disappointed by him. I know a third one is not far behind. I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or betrayal.

“Don’t be so sad,” he said. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

I nodded. “What of you?” I asked him. “What will happen to you?

He smiled. “Funny you worry about me. I will go back to the way that things were before you came.”

That was understandable. If I stayed any longer, I feared the Sims would no longer satisfy my evil cravings for death and destruction and I would take my rampage on existing worlds. Boredom drives me to terrible dangers.

A voice echoes in my head, one that spews out criticism and self-doubt for me. One that chains me with his notions of the insignificance of my existence. Fuck you, I thought to the voice. Since you believe me to be weak, why do you keep tearing me down with your own opinions of my insignificance? Who cares if I believe that I make a difference to others? Since I don’t mean a damn thing to you, fuck off.

The voice wavers and is silent. He’s still silent.

“I will come visit,” I told the ArchDuke. “I am good on my words.”

“I know you are,” he said. He hesitated and I knew he have watched us from the beginning of the agreement.

“You want me to tell him something?” I asked.

“If you don’t mind,” he replied.

“He only bothers me when I think about the bad,” I said. “Most of the time, I’m stupid happy to hear from him so if you have a message, I shall give it to him.”

He nodded. He doesn’t look as old as he is. Was if fae magic that kept him ageless? Or was it my own perversion of not wanting to develop a fetish for old people since I everyone I do take a liking to is much older than myself? It’s the conversation that interests me. Old people can hold an intelligent conversation that isn’t filled with vulgarity and sex and the ignorance of today’s youth and that’s what attracts me.

“What he’s looking for is right in front of him,” the ArchDuke said. “If he can’t understand it, then he’s not as bright as I’ve given him credit for.”

I laughed. “He’s bright, alright. It’s catching him in a talkative mood which makes the difference. And that’s slim to none lately.”

“He’ll come around,” was all he said to me.

“I’m leaving, you know,” I told him. “New York, maybe. I’d like to go to Japan, but that’s a bit of a stretch right now. Maybe I’ll get lost amongst the crowd in the big city.”

“You’re never lost in the crowd.” He pressed his lips on my forehead like he does at times. Then he stiffened and with eyes that sparkled, said in a cold voice to me. “You’re free to leave now.”

I almost protested the icy departure command, but I realized he had a visitor. The ArchDuke hardly ever had visitors. I said nothing, stared at him as I bowed, and walked off in the opposite direction, not looking to see who was the one who entered into the chambers. By the magic content, it was fae. And by the familiarity of a chest stab to the heart, it was female. It was the winter Queen.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on May 15, 2014 in Ongoing Story Progression

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,