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It’s All Relative

“My old friend, how have you been?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “I saved a fae. That’s about it.”

We laughed. Charly took my hand and kissed my fingers. He was always a sweet gentleman. “And how goes the world?”

I smiled at the kindness, but shook my head at the question. “The world is a mess,” I replied. “It’s different and devolving, but what can you do? They’re just mere mortals.” He nodded in agreement. “Besides, I’m more interested in how you have been. How are things here?”

He drank his tea the same as he has always taken it, a lot of grey with a bit of Earl, just a sprinkle of a fingernail or a hair to add flavor to the cup. “You’ve been gone a long while,” Charly said to me. “It’s been quiet. There hasn’t been much that has changed.”

“I think it’s good not much has changed.” I drank my tea, sweetened with a bit of honey. I didn’t drink tea like how I used to. Everything tasted better sweeter. “Even I haven’t changed that much. I’m still running away from things.”

We laughed and he shook his head. “Is it always so hard for you?” he asked me. “You deserve some bit of happiness in your life.”

“I’m working on it,” I replied. “I’m just impatient for things to get to where I want it to be. It’ll get there, eventually. The hardest things are the kinks,” I told him. He leaned in to listen. “There’s just a bit of annoyance.”

“What annoyance?” he asked. “It’s hard to imagine things irking you.”

I laughed. “Try becoming human. Everything is an annoyance then.” He chuckled. I wasn’t sure if he was ever human. From the moment I met him, he had never been to that world. “I think I’m stuck,” I began again. “It’s like a loop that keeps playing over and over again.”

“Tell me more,” Charly inquired.

“Remember Anna?”

He nodded. “How could I forget?” he asked me. “She’s still married to our best friend.”

“Yes, him.” I paused for a moment. “When they met, the three of us were dark and corrupted, terrible and horrid in our ways.” Charly grinned. He knew exactly how we were. We weren’t kind by any means. We killed and plundered and did such evil things, it was a wonder as to why we all were able to retire quite peacefully and safely in this world. “Well, when Demonico met Anna, she was sweet and innocent and unblemished. A spoiled princess she was. He was smitten from the moment he met her and he wooed her with words I’ve never heard from him ever.”

“Are you still upset about that?” His cheery brows twisted with concern.

I smiled and shook my head. “It was long ago. I’ve long moved past that now.” He nodded and I continued. “Well, the annoyance was exactly that and them and how it just replays even now. Must we all be sweet and innocent and unblemished to be protected? Sometimes I yearn for that, just someone to say they’d save me, even if I never required rescuing. It’s just the comfort of being loved enough that someone would that makes it good to hear.”

“I would save you,” Charly said.

“You did,” I replied. “And I thank you for it.”

He gave me a smile and I smiled back. He saved me long ago when my home was burned to the ground. There was nothing left but ashes and a trail of slime which led into the waters, back to from where they came out of the deep. They were beautiful with their jellied bodies and flashing blue and red lights, bio luminescent in the darkness of the night. I should’ve said something. I should’ve warned someone. I was a helpless brain dead fool who couldn’t remember herself, let alone the generations she lived in that small coastal town where everyone she grew to love grew old and died, leaving her behind.

“Anyhow, it’s different this time. The annoyances aren’t much now, only sometimes when my mind becomes frantic with frustrations and fears. I will wait to hear him say the things I want to hear when he’s ready, when he means it, and when it comes from him and from his heart. It might actually work this time, this happiness thing that eludes me so much. I might have it and I hope I do.”

“I hope you do too,” Charly told me. His expression was the same, a bit soft and sharp at the same time, but he was happy for me. “I am glad it is working out.”

I nodded. “It is working.” I was happy about it working too. Another thought came to mind. “About the fae,” I said. “She is mine. I don’t think any harm would come to her and she should very well stay out of trouble, but the moment something happens, please give me a call. I am keeping one here following her in twilight, but you know how faes are. She understands that the moment she disobeys, she will be under lock and key and a prisoner. I doubt she wants that as faes love their freedom all too much, even if it’s only an illusion.”

“There hasn’t been any accidents,” he assured me. “Mayfel will be fine.”

“And if you ever need gold, you know where I stash mine.”

He laughed. Charly didn’t need gold, ever. We all retired handsomely with enough to last us until the end of the world and beyond. “Thanks,” he answered with a smile. He paused for a moment. “Must you go so soon?”

I nodded. “If I stay longer, you know what will happen.”

“You eat the food in my fridge?” He grinned and I laughed.

“Yes! But no, really. My mind will drift and I wouldn’t be able to hold consciousness in the other place.”

“So lose consciousness,” Charly said to me. “It’s okay for you to relax a little.”

“You don’t know my life,” I replied. “Relaxing is an understatement. Losing consciousness is an understatement.” I laughed. “I have to go. There are many, many things I should do that I’m not doing. There are things I need to find again, old gods I need to be friends again with and so forth.”

“Old gods?” He wasn’t sure if I meant what he thought I meant or if I meant something else entirely. The latter was the correct one.

“The ones that can’t kill us,” I told him. “We let them be what they are. They don’t know what we are and I like it that way.”

He nodded in agreement. There was something freeing about not being noticed. “I’m sorry about not being there for you,” he told me.

I smiled and shook my head. “It’s past,” I said. “We already spoke of it.”

“I didn’t hear you.” He felt pained.

“I know,” I comforted him. “I don’t hold it against you. When I died, I didn’t die, I simply faded into the ether. He thought I died. Silly old gods and all.”

“I’m sorry you were alone.”

“Don’t be.” I got up and walked over and hugged him. “I was lonely then. I wasn’t alone.”

I despaired at the time. I was foolish and hurt at the time. I was suicidal at the time. But nothing happened. I died. He believed I died. And I sat there watching him turn back to his millions of constructs and all his human subjects whose potential apparently was greater than mine. I was glad he didn’t see me cry. I don’t remember how long I was crying. Through blurry eyes, there was a hand and I reached out for it. The man with the green eyes. He came to me when no other heard my cries.

“I’m not losing consciousness anymore,” I informed Charly with a laugh.

“Does that mean I’ll get to keep you longer?” he asked with a smile.

I shook my head. “No, it just means I have other things to do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Come again, Chao,” Charly said to me. I nodded and made a mental note to come again soonish.

 
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Posted by on November 30, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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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.”

 
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Posted by on May 14, 2015 in Ongoing Story Progression

 

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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.

 

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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.

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

 

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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.

 
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Posted by on June 5, 2014 in Ongoing Story Progression

 

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The Price of Silence

My day was beautiful and happy…but now I’m worried. And it bothers me because I can’t have one perfectly good day without something going on. Maybe I’m just being stupid about all of it, but I know better. What am I missing? Connect the dots. I didn’t see it sooner. I hope I’m wrong. And if I’m not wrong, I hope I’m not too late.

Five years ago, Brian stopped talking to me. Out of the blue. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t tell anyone why. We were very good friends. I was mad. I was so mad because I didn’t do anything wrong. So I let him walk away. That was sometime in May.

Five months later, I was driving really early in the morning to work. I worked at a bakery and I had to open the store at 4am to start baking. Work was over an hour away from where I lived. I was on a four-lane highway and there were no cars in either direction. It was October and I was running a bit late for some reason. I drove a 4-door Toyota Corolla. I was in one of the middle lanes. As I was driving, the headlights caught this huge shape on the side of the road. It was bigger than my car. And it was dead. It was a wolf, the biggest creature I’ve ever seen in my life.

Strange things happen to me. I’m not a stranger to it. The wolf was on its side with its back towards the road. The headlights hit the backside, the tail, the legs, the body, the head…it was surreal. No such thing existed and I knew that. But I saw it as clear as day and I knew what it was. I didn’t have time to swing back around and take a second look. I wished I did. There were no leaf piles, nothing on the side of the road, no buildings in sight and the tree line was a good far distance from the road. There was no logical explanation for the dead body I knew I saw. I wasn’t half asleep and I don’t do drugs. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. But all day long, I knew something was wrong and I had to wait an entire work shift before I could go home and find out what happened.

I had forgotten about Brian up until that morning. My life was busy. Besides, Brian lived in Florida. I lived in South Carolina. He stopped talking to me back in May and I let it be. He had an affinity to wolves. Let’s just say that I took Shaar, the wolf I have now, from Jon, an Alpha.

My life suddenly sounds like a Patricia Briggs romance novel without the romance. Real life is stranger than fiction. And Brian was a very special individual. He was the only seer whose sight could keep up with mine. But that’s a different story.

I will never forget the words Tiffany said to me when I called her after I got home and searched for her number. “Didn’t anyone tell you? Brian died in July.”

It was a joke, right? It had to be. Brian couldn’t be dead. He was seventeen. He had a whole life to live ahead of him. How could he just die? And she gave me the obituary link and the newspaper and when I looked, I couldn’t stop crying. Brian did die. Shot gun to the chest. In the middle of his high school football field. It was ruled out as a suicide. I knew better. I lost three people that same way that year. Brian was the first. A distant uncle was the second. Hunting accident. Right through the chest. And my cousin was the third–the only one I liked in that family who was a halfway decent guy. He had seven kids and the gun found by his body was tested and found to have never been shot. No one heard anything all night, even the neighbor who was up and the houses barely had enough space between them to walk through. It happened in the backyard. He didn’t kill himself.

Jon said that Brian was happy. The night before he died, Jon and Brian hung out and drank and had a good time. They were up all night laughing and chilling out. Tiffany said that there was no indication that he would take his own life. They were supposed to have been moving to Washington that summer. Florida wasn’t the place for them. They were going to meet Tiffany’s mate and they were all going to Washington. Brian wanted me to move with them. Jon approved. But I wasn’t a part of that world. I told Brian I couldn’t go. That wasn’t my life and I was sorry. We were just really good friends.

We were okay until Brian’s ex came back into the picture. I wasn’t interested so the woman who was around my age (24) didn’t bother me. People did what they wanted. I don’t control anyone’s life. But Brian worried because his ex was powerful. And jealous. He didn’t want her to hurt me. I understand wanting to protect someone, but don’t block me out because you think it’s for my own good. Arianna wanted to be with him again and he stopped talking to me to protect me. All this didn’t come from him. It came from Jon who later explained things to me.

Before Brian died, there was a part where he told Jon that he couldn’t fight the demons anymore. He couldn’t take it anymore. This was all after we stopped talking. I felt guilty for a long time…like I could’ve stopped him from dying if I tried. It was a choice he made and I went along with it and the consequences were dire.

And here, the past comes back to haunt me. Brian’s gone. I can’t change that. But something else is happening to someone I care about right now and I am not about to lose someone else. I can’t save the world, but I can sure as hell not let the same thing happen again.

A very good friend of mine stopped talking to me about a month ago. I can’t imagine why because we were very good friends. He got a girlfriend around that time, a mutual friend of ours whom I’m also very close to. No one knows why he stopped talking to me. He went off at another friend who mentioned my name to him. Strange behavior. And I was confused and a bit mad. I let him walk away too. I didn’t connect the dots until today when I heard a song that he sent me in the past and I knew something was going on. Something bad.

My day was happy and beautiful. My friends were amazing. I’m very lucky. I have found incredible and wonderful people whom I can call friends. So all day today, I had a permanent cheesy grin on my face. And then it clicked. And now I’m worried. I’m worried for my friend who might be in over his head.

You won’t protect me if you get yourself hurt! I’d be hurt too!

Magic is a very real thing. And as unbelievable as it is, so are werewolves and vampires. And many other things. Most myths and legends are pretty much true tales.

Before my friend stopped talking to me, a girl who can’t seem to understand his disinterest in her wanted to find out the source of his power. Because I’m an idiot and I don’t care to guard myself or anything like that, the three she sent after him, came to me. He was doing something for me at the time. And I ate them. When I tracked them, they came from my friend. I didn’t believe it, so I asked Angelus who said they came from the girl.

When I asked him about it, he told me to let him investigate it some more. Knowing that the girl is super jealous and tries to claim him as her property, he wanted to make sure they came from her. But because they were specific to a certain sort of magic that she worked with, because of the way they appeared to me, and because Angelus said so, I had no doubt they came from her. It wasn’t very long after that incident that my friend stopped talking to me. I didn’t put two and two together back then. I understand it now.

My good friend is his girlfriend. I don’t want anything to happen to her either. I don’t personally know the girl who sent the three, but I’m not very fond of anyone or anything spying, holding hostage what’s mine, threatening me in my own home, and trying to accomplish whatever odd thing they’re supposed to do. I’m not a good person. It brings the evil out of me. And there’s a lot of evil.

I am not going to let my friends be hurt by some selfish immature child who wants to power trip, no matter how old that child is. Or arrogant. I don’t think there’s anyone more arrogant than I am. And I don’t mind at all to prove that.

Brian kept me out of his life to keep me from being hurt. In the end, he was the one who got hurt. I’m not completely heartless. That hurt me too.

Keeping me in the dark and keeping me out of your life won’t protect me from being hurt if you end up getting hurt. Just because I avoid magic doesn’t mean that I won’t use it and I’ve got an incredible sight. Life is filled with enough pain and suffering. People shouldn’t hurt other people. And they say I’m the monster.

I miss you. I’m sorry you left.
We were very good friends.
I’ll be with you when you enter the shadows.

 
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Posted by on May 28, 2014 in Diary

 

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