Showing posts with label A Bewitching Rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Bewitching Rain. Show all posts

Sunday, December 15, 2013

A Bewitching Rain 3




“Why have we returned?” Angelica questioned when they arrived back in the peppermint field of Cameroon. 
“It’s as the blind one said,” Sage replied, marching swiftly through the field. “A full circle to be made.” 
Angelica jogged to catch it with his long strides, her cloak twisting around her legs. “You believe the beginning is the end. That the answer to your problem originates from the problem.”
“Precisely.” The problem was the shield whose strength was determined by that of the opponent. Since that was the case, then he best change the opponent.  
He had spent years tracking through all corners of the world, other worlds, searching for better, stronger, greater power that superseded that of Siti’s. Finally, merely a footstep away from it, he could feel all his plans lining in order. All he needed to do was get through that shield. 
“That’s plausible,” Angelica said. “The children of my village, when they play a game where one person hides an item the others must search for, they usually hide it in plain sight. Maybe—
Angelica shifted backwards, flipping out of the way. 
Sage caught the arrow aimed for her, snapping it in half with one hand. “Guard yourself. We’re being attacked.”
“I gathered that when an arrow flew towards my head.” 
Sage flicked his ears, his nose, and wiped his thumbs over his eyes to heighten his senses. Mages didn’t posses supernatural senses are strong as those of other paranormal creatures. Sage inhaled deeply. His nose twitched and he spat on the ground. “Smells like damn cake. Damned Butterflies.”
Light fae spilled out of the surrounding trees, circling him and Angelica. 
“This is as fae as you go,” the green skinned faerie said.
What did light fae want with the magic that lay within the mountain? The magic was rare natural, earthy, everything opposite those glamour wearing butterflies were used to. The sheer force of the power alone was great enough to rip a man in tatters. 
That’s why Sage sought it. He was strong enough, his magic powerful enough to handle what lay in the mountain. And no glittering faerie was going to stop him. 
“Burn.” Fire swirled from his core, rippling out in ring after ring that burned everything it touched. With the exception of Angelica, of course. Now wasn’t her moment to perish. 
The faeries dodged, but the fire snaked and wrapped around the leg of one who stumbled and grabbed his comrade for support before the flames incinerated them both. 
Behind him Angelica ran through the men with the speed of a true predator. Her jabs were short and quick as she dropped the faeries like the flies they were, one by one. She reached into her cloak, clutching a bone dagger, embedding it into the silver faerie who suddenly appeared to her right. 
She moved with precision, but didn’t aim to kill. Not even when she found herself surrounded by seven fae.
Steady as the falling snow
Silent as the winter night
He who walks the land alone
A might King without a throne
“What the hell are you doing?” Sage snapped when she beginning to sing angelically, soothingly as she weaved in and out, avoiding their attackers. 
Many he meets upon his path
Who point and laugh and fade with wrath
The faeries became sluggish until they dropped to the ground in a slumber so deep not even an eruption from Mongo ma Ndemi would awake them.
His eyes twitched. He didn’t even want to know. 
He flicked a finger and watched one guy’s skin boil and bubble as he cooked from the inside out, falling dead to the ground within a minute. A wave of his hand and he cast two men through a portal into the fiery hells of the lava that churned within the mountain, trapping them. 
He held up his hand, a metallic bulb formed. He tossed it up into the air where it expanded and exploded, raining down upon the landed, he threw a shield over Angelica for a simple drop of the rain would end her life as it did  the butterflies who all fell to their death from his shower. 
He looked around until for any sign of life remaining. There were none.
Angelica shook her head at the carnage before her. So much death, so unnecessary. 
Sage through up his shield of invisibility. “Let's go,” he tossed over his shoulder, snatching her hand in his, their pace hastened. He was too close to wait, and if he was delayed any longer Cameroon would learn of his desolation. 




Angelica skidded to a stop in front of the barrier when Sage flung her away in front of him. He walked along the shield, his eyes blind to what truly lay there. “Tell me, has it changed in the night?” 
When he first came upon the shield, and all the times that followed, it has been a simple barrier that prevented him from taking what lay within. Except for the last time. She said it was a shield of death, one that grew in strength from he who stood before it said the blind Fae. 
He locked his hands behind his back, impatiently flexing his fingers. He formed a gold spiral in one hand, a blue in another.  
“It remains the same,” she said. “You’ve gained meaning from Fae’s words, though I know not how you plan get through this shield.”
“It’s rather simple.” 
“Is it?” She turned his gaze from the shield to him. 
His tips curled at the corners, a dark smile spreading. “I just need to do this.” He threw the gold spell at her, watching it drill through her chest, spreading within her body like a chain of electricity, ripping, tearing, and sizzling everything it touched. She shrieked in pain, collapsing to her knees gagging, gasping. 
She glared up at him, her eyes blurred from pain and rage at his betrayal. 
“Nothing personal,” he assured her. “It’s as the blind one said, the shield is as strong as who stands before it, a sacrifice must be made.”
Angelica coughed, spilling blood onto the stone beneath her before taking a final breath and falling completely. He watched as her life drained, fine lines forming in the shield as it cracked and crumbled in places.
The magic of the shield increased depending on the strength of the magic of the person who stood before it. He figured it would register he and Angelica together, as one threat. Successfully killing Angelica would weaken the shield by half. 
He cast the blue spell at the fractured shield. It shattered. 
And for one brief second, Sage couldn’t breath. 
He did it. He really did it, acquired the magic he sought for so long, the answer to his problemat least that much closer to the answer. 
But now was no time for dallying. 
He flicked his hand, lifting the spell from the pits of the cave where it floated above the lava. It levitated before him. 
Finally. 
He palmed the magic. It vibrated with such force he readjusted his stance to hold his ground. Closing his palm around the pulsating orb, Sage absorbed the sheer magnitude of the magic in his hand.
And it was thrilling.
Beyond anything he’d ever felt. 
With every drop he gained, he felt ten times stronger, ten times better, ten times ready. 
He almost couldn’t believe this was happening. 
The orb grew smaller until he held all its magic inside him. 
Sage hung his head, his chest shaking with laughter, laughter that broke free and filled the cavern. He laughed and laughed and stopped.
Something wasn’t right. 
As quickly as the magic had entered, it seemed to leave. He felt it draining, leaving his body.
No. 
He spun around to see the magic hover over Angelica, settling into her. 
No. No. Why? “What is happening?”
Angelica pushed to her feet, standing and drawing all the magic into her. 
She raised her head, a smile that mirrored his own forming. She held up her hands, surveying them. She clapped her hands together, pulling him apart, a string of silver stretching between her hands. She flung it up where it dissolved like snow fall, and just like that, she went from the cloak covered Wolf Runner to a true Spirit Guardian, her white gown long and flowing, the outline of a bow there but not strapped to her back, her hair spilling long and dark down her back just to the small of her back. She was angelic.
And he was enraged. 
Sage cast a spell of immobility. “What happened?” he asked, another spell of death pointing at her. 
She blinked, his spelled falling from her like loosening ropes. 
“It seems the ceremony worked.”
Ceremony? “What ceremony?”
“The tea ceremony to welcome new members to the tribe. I served you in my tribes customary manner of welcoming new members, and you accepted that tea, and I am able to take from the members of my tribe. The sacrifice.
“You see,” Angelica said to Sage’s furious expression, “the magic you sought was mine, taken and locked away by Wolf behind a shield that I could not break and few were strong enough to. But you could. My father had a dream of the Black Mage who raged the Eastern lands with magic so dark and powerful he had no rival, the one who could return what was mine.
“It was I who created the labyrinth, I who spoke the rumors on the wind, I am the Creator.” 
“So you used me,” Sage thundered, his rage so great his body numbed. 
“Nothing personal,” she replied. “It seems our deal is complete. I helped you gain magic that you sought, and you helped me retrieve what is mine.” She turned and walked away. “But I will not send you away empty handed. For your troubles.” A crystal globe appeared in front of him. “A spell. One that even someone of your caliber would love.” 
Blinded by fury, Sage cast a curse of death at the spirit, but she vanished. 
Arg!” He yelled, his voicing booming, and the magma of the volcano exploding up and out from his anger, raining fire onto the lands. 
He heaved, his jaw clenched so tight blood spilled from his cheek. 
How dare she? How dare that little runt pull a fast one over on him? No one ever got the best of him and lived to see another day. He’d killed her, track her down and kill her. And he knew just how he’d do it. A slow, bloody, torturous death she’d suffer. 
He needed that magic. It was the one sure thing that would give him the edge of Siti. Without it, he was back at square one, back at watching his mother destroy everything. He fisted the spell absorbing it without a thought. A portal opened and Sage stepped through coming out back in the tribe’s villagethat wasn’t there. No sign of a village ever existing in that spot. 
It had all been a set up. Everything. 
One thing he’d never said before was that he’d been bested. His sister tried, but she never succeeded. He’d never gone up against his mother. But Angelica, the Lying Guardian had bested him. Mixing with his rage was a chilling sense of anticipation. Sage never lost against anyone and she would not be the first. 
Oh, he would find her. And then she’d learn the true depth of his power. 


OOOOOO



Seated at the kitchen table, Fae dropped her hands away from the crystal ball that showed her the past, present, and future. Her blindness not a limitation as the magic worked inside her head. She pressed the ball away and held her head up, angled towards the figure at the kitchen door. 
“She has returned, our Wolf Runner,” Fae said to the Shaman, in reference to the magic that flowed through Angelica. 
“All because of you, sister.” The Shaman took the seat across from his wife’s sister. He lit his pipe, the smoke filling the small room. It saddened him to see his wife’s twin, locked out of her home world by a psychotic brother who’d kill her if he knew where she hid. She roamed the physical world as the Blind Fae for centuries, guiding Angelica as her own mother could not. 
“I mustn’t stay long since he will surely know about what she’s reclaimed.” 
“Have you seen anything new?” he asked. 
“There are many paths with many outcomes, all happening, all possible.”
“Does remain on the path she should walk?” 
Fae pulled the crystal ball in front of her. She swirled her hands above it, mixing the smoke of the pipe into the ball. “Shall you gaze and see what lies in her future?” 
The Shaman sat back and laughed, his old bones popping. “I have seen, sister. I have always seen.” 





END of A BEWITCHING RAIN
(Sage and Angelica's story will continue later)

Sunday, June 23, 2013

A Bewitching Rain 2

誕生日おめだとう!!!これはプレゼント。









Moments ago, Sage exited the travel portal that opened in one of Cameroon’s expansive valley’s a few kilometers from the mountain range. Behind him the portal steadily shrank until it depressed with its swirling colors, its magic completely obliterated to those who wish to follow his magical trail allowing him to be untraceable. And alone. For only he exited the portal into Cameroon where the high noon sun beat down upon his form.  There was no need to search his surroundings. He could read the energy in the air, the lack of a presence other than his own. 
As a spirit guardian, it was probable that she would be bound to the tribe she protected, unable to cross the Atlantic ocean to another nation unless her tribe relocated. Considering the possibility, Sage lamented at the idea of retracing his steps back to the western lands. If he was lucky he’d find her in the same place they last stood. He doubted it. Which meant he’d have to march through that cold, damp, forest again until he reached that tribe who certainly wouldn’t like what he’d do to them if  he ever returned, especially if they refused to reveal how to contact that cursed guardian. 
“What is the name of that volcano ahead?” The Wolf Runner asked from over his shoulder. 
A lesser man would have screamed or jumped. Most certainly would have flinched. But Sage wasn’t a lesser man in any way. Though her sudden appearance surprised him, his curiosity of how she managed to appeared where she once wasn’t without his detection intrigued him. Seen yet not. Maybe he could persuade her to teach him that particular skill. 
“Mount Cameroon. Mongo ma Ndemi to the land.” 
“Oh great mountain,” Angelica said with a resound sigh. “Liquid fire sleeps silently, waiting to depredate the land, only ashes remain, all life extinguished, until new life begins.”
“Profound,” he murmured drily
Beneath her lower hood her eyes raked up to his head, down at his feet. “Mirrored before me.” 
A wave of something Sage couldn’t place flowed around, and just like that he could sense her there. Truly there beside him. With each passing second he pondered ways in which he could harness her skills, if not her power itself. He entertained the thought of stealing her power, helping her recapture it only to take it from her. It wasn’t that he couldn’t protect himself again a spirit or god, defeat one. It merely required more energy and focus than he could afford to spare. Not when he had to stop Siti before she stopped everything. And with the power of a Spirit, he could stop more than just his mother. Time would freeze in his reign. He put that thought on hold, a possibility to think upon later. 
“What I seek lies deep in the labyrinth beneath Mongo ma Ndemi. We shall go there for you to see that of which I speak.”
Surveying the ground around her feet oblivious to her companion, Angelica spun in a slow circle. “There are peppermint plants throughout this land.”
Eyes narrowed, Sage crooked his finger, forcing her to attention. “You will take notice when I speak to you. Let this be your only warning.”
She bit his finger. Hard. 
Sage sucked in a breath and snatched his hand away, a spell that would knock her down and out for days on the tip of his tongue.  
“He who last pointed his finger at me stole my magic,” Angelica said. “Never do that again. You have been warned.”
“Ha!” Sage guffawed, surprised that he found the prospect quite tittering. This female dared to challenge him. “Are you threatening me? What with?”  
“I have my ways.”
“Lower your hood so I can see my life flash within your eyes.” 
Angelica turned away, staring at the vast land of mint and wild flowers that stretched for acres untouched. “To threaten he who has acceded my request is most unintelligent. Wouldn’t you agree?” 
He could agree, and he would. Warning understood. To use magic on her was to lose her assistance. He had no doubt if she left, he’d almost never be able to trace her. Almost. He was diligent if nothing else. Determined. If she was his only choice and she decided to run, no matter where she thought to hide, he’d eventually find her. But why go through all that trouble? Sage never casted stones in his own house. Replacing what was damaged required more effort than he wish to give. 
So, fine. No magic directed at her. 
Yet. 
Because, the more he thought about it the more possessing powers of a Spirit Guardian appealed. Possessing magic of a spirit god, Wolf, made the pot all the more sweet. “Knowledge is the strongest weapon.”
She lowered to her hunches ever so gracefully, with an elegance that made his teeth hurt. During the few occasions Sage had visited the court his mother served, he'd witness so much poise he felt starched stiff upon his departure. 
"May I have a satchel?" She held up her hand expectantly, as if the satchel would just appear out of thin air. 
It did. 
"Thank you." 
Satchel in her lap, she plucked the peppermint leaves with pristine precision filling a small pocket of the bag.
"You're wasting my time, Wolf Runner."
"Time is of abundance, or irrelevance. It moves forth and back indifferent of if you move with it. Therefore it cannot be yours to waste." Softly, she stroke her fingers against the petals of a flower. "You must learn patiences Sage. That is key to achieving what you wish, not how much power you possess, fear you breed, or destruction you rain.”
His stare bore holes through her hood into her head, his fist clenched. She was such a contradiction. "You have patiently waited for the return of your powers, but it will be mine, fear of me, and what destruction I rain that will give you that you seek. Do not lecture me about what you know not." Sage walked away, towards the volcano. "Let's go."
Impudent little wench continued to pluck flowers as he stalked away, blatantly ignoring his order. His teeth would crack from the pressure of grinding his jaw if he didn’t remain calm. His restraint had never been tested so thoroughly in such a short span of time with only a few sentences spoken by a sprite of a female. Deep breath in, he exhaled a spell of coverage. Their footprints vanish, the land beneath their feet undisturbed. The spell would work until the reached the labyrinth. 
He was twenty meters away when he heard Angelica's soft footsteps behind. Silently, he listened and studied the way she moved. Her gait. How she distributed her weight between her feet to make as little sound as possible. She glided. It was a walk of stealth, one that had Sage turning to catch the hand that reached to him before she placed it on his arm. 
"There is something that watches," Angelica whispered. 
Numira.” A shield of absolute invisibility to all senses encompassed them. “Now there is not.” He dropped her hand like a hot potato. “Let’s go.”

The noon day sun began to set when Sage and Angelica finally, after unnecessary time wasted, reached the mountain. 
His temple throbbed, jaw clenched so tightly he’d have to pry it open. Numerous times he’d caught himself with a spell on his tongue directed at his procrastinating, sight-seeing company that just had to stop and smell the flowers at every opportunity. As if she hadn’t seen flowers before. He wanted nothing more to burn it all to the ground, a threat which had the Wolf Runner hesitating to stop and pick a different stupid flower or guide a caterpillar from one tree to another. Guardians, he thought with an eye roll. 
A wave of his hand opened the hidden entrance that led to the labyrinth. He cast an orb of light overhead that followed him inside the mountain. Scouring the entrance for traps or signs of entry after he last visited, he motioned for Angelica to follow behind. 
“That was a nice thing for you to do,” she said. 
“Don’t think highly of it. I need you alive, in one piece, unharmed.” His sole reason for wrapping a temperature protectant around her as they journeyed so deep into the volcano mere centimeter’s separated them from the Earth’s molten core.  
What blocked his possession of the spell was one thing, even if a being managed to come so far after facing down some of the most dangerous and dark magic known to man, the infernal heat of the location itself would kill off most. Also-
“There is a curse of death intertwined with this spell,” Angelica mumbled, fingering the solid wall of emptiness that prevent him from going further as she gazed down at the spiraling slither of silver bleeding purple magic that hovered above the lava. It was a beautiful thing that made it all the more dangerous for it masked the sheer power it contained.  “Intriguing.”
The air on the back of his neck raised. Not from the heat. Not from the spell. But because of her, the strange sense of something else slowly permeating the air. 
“To breach is to die. Absolutely. A painful insufferable death. That is the curse.” She angled her head. “Yet you live.”
“Then the curse is altered for it is not the same as it once was.” 
“Fae magic stretches throughout the spell. Very old fae magic.” 
“Those butterflies are not practitioners of that type of magic.”
“Perhaps they guard it for its true owner. The voices of the wind say they’ll do almost anything if it will leave someone indebted to them.”
Sage chuckled dryly. “There are worst things than being in a butterflies palm.”
“It is well you believe so for we need the fae’s knowledge to get through.” 
“Then we shell find one.”
Angelica held up her hand, a moment hesitation. “Not just a fae. The Fae. A seer. A prophet.”
Angelica had been able to cross the world to African land from the America’s, but he doubted she could get into Faery lands. They were a world of their own, one that bridged to the human world, with no actual connection to Earth, nothing that would allow a Spirit Guardian entry into that wacky forest those inbreeds called home. “Just how do you plan to enter Faery to find this fae?”
“I need not enter the Fae lands. Nor do you for who we seek resides here in the human plane of Asturias.”
A smile curved Sage’s lips. He’d had much fun in the Spanish lands centuries before when life wasn’t a consistent battle. His sister had taking him once. To a festival where he proceeded to get drunk off potent wines, sex the village virgins, and do other equally unintelligent yet fun things a young mage new to his immorality would do. It had been decades since he last returned. Would it have changed?
“Then we go.”
“To the northern most region of the mountain range. The Fae’s land is protected from all travel and locator magic by ruins that stretch the length of a modern day town, and must be journeyed by foot for her location is blind.”
Back into the wilderness
His irritation crumbled the path on which they stood. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“I think it is time for a break,” Angelica said sometime after midnight stopping at the forest edge near a lake. They walked for endless hours, the noon sun changing into the evening sun that set and given rise to a moon that now shone brightly from above, an unnatural winter chill in the air. “Before you kill another-“ she blocked his path when he reached his arm into the air at three winged creatures flying in the sky, a patch of black and green glittered against the moonlight. “Do not shoot them down. They have done nothing to you. They are not your enemies.”
“Dragons are forever a mages enemy.”
“Tonight give free pass.”
“You cannot save the world Angelica.”
“You should not destroy it for amusements sake like a child.”
Body wracked with tension, Sage turned until he and Angelica stood face to face. Her hood blocked her face, as did his, but there was no mistaken the intensity of his gaze. His voice low and dark he said,  “do not think to order me about, Little One, out of a false sense of security.” Cold blue fire licked across his hand, his trailed it down the side of her hooded face. “I may forget your value if you continue to push me.”
“You cast a single spell upon me, I’ll cut off those long locks of hair that hang from your hood.”
“Touch my hair, I’ll murder your village.” Throughout the day she trailed behind him spouting, “don’t do this and don’t do that,’’” to the back of his head. Her voice a melodic song, but an irritating song once on repeat. 
The stare match continued until Angelica gestured around them. “Will you please stop and rest. I am not questioning your strength. I wish to rest.”
Grinding his molars, Sage diminished the cold flames. “Sit,” he bit out before storming away into the forest, his cloak flowing in the wind of his wake
He walked for an hour. When he put enough distant between his little spirit, Sage threw his fist into the closet tree with enough force to titled the tree. 
“Don’t break the forest Sage,” he heard Angelica’s voice a whisper in his ear. Whether he heard it in his head or carried on the wind, Sage stepped away from the tree. Besides, that wasn’t what he wanted in his grasp, what he really wanted to break. 
So close. He was so close to getting what he desired, to achieving his goal, the finish line in view. His patience weaned the closer he became. It wasn’t the forest or even his companion that frustrated him. It was relying on someone else that really drove him insane. A solitary creature, one who learned before his fifth decade how fragile trust could be, it engaged him to sit back while someone else dirtied their hands. 
He loved his power. Has shown it off to the world on a grand stage leaving no doubt who he was and what he was capable of. Yet he couldn’t even reach his own mother without that magic, a magic he needed Angelica to reach. He snorted. If his family could see him now. 
A twig snapped. He knew she stood behind him. Felt her presence long ago.  
“Come join me. I will tell you of Wolf.” 

“He is my mother’s oldest brother,” Angelica said from her seat beside the fire she had been determined to start naturally. With two sticks. He rolled his eyes. 
He watched as she fiddled with a large leaf she hanged cupped of the flame, water from the lake inside to boil. 
“Ever the arrogant one. Strong. Fearsome. Handsome. He doesn’t like those who a better than him. He believes humans are his personal toys to play with as he wish. For that reason he disowned my mother for her relationship with my dad.”
“How old are you Angelica?” She looked no older than 20 winters. Youthful and innocent.
“Two centuries.”
“Your mother?” 
“Gone where I cannot find her.” 
There was no bitterness in her voice as she spoke of her mother. No sadness. No anger. No emotion at all. Completely different from his own feeling of his mother which was definitely beyond manic hatred. “I’ve seen your father, a man of mortal flesh, yet you are centuries. What is he?”
“The closest thing a human can get to a Spirit.” Taking a handful of the peppermint leaves from her pouch, she proceeded to tear the leaves into equal pieces, dropping them into the water above the flame. 
He watched, curious, wondering if maybe she was concocting a potion of sorts. She picked up more of the large leaves she carefully picked from a tree in the forest, pulling three together into the shape of a cup, doing the same to another. Gently, she lifted the leaf about the flame, swishing the contents before tipping it, the hot liquid following off the tip into one cup then the other. She sat the leaf with peppermint aside. She mumbled a small chant over the cups, one of health and nourishment before kneeling in front of him presenting the cup of hot liquid.
His brows raised, though she could not see them. 
“You wish to poison me?”
“I wish to give you tea. To drink. To soothe your mind as I tell you my tale.” She looked up at him. “You are such a suspicious being.”
He waited to see what she would do. If she would stay where down on her knees until he accepted her offering. When she proved patient, willing to wait all night, he took the cup. Slipping back into her spot by the flame, Angelica held up her own cup tip it to her lips. She relaxed, legs crossed, and began to hum a soft traditional melody. She reached into the pouch for a piece of fruit she plucked from a tree earlier, slipping a knife from a strap of cloth around her ankle. Slicing the fruit into pieces, she offered the pieces to him first. Completely at ease in this setting while he couldn’t have despised it more. 
Biting into the crisp apple slice first, he took a sip, finding himself surprising less tense. She said her powers were stolen, but clearly she must have weaved a spell over him. He could think of no other explanation for his sudden relaxed state, a state he hadn’t felt in weeks. 
“My father is a medicine man. A simple human who lives because of his connection to my mother. He lives because she lives.”
“And if she dies?”
“She will not for she remains in the Spirit World where she is untouchable.Wolf is strong, he could find her, could harm her, but as long as she remains in our world, he cannot kill her.”
He could figure out where the rest of this headed. “You are simply bait. A way to lore your mother out of hiding into a realm where she can die for her crime of mating with a human.”
“There’s a brain in that head of yours after all. That’s encouraging.” 
“Angelica,” his voice a warning. 
“I am second choice. He would have used his sister, my mother’s twin if she two hadn’t vanished without a trace. So yes, I have become bait. Wolf has stolen all but my lifeline magic from me, that which I was born with. It allows me to cross over from this realm to the spirit world, but without my magic, I cannot remain there. I am no more than the mortals I protect. By the way,” she thrust out her foot, kicking him shin, “That’s for my village.” 
Thunderstruck, Sage laughed. A rusty sound. The kick was so unexpected, so childish and dangerous to her health that all he could do was laugh.  
As quick as the laughter began it ended. “Once I will let slide, but not again.”
“You like to give a lot of orders, but it is not in my future to follow yours.” She drank. “Wolf is strong,” she continued, “a power you have never faced. He is tricky, manipulative, and-“
A change in the wind, a full circle you will make, face to face with the creator at the end, Son of Hecate,” an old, soulful voice spoke from beside Sage.
His hand, dripping in a black poisonous spell, closing around the neck of the old woman who mysteriously appeared beside him. 
“No!” Angelica lunged from her seat, grabbing at his arm, yanking it away from the woman before his fingers touched her. It all happened to fast. Less time than a blink. 
Successfully maneuvering herself before him and the intruder, she kept his hands behind her back. “Do not touch Fae. Mortal and Immortal are driven to insanity by her touch, a torturous faith you will never escape.”
Sage flicked the spell away before it had a chance to infect Angelica. “It is not wise to suddenly appear before me. I do not like surprises.”
“This is my land young mage,” Swirling metallic silver eyes narrowed threateningly on him, but he noticed that she led with her ear, not her eyes. Blind? “Land that you have destroyed in various ways since your arrival. Those who hurt what is mine will suffer the consequences.”
His lips curled dangerously, accepting the challenge in her tone. He’d kill this sightless fae. The prospect excited his blood. “I’ll let you smell what you love burn to the ground before I end your life.”
“I come to gather information, Fae,” Angelica cut in, “of a deflector, one that cannot be crossed, breeched, or moved, coupled by an old fae spell of destruction. It surrounds something that I seek, a way to regain what was mine. Will you pardon the mage and help me,” she called the old fae a word that even his translation spells couldn’t decipher. But he kept his eye on the possible threat before him. 
Fae’s shifted her head from him to Angelica, though her eyes remained locked on him. “For the time in which you offered your assistance I will give you what you seek.” 
“You are forever helpful,” Angelica said in way of thanks, something she would never do. 
Fae’s eyes swarmed a majestic green. “Magic gains its strength from he who wishes to posses it. A sacrifice must be made.” 
Throwing a final threat at him, the Fae disappeared. 
Angelica remained in front of him for a few seconds before stepping to the side. “You are forever seeking death. So much death. Next time I won’t prevent yours.” 
He didn’t respond. He would not die. Not now. Not anytime soon. Not until that bitch went first.  
His brain was already ripping apart what was said, twisting the words around until he knew the truth behind them. An ability he developed during his youth while living with a woman whose words never meant the obvious. 
A sacrifice must be made in order to weaken the shield that protected the magic. Back in the labyrinth Angelica has said their was a death cruse, a curse that wasn’t there days before when he last visited. The shield gained its strength from those who wished to destroy it. The stronger the seeker the stronger the spell. It saw he and Angelica together as one. Their combined strength perceived greater than their individual selves. An easy solution. 
“We must return to the labyrinth,” he said.
She Who Dances in White, Wolf Runner, Angelica must fall. 






Monday, December 24, 2012

A Bewitching Rain 1




“P-Please. I am s-sorry. I beg of you to spare me,” he begged. “Please, spare me. I’ll do anything.”
The weak loved to beg. They always did. It never failed. Sage would be a liar if he said he hated this part. He loved the begging, could live off it. The cries of hopelessness and desperation as a person’s soul crumpled like ancient brick beneath his will gave him the ultimate high. Man. Woman. Child. High Lord or slave. Good or evil. He was no bigot. One person was no more important to him than the other. All would fall to his feet for no one would stand against the Dark Mage.
“Take m-my land. My wealth. Anything. You can have it all,” he cried. I’ve seven offspring. F-f-four are boys. They’ll serve you well.”
“Your daughters?” Sage’s deep voice rumbled beneath the hood of his cloak. He had no interest in the man’s whelp. He simply enjoyed hearing his victim’s agony as they willingly sacrificed their own blood and kin to save their pathetic excuse of a life.  
Lifting his head, St. Patrick peeked at the mage. “One is of age. You can take her. The other two have years before they are able to wed or produce, but you are free to them as well.” His eyes drifted back to the ground.
Completely pathetic. To betray your own children, serve them up on a slab to the big bad wolf in hopes to escape unharmed. Animals were better. Hell, Siti had been better than that. It didn’t matter. Mankind, both mortal and immortal, was all equally selfish. So easy to get whatever he desired from them. And Sage desired the world. It was such an easy object to grab since he possessed the power to destroy and person, army and kingdom with the blank of an eye. Only one item stood in his way. One dark magic spell. If the man suspected his weak human children could be of any gain he was sadly mistaken. 
Sage held his head high, the wind whipping at his cloak. Storm clouds rushed further with deadly winds, lightening that split the ground upon strike, and turned trees to ash. Behind him the village the cowering man was Lord of burned, fire raging, smoke rising to meet the clouds. An hour ago screams from the villagers, all the villagers, traveled far. Those screams were no longer, nor were the villagers. 
It was the fifth village Sage destroyed in three days. His desire to gain that spell boiled in his blood. He needed that spell the way that vampire sister of his needed to drank blood, the way she needed to be a constant pain in his ass. With each town he ravaged he was no closer to finding the key to reaching the spell. Why would his goddess put such a powerful spell out of his reach? She knew he needed it. He deserved it. No one worshipped her greater than he. Without him, she’d be just another weak goddess caving under the power of her king. But she wasn’t. Because he was Sage the Black Mage, and every village burned, every sacrifice, every spell casted was in her honor. Yet, it was she who prevented him from reaching the one weapon that could stop his mother, protect him and his family from all her manipulative ways. And he would stop his mother even if he had to destroy a thousand kingdoms over and over.
The problem was one of the layers guarding the spell was almost impossible to get through. How do you get around something when you don’t know what it is? It’s invisible to all sense yet tangible enough that he couldn’t even enter the room. No spell, charm, or ruin protected the area. He couldn’t open a portal on the other side, into the room. 
“How to pass what cannot be passed?” he mumbled. Ashes floated down like snowflakes landing on his beard.  “To see what cannot be seen? To gain what is protected?”
A his feet, St. Patrick stuttered, “se-seek out t-the p-pr-protector.”
Cold eyes burned into the man’s skull. “Repeat that.” 
St. Patrick stuttered his response. 
Yes. “That’s it.” Since he was unable to get to what was protected, he’d just have to get to the protector. Kill the protector. Gain the item. Simple. A raindrop smacked his cheek. Sage had enough of this game for today. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He would find the one who could help him achieve his endgame. 
Turning his back he stalked away. A wave of his hand opened a travel portal. He could just as easily whisk himself anywhere he wished, but Sage loved the convenience of a travel portal. It required no energy and hardly a speck of magic on his part. 
A sigh of relief escaped from his captive. Sage smirked wickedly beneath the hood of his cloak. He believed himself safe. His demised escaped. 
Not one for grandeur, all the time, a finger flick set Lord St. Patrick into a blaze of fire. His screams shattered that silence, but Sage heard nothing after he stepped through the portal in hopes of finding that which guards.



Sage loathed wooded areas. It didn’t matter how big or small the land. A park had too many trees. Villages hidden deep within a forest mountain was going overboard, and he burned them to the ground on general principle. Rumor had it that the tribe whom dwelled in the forest near Mt Paiute was guarded by spirits. Talk was that few tribe members were in contact with the other side. 
For all his power, his desire to win it all, there was one thing Sage did not and would not do and that was to be directly, personally involved with the other side. Spirits. Gods. Hecate was all the goddess he needed, thank you very much, and he was perfectly content with leaving their interactions down to sacrifices. 
What he wasn’t content with was the muddy snow mucking his boots, the uprooted roots tripping him, and the branches smacking him from all angels leaving scrapes and bruises, tattering his cloak, dumping piles of snow upon his head. He’d burn the entire stinking America to ground if not for the spirits that protected these lands. He knew all about vengeful spirits. His home had been protected by them as well, until his mother pissed one off and it almost costed a very young Sage his life, still immature in his power, to defeat it. He learned early that it would best to leave celestial beings in their own little world, dimension, plane. Where ever the hell they lived. While the land itself may have been spared, the creatures that crossed his path weren’t so lucky. 
The further he walked the more dense the trees became, the canopy a shield. He no longer knew whether it snowed. Through the cracks of space, he watched the setting sun turn the sky pink. Hopefully the weather would be warmer  the next day. However, Sage had to get through the night, to find a village his magic couldn’t just whisk him to. He’d never seen it before, had no knowledge of its location or people besides the rumors he’d heard during his search. He better find them by morning sun or to hell with the land and it’s guardians. America would feel the rage the kingdoms in Europe feared and the clans of Africa cursed.  
Ahead he spied a tree so large its trunk took up his entire line of sight. Ten times larger than the ones surrounding. There was a hole at its base. Shelter. He trudged the rest of the way to his temporarily relief only to find it inhibited by a black bear and three cubs. He stared at what he assumed was the mother. The cubs took one look at him, yelped, and hightailed it out of there running for their life with their mother right behind them. Good. It would have been nothing for him to get rid of them, but Sage didn’t always kill everything that stood in his way. Most stuff. 97% of all things, but that 3% counted for something. 
The inside of the tree was hallowed out. He wondered if it happened naturally or did someone gut it. He sat opposite the opening to get away from the cold and snow that drifted from the canopy. Tugging the hood of his cloak over his head, he allowed himself to relax for the first time in days. A momentary reprieve. Getting through the first five stages of protection surrounding the spell had been easy. The monsters stationed on levels two and three were as tough as domesticated cats, tamed horses. The sixth level had been more difficult. The  seventh took longer and required more magic and patiences. It’d taken him four days without a single break to get through it. It was the eighth stage that stomped him, the one in which he currently sought help, something his wasn’t used to doing. It burned inside like lava through his veins to seek help, but Sage would never let his pride stand in his own way.
The forest outside the tree darkened until there was no light. He conjured a ball of blue flame to provide light and warmth.  Silently he sat. Thinking. He sent out a feeler spell in hope of finding some sigh of the tribe. Nothing. They hid well. 
Never one to idle too long, Sage doused the ball of fire and was about to stand when he heard a twig snap in the distance. Leaves ruffled. Feet pounded the ground rapidly. The snarling was the loudest sound. Wolves. Apparently chasing someone if he judged how fast the feet hit the ground. 
Hidden in the darkness of the tree cave, he searched in the direction of the noise that grew closer and closer. The steps grew closer but they held no weight. A little boy playing where he shouldn’t most likely. He’d wait until the boy passed. 3%. 
Laughter bounced off the trees into his little alcove. Soft. Musical. Feminine. A girl. From what he’d witness with the other tribes he’d searched their female species were protected, guarded, restricted. They didn’t roam freely in the woods attracting canine attention. But the joyful sound that bounced around him couldn’t be mistaken for anything except glee. 
Small feet covered in bear fur leaped over a fallen log landing with grace a cat would envy. She turned to look over her shoulder at her pursuers. In a language he’d never heard before the fur covered girl no more than sixteen winters, judging from her size since her face was concealed by a hood, taunt the predators, three wolves who bound through the snow. She let them close in before she spin on her heels and ran off merrily. 
Sage waited until the girl with the wolves was out of sight, her foot steps and growls no more before he stepped out of the tree. 
There was one thing to gain now. A village was close by. And if he judged from the direction whence she came he was heading the correct way. He looked at the way they ran and noticed something strange. There were no foot prints. Human or Wolf. 

Many hours later after walking all night, Sage spotted the village a mile below. Smoke rose from many of the little tipi homes. The snow had stopped hours ago but what was left on the ground of the uncovered area was enough to hinder his movement. He tossed a spell surrounding his person to reflect what the wind drifted his way and to melt what lay before his feet. 
He assumed this village would belong to No-Prints. Because of the dark and snow Sage wasn’t able to make out the pattern of her clothing. He learned from other tribes that he encountered each tribe had a distinct pattern, and certain families had their own symbol added. Without that to go by Sage would have to find No-Print by physique alone. Not that it was impossible. 
He was 100 yards out when someone spotted him, the lone tall dark figure in a land of white. Quickly, they sent a scouter to meet him, to find out who the strange man was, and to kill him if he posed danger. Sage had no interest in a meet and greet, especially with this man for he was just that. A man. And Sage was searching for a girl. 
As the man grew closer he spoke in a language Sage did no know. A warning to stop maybe. There was always a warning to stop. He kept walking. The guy drew a weapon, bow and arrow, and aimed at him.
Lunpe.” 
The scouter rocket backwards, flipping through the air, landing with a loud thud some dozen feet away. Nice Sage was over. He’d spare a bear cub, but he’d never spare a man. Men who stood in his way perished. 
A collective gasp, cry, yadda yadda yadda sounded from the watching villages. Alarm cries were sounded and the vulnerable where rushed off to safety. He’d been through this so many times he could write the playbook. However, today Sage wouldn’t bask in their terror. He was so close to reaching his end game, the one who could help him within his reach, he could enjoy this later.
With a way of his hand he stopped all movement. Theirs. Not his. Eyes widened in horror. Choked out sobs and cries came from women and children. Walking the remaining distance that separated him from the tribe, Sage survey all who were within his view. One man, old, weathered, and obviously the Shaman remained seated patiently. Calm. Tobacco steadily blowing from his pipe. 
“Where is the one that runs with wolves?” Sage asked the man. 
The old man responded but whatever he said was a lost. But he didn’t look afraid. In fact, he appeared expectant, as if he was waiting to see if Sage would disappoint him or not. 
With another wave, he sent their homes flying into the distances, exposing everyone. And that’s when he saw her sitting on the ground, sheltering a child. She noticed his stare, her slanted eyes clouded in fear and trembled. He beckoned a finger and she flew to him stopping a foot away. Raking his eyes from the crown of her head to the tip of her toes, he checked to make sure she was indeed the one to get him closer to the spell. Indeed she was.
Magically, a gag tied around her mouth, ropes binding her hands and feet. She struggled but to no avail. 
Now that he had the girl, he could get back to the portal deep in the forest that would take him back to the labyrinth.  Sage released his hold over the tribesmen. He bent and tossed his captive over his shoulder and started back on the path to the forest. Out of the corner of his eye and looked at the shaman who now appeared pleased. 



A portal to the one he used to arrive in this part of the Americas would’ve made for much faster traveling. However, no matter how desperately he wanted that spell, he’d wanted the little cantankerous brat willing. As willing as one can be when forced into something. That way he’d have no worry that she’d do something stupid, like hinder his process. But first, the irritating brat had to do something other than cry, her sounds muffled behind the gag, stumble, because of loosely bound feet, and cry some more. He was a hair trigger away from strangle her. The idea had merits. He was almost certain it’d speed the process up much faster if he attempted to strangle her. 
He stopped to give the mortal a break before she broke her legs. In the snow, she sat with her clothing bunched around her, her hair a wild mess, twigs and leaves sticking out of it, whining. Begging him to release her. At least that’s what it sounded like. Beneath his breath he mutter an incantation, one that would bridge that gap of their language barrier. 
Save me. Please save me. 
Her words remained foreign, but now he knew what was spoken. On and on she went until he lost all patiences. He thrust his hand out. “Shut up,” he bit out. She flew back and smacked into the nearest tree where she collapsed over with a cry of pain and shock. 
It took a few moments for her to regain her bearings. Sage glaring at her the entire time. His captive didn’t look at him. Her eyes were straight, looking only forward. A soft voice mumbled. More cries and pleas for help. Furiously she started to fight at her binds unaware that there was no way she could break the magical bind. Still, she fought, staring into the darkness, begging for help.
Sage turned away and leaned against the tree he sat before. Closing his eyes he relaxed. She’d tire out soon and come to accept her fate. 
The wind shifted and with it the temperature felt like it dropped ten degrees. It was only ten degrees to begin with.  A chill ran down the spine of his back. Sage shivered, but kept his eyes closed. As long as she thought he wasn’t paying attention, things would go the way he planned. 
He felt her. Sitting across from him on a fallen log, her legs crossed at the knee. Patient she seemed. As if she had all day, nothing better to do. One fur clade foot swinging away. When he opened his eyes he didn’t look at her. Eyes averted, he turned to his captive. With a silent double spell, he sent the crying teenager back to her tribe at the same time he threw a shield around himself and his guest. Now he could look at her.
The hood hung so low over her face the only thing he could see was her mouth which curved at the corners in a smile. 
“Took you long enough to show up,” Sage said. He wasn’t sure if she spoke his language, but thanks to the spell her worked earlier, she’d be able to understand what he said the same way he could understand her. He was no idiot. The moment he saw that there were no foot prints left in the snow by either person or animal he knew exactly who had just ran past him. A spirit between worlds. Someone who was there but wasn’t. Could be seen, but not at the same time. His key. 
Sage was a smart worker, not a hard one. Trying to track her, he would have never found her. So, he let her find him, but  threatening the safety of the tribe she protected. And, here she was. Not the least bit alarmed at being held within a shield that even she could not get out without him. He didn’t think she’d be. 
“Life is too precious a gift to handle without care,” she said. This close, her voice was soft, but mature, with that deep effect heard when a God spoke. Or a guardian spirit. “So reckless you are.”
“Everyday life is born. Everyday life must end,” Sage replied. “I tend not to walk on eggshells over the unavoidable.”  
She laughed merrily. “You have no clue about the unavoidable, Sage.”
He didn’t show his surprise that she knew his name. His facial expression remained blanked. “Is that so?”
Leaning forward she rested her arms on her knees. “Let’s not walk in circles. You need something from me.” She tapped her head. “I had the vision. A man cloaked in darkness would travel through Paiute lands in search of he who could help him complete his quest.”
“That he will be you. In this case a she.”
“Figuratively. Your path was to cross mine. The unavoidable. My kind like to call it destiny or fate.”
“Your version means nothing to me. I choose my own destiny.” 
“I know that. Yet, you need me literally. With my help, you will reach your destiny, but you need me willingly. So, what are you willing to sacrifice or do for me to gain my cooperation, and with the right price I will cooperate to the bitter end?”
Bartering. She was bartering with him. The last time anyone bartered with him was nearly a century ago and it was his sister. Jime, who tried. And her she was, this little sprite of a spirit who he believed he was luring into a trap had in fact been waiting for him because she had a vision. Because she wanted something from him. This could turn out to be far more interesting than Sage ever imagined. 
“What is it that you want of me?” he asked. 
“I’ll help you, and once your goal is complete you shall do something for me.
“That would be?”
“You want magic that was never yours. Magic that will make you stronger. I want…,” she shook her head spilling long dark hair from beneath the hood, “no, I need magic that was once mine, stripped from me, locking me out of the spirit world. The magic that will make me complete once more. You will return what was once mine for me. Promise this and you have my will.” 
She spook calmly, but Sage could feel the tension rolling off her in waves. Her desperation choked the air. To promise and agree would tie him to this spirit going completely against his rule to never tie himself to the other side. Except he was so close. So close to gaining what he wanted that at the moment he would agree to almost anything. Almost.
“Exactly how did you lose what was once yours?” he asked, because no way in hell would he walk himself into some of this nature blindly. That would just be stupid. 
“That is not an important factor.”
“Who stripped your power?” He held up his hand to silence her. “And that is an important factor. I must know who it is you wish me to go against.”
She betrayed nothing she felt, the perfect guardian, still and composed when she said. “Wolf. Brother of my mother. If it soothes your nerves, I’ll tell you all you need to know about Wolf.”
“And you are who?”
“She Who Dances in White, Wolf Runner, Guardian of the tribe you so terrorized.”
“You have a better name?” he deadpanned.
“My name’s are perfectly fine…” He was sure she glared beneath that hood. “Angelica. You may call me Angelica.”
Nothing about her said “angelic”, but who was he to cast stones with one of the “others”. 
Honestly, it didn’t require much thought at all to decide what he would do, so he made his promise, because in the end, nothing stood in his path to become stronger. Not even himself or a tiny spirit seer girl.
“And you may even consult with my father about Wolf,” she said after they made their deal. “Although he is willy and old and smokes too much. Possibly insane. Should have died centuries ago, but the mortal just won’t call it quits. He’s probably sitting back at the village inside of his little tipi, pipe in mouth, chuckling it up to the sky.”
Ah! She spoke of the shaman. That would be why he appeared pleased. He must have had a vision, discussed it with the sprite, Angelica. 
Done with wasting time, Sage stood up, dispersed the spell and opened a portal that would take them to the one on the other side of the mountain. “Can you cross?” he asked before stepping in. 
Raising from the log she shrugged. “There is only one way to find out.” 
Standing, she came just at his shoulder. Sage was tall, so she was tall for a woman, not a sprite, but he felt like a giant next to her, even with the waves of power that cascaded from her. And her powers had been stripped? Very interesting indeed. 
He stepped through.