The Deathwaker, Chapter 3

The gruesome event that took place at his grandfather’s cabin in Seeker Falls, West Virginia, had been the turning point for Nick Aster. It was February of 1974, and instead of going to a Pink Floyd concert, he was tasked to watch over his ailing grandfather, a grandfather he could hardly relate to. He never understood why his grandfather had hidden himself away in the woods of Appalachia for years, isolated from the world.

Nick wasn’t aware of the secrets he had been hiding.

He had watched as his grandfather was mauled to death by beings from some other world, fended them off with what he now understood was magic, and discovered an invaluable prize: a long-lost grimoire. Within the tattered pages held secrets that, upon being unlocked, were a means of protecting this world. It shed a light on the inner workings of the universe itself, and the many layers above and below this realm.

As above, so below.

He had heard that saying so many times, yet nearly all the people quoting it didn’t truly understand the implications of that statement. It didn’t simply mean the interaction between our realm and that of some higher plane, such as a heaven, but the transference of energy between an endless multitude of realities stacked upon one other. Some above ours, some below ours. The multiverse and its interactions.

            Some pretty profound shit, man.

The Order of the Silent Dawn understood this very well. That’s why the world was on track to end at any given moment. Not much was known about the Silent Dawn, and those that learned about it ended up dead.

They had a good hold on their secrets. A damn good hold and did well in instilling fear among those who caught even the slightest whiff of their unspeakable deeds.

But who were they? That was the question on those few who were fortunate enough to know about them and still fly under the radar. Even then, just knowing about them and having nothing bad happen to you meant they were keeping you alive for something. Nick knew who they were. Knew how expansive the organization was, how it was deeply rooted in the largest media, pharmaceutical, and tech corporations. He saw how they had settled into the cracks in the foundation of Western Civilization itself. Nearly all of the United States Government had either their pockets lined by them, or they were full-on members. A secret order devoted to one thing, and one thing only: to overpopulate human lives on the planet, then cull them in the most brutal way possible, bringing about their fabled Silent Dawn.

A world of ghosts.

A sacrifice to their nameless deity, the egregore of malfeasance and death. Nick had learned of egregores in the book he rescued from his grandfather’s house all those years ago; a thought-being, cultivated by the masses. Thoughts and beliefs give it power, and power is one thing this entity has an abundance of. The egregore the Silent Dawn worshipped was created through war, plague, and widespread hatred and death, one that has remained since the inception of consciousness. It holds power over those who are weak, bending them to its dark will. The Silent Dawn and their ranks of Deathwakers are the harbingers of this catastrophic end.

An end Nick devoted himself to prevent, even if it cost him his life.

But there were others scattered about the world, others that understood the cosmic threat the Silent Dawn posed, who were either powerful enough to withstand them or were simply good at hiding. Nick was the latter but liked to think he was competent enough to hold his own.

The world was in constant flux between a myriad of outcomes. If one considered thoughts to be votes in a sort of outcome-of-the-Earth election scenario, the Silent Dawn’s egregore wasn’t exactly winning in a landslide, but it did have a notable lead.

The world had held a balance between the forces of love and hate for eons. Celestial forces outside our scope of knowing had either set it up that way, or it was just the nature of the interface. The consistent clashing of two opposing forces creating the energy to sustain life across the multiverse. Without one, the other does not exist, that was until one can overtake the other and control it. Which is what the Silent Dawn has been working to orchestrate since the late 1700’s.

Enough hate to overcome love.

Enough death to overcome life.

Nick hadn’t planned to step in front of the car Owen was driving. Sometimes things just had to happen. An unseen voice guiding him on the pathway to a better outcome. He had kept an eye on their escapades so far, watched as Owen summoned the girl back to life, a feat that could only mean one thing.

The Silent Dawn was unbelievably close to bringing about its world-of-horrors, and the forces of light were bringing out the big guns.

Shit was about to get biblical, and Nick didn’t have a damn clue how to proceed. He needed serious help, angelic help, and the good news was that he knew exactly where to get it.

The bad news is that he cut himself off from all of them years ago, unsubscribing to their monthly newsletters and everything.

The energy of love and light was a good thing, but it wasn’t the only thing. At this moment, he understood that he had no other choice. The Garden of Infinite Light would have to be involved in this. It was the only way to protect Owen and Willow.

. . .

They sat in the front seat, Willow glancing out the window and Owen, slumped to the side, wincing with each bump the car gave as they drove down the uneven driveway. [BC1] 

Julian Gray wasn’t dead. He was hardly hurt by the fire Owen summoned from the darker aspect of himself. Had Julian not been so adept in his magic, his bones would have been reduced to ashes, like one of his poor followers back there. Nick had watched that much. As he rode in the back seat, Nick could see Julian in his mind’s eye gathering his resources in order to hunt them down. Their time was running out, and next time the two of them would most likely die, horribly. He wouldn’t put it past Julian to summon a devourer, a nearly unbanishable spirit capable of eviscerating human flesh and consuming souls.

Nick glanced up at Owen in the rearview mirror. The boy looked almost exactly like his father. Owen didn’t even know who his father was, and that was a blessing. Not that Byron Gray was a bad person. He was a Deathwaker, true, but he was one of the good ones, which were about as rare as finding a playful hornet. He died horribly before Owen’s birth, trying to protect his son, a son who was now gifted with the ability to resurrect the dead, the complete antithesis the Silent Dawn was fighting for. It made the old wizard smile, realizing that one of their own brood could very well be the downfall of the whole thing. Byron had tried to defend his son from his murderous family, and now it seemed the task fell to Nick. He watched the bare trees sweeping by the window and tried his to best formulate a plan for the cosmic fight ahead.

. . .

It was possibly the strangest driveway Owen had ever seen. It wound in circles around trees that looked too big to be real, it went up and down hills that seemed to come out of nowhere, and branched off into three different paths. Soon the driveway maze ended in a clearing where a tiny log cabin sat. Odd green smoke puffed sporadically from the chimney.

Willow and Owen studied the strange little house.

“It’s a damn wizard house.” Owen muttered before getting out, wincing as he did so. Willow followed, looking around curiously at the peculiar yard. It was adorned with odd little ornaments, most of which had been made out of trash the old man must have found lying around in the woods. There was a massive bear made from random pieces of wood. In the back, Owen noticed a strange wall of patched-together plywood and parts of billboard signs making up some kind of roofless structure.

“Come on inside, you two!” The jolly wizard called out, attempting to open the front door with considerable effort given that both his arms were full of mushrooms. Owen turned to see Willow approaching, “May I?” She touched her hand to his shoulder. With a blinding burst of pain, he felt his shoulder snap back into place, stars danced in front of his eyes. Willow smiled and then rushed up to help the old man with the door, when Nick muttered under his breath and the door swung open on its own. [BC2] Owen froze, staring as the wiry old wizard, who grinned to himself as he stepped inside. Owen traded a confused glance with Willow. Who was this guy? The old man dumped the mushrooms on a leaning wooden table with several mismatched chairs pulled up to it and then snapped his fingers. In the corner a dusty old jukebox flickered to life. The old man then walked over to a kettle of boiling water and began preparing what Owen could only figure was tea.

“Is this Led Zeppelin?” Owen asked, clearly surprised by the wizard’s choice in music.

“The one and only! This happens to be one of my favorites by them.” He replied, as Misty Mountain Hop continued on.

Owen walked over to admire the jukebox and realized that it wasn’t plugged in.

“It doesn’t have any power coming to it.” He puzzled.

The old man chuckled, “We all have power, my boy.”

Willow walked over to it and saw that it was, indeed, unplugged.

 “Electricity is pure energy, something the two of you will soon understand, and that energy can take many, many forms. We still don’t know all the ways. There was once a great wizard by the name of Nikola Tesla. You may have heard of him. He found out how to transfer power without pesky things like wires and cords. The guy was really onto something, regardless on how the world treated him.” Nick said, bringing two steaming mugs of tea over to the leaning table. Before placing the mugs down, he kicked the short leg of the table, which immediately lifted up, creating a level surface. He placed the mugs down around a candle in the center of the table. [BC3] 

“Willow, I am so sorry for your loss. Your grandmother was such a wonderful person. I knew her for years. An accomplished witch in her own right. As much as she could be anyway. I found living among others to be so corrupting and confining.”

“Thank you.” Willow said, pulling the mug closer. Owen did the same. The tea, whatever it was, had a strange and pungent odor to it. He sipped it.

It tasted awful.

“Drink up.” Nick said, grinning at the sour face Owen was making.

“What the hell is this stuff?” Owen spat, putting the mug down and looking at it again, as if peering into it would explain its horrid flavor.

“This, right here, is a grade-A alignment tea. You two are going to need some help.”

“Help?” Owen asked, cautiously sipping the tea and hoping to some form of a higher power that this crazy old man wasn’t trying to poison them.

“Yes help. You two are in lack of guardian spirits at the moment and incredibly vulnerable. Willow, your prior death experience has left you without one, and Owen, well, let’s just say spirits aren’t exactly lining up to help out any Gray family members.”

Willow sipped the tea and shuddered.

“There’s yarrow in this… moonwart… mugwart, cinnamon, yew…”

“Impeccable.” Nick marveled as Willow even picked up on the hint of wild bergamot that he had to coax from the bottom of the jar to add to the tea mixture.

Owen took another sip, shuddered horribly as the bitter drink passed over his tongue. He wondered how in the hell Willow could distinguish hints of anything in that concoction. It just tasted like shit to him. A movement caught his eye above and when he glanced up, he saw a wild face with a wide, Cheshire grin peering at him from above the exposed wood beam over his head. He jumped back, nearly falling over.

“What the hell was that?”

Willow and Nick glanced up at the spot where Owen was looking but saw nothing.

“Probably your elemental beginning to manifest. The tea is supposed to align your spiritual centers to call in one. Oh, sit down, Owen.” Nick laughed. “Your dad was just as excitable.”

Nick mentioning his father caused all thoughts of elementals to completely drain from his mind.

“My dad?”

Nick motioned to the tea.

“Sip on that, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I promise, nothing in this place will harm you, only aid you in the hefty load of bullshit that is to come.”

Willow finished her tea with a grimace and shivered. She looked up at Owen and gave a small grin. She obviously wasn’t dying. Misty Mountain Hop came to an end and the jukebox promptly switched to Break on Through to the Other Side by the Doors.

Owen groaned, then drank the entire steaming cup of hot tea down in one go. The feeling of heat didn’t subside as he dropped the mug onto the table. It only took him the span of a heartbeat to realize he had fucked up.

“Sip! Not chug!” He heard Nick’s garbled voice from somewhere far away call out to him, as if coming from the end of a long, empty hallway.

The world spun for a moment then there was an explosive crack followed by impossibly loud maniacal laughter. As Owen’s vision began to tunnel, he watched as a spark began to shoot around the room, knocking over jars and piles of books. Then everything went dark.

Owen heard a voice, starting as a whisper and growing louder until he felt himself back on the old wooden floor of the cabin. He blinked hard and saw Willow’s blue eyes before him. But with the eyes came into focus a wide grin and two curved horns and he quickly realized with rising horror that this was not Willow, but a small being made entirely of fire. He leapt away from the thing and shouted. It pushed off Owen with its cloven feet and began zipping around the room, cackling madly. Owen could swear that he saw a scorpion tail trailing behind it.

He watched it for a moment, then looked back to Nick and Willow who were smiling. Owen noticed a small creature sitting on Willow’s shoulder, a creature that resembled a pale fox with tiny, branch-like antlers and delicate leaves sprouting from them. The thing, whatever it was, stared serenely at Owen, who got up gingerly. The flaming elemental ran up to him and stopped, looking straight up at him. It grinned, the mouth as wide as its head. Then it blew a raspberry and ran off again, out the door.

“Hey, now!” Nick called after it.

Owen could hear the cackling laughter get farther and farther away. Nick grumbled and shut the door, walking back to his seat. “Well, he can’t go too far. He’s bound to you.”

“Maybe it’s best to let him run off that energy.” Owen suggested, seeing the blazing creature run by the window at an impossible speed.

“Not likely. Fire elementals don’t really tucker out. That’s kind of their thing.”

Owen stared out the window, watching the creature zip by three more times.

“Scorgi.” He said quietly.

“Pardon?” asked Nick

“That’s his name.” Owen replied. “I heard the name when I was waking up… he’s supposed to help me.”

He looked over at the calm, antlered cat-thing Willow had and became a little jealous. It was adorable, like a damn Pokémon. It was even purring.

“Yes.” Nick smiled. “They are powerful elementals, though still quite young. Only a couple centuries old.”

 Owen blinked.

“Elementals take a long time to come into being, and when they eventually do form, they usually copy aspects of their environment. Take Willow’s for instance…”

“Appa” Willow interjected matter-of-factly.

“Appa is a mixture of an apple tree, a fox, and a deer.” He said, nodding to the elemental in Willow’s lap, which had fallen asleep.

“What the hell is… he?” Asked Owen, glancing out the window.

“Scorgi, as you call him, came from the desert. He looks to be a manifestation of a campfire, obviously, a goat, and a scorpion. Which gives him the look of a demon.”

“Is he not a demon?”

“A daemon, yes. Demon in the sense you’re thinking, absolutely not. Though it seems he can be quite devilish.”

“This is too weird.” Owen said, sitting back down.

“Seems that way, but things are just going to get weirder from here on out. But you now have an elemental protector. That’s the good news. Without it, you’d certainly be killed during your next run in with Julian. He’s coming, by the way.”

Owen stood back up, nearly knocking the chair over. Scorgi gave a loud whoop as he ran by the window for the twelfth time.

“Calm down. He’s coming, but we’re going to be long gone by the time he gets here.”

“Gone?” Willow asked. At her inquiry, her elemental raised her head and blinked at Nick.

“Yes. We’re going to be using my labyrinth in the back yard to get somewhere safe.”

Owen cocked an eyebrow and Nick sighed.

“I guess I should have expected you to not to understand any of this.”

“Dude, just the other day I was a server. Now I can raise the dead and have a demon… thing following me around. I don’t know what the fuck is what anymore. Cut me some slack.”

“Noted.” Nick said, taking a swig from a bottle of brown ale he obviously didn’t have a second ago. “So, we will use the laby—”

“When did you get the beer?”

“Just now.”

“You didn’t get up to get it. You didn’t have it a second ago.”

“Your point?” Nick asked as he took another swig, as if beers manifesting in thin air was a normal thing. “Anyway… We will be using the labyrinth in the back yard to get to a sister coven. They’re a little too love and light for my taste, but they are supreme protection spellcasters. They can keep us safe while we decide what our next move is.” Willow pet Appa who stretched and wrapped herself back into her fluffy red tail, that was almost as large as she was, and yawned.

Fucking adorable.

Scorgi ran by the window for the twenty-ninth time.

“So, uh, when are we leaving?” Owen asked, and he noticed that there were now bottles in front of Willow and himself.

“What kind of beer is this?”

“It’s not beer.”

“Ok? What is it then?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be. It’s called mirrordraft. It could be ketchup flavored chocolate milk if you wanted it enough.”

Owen glanced at the bottle and took a swig. It tasted like a milkshake. Oddly enough, there was a milkshake he had when he was a little kid, one he would always get from the local ice cream parlor that went out of business several years ago. He had missed their milkshakes ever since. He looked at the bottle with astonishment and Nick smiled.

“That’s the best stuff out there. Nobody can argue with that.” Nick polished off the rest of his mirrordraft and stood up. He glanced out the window toward the labyrinth. The entrance didn’t look like an entrance at all but just a plain old pile of junk. A folded metal highway sign leaned up against the body of an old Ford pickup tipped onto its side lined one edge and a massive, some sort of dented metal storage container lined the other. Everything was covered in rust. Just looking at it made Owen feel uneasy.

“As far as your earlier question, I’m just waiting to get the go-ahead. Once they get back with me, we’ll get out of here.”

“You’re coming too?” Willow asked. Nick smiled, still studying the labyrinth.

“Yes. By you coming here, the Order of the Silent Dawn now know where I’ve been hiding for three decades. The cat’s out of the bag and I gotta scram before they unleash holy hell. Though I am certain I am capable of handling it, it is something I’d much rather not deal with.”

“Order of the Silent Dawn?” Owen inquired.

“They’re the largest, evil secret society in existence.” Willow answered, her face growing tense.

“Oh, that’s all.” Owen grumbled.

“What do you know about them?” Nick asked, turning from the window. The look on his face told Owen that he wasn’t surprised.

“Not much. My grandmother, she…” Willow tried, but had to stop. She covered her face. Appa stirred and looked up at her. Willow sighed and dropped her hands. Her eyes were stabbed with tears, but her face was hard. Determined.

“She found out where Julian had come from. How he was able to infiltrate our coven and do the kind of magic he was able to do. It wasn’t long after that when I was killed by Julian.

That’s when Owen…” she trailed off.

Nick nodded and his eyes clouded over momentarily. The song on the jukebox changed again, and the flute intro to Goin’ Up the Country by Canned Heat banished the silence.

Owen noticed the candle sitting in the center of the table spark to life.

“Ah ha! We’ve been so graciously  given the go ahead. Rather reluctantly, but the Garden of Infinite Light has stopped staring at the fucking sun long enough to realize there is, in fact, a functioning world around them.” Nick said with a touch of distain. He walked over to a closet where he pulled out a worn, flannel suitcase that looked like it belonged in the seventies. He then pulled out a wand and waved it once. As he did so, everything in the room, from the bookcases, to the half-filled bottles of mirrordraft and the still-playing jukebox began to levitate and squeeze themselves into the suitcase. The scene reminded Owen of the old Disney movie, The Sword in the Stone, in which Merlin did the exact same thing. He looked to Nick.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. You know where I got this one from. Big deal. Took me nearly two decades to get it right.”

Willow stood up, and Appa gracefully lept onto her shoulder, as the chair beneath her took off through the air and slipped into the suitcase.

“You have to show me that one.” Owen said, smiling.

“Oh, I’ll show you all the things, kid. Just not now because we gotta get the fuck out of here. They’re coming up the driveway as we speak.”

Willow and Owen traded glances, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, they snuck right up on us, the sons of bitches, and they brought some friends.” Nick said as the last two remaining things, a massive leather-bound book and a glow-in-the-dark poster of a tiger taking a bong rip disappeared into the suitcase. It slammed shut and Nick picked it up and darted for the door. Willow and Owen followed him outside just as shouts came up from the driveway. Owen watched the form of Julian emerge from the darkness of the tree line followed by six others. Owen recognized the corpse of the old man from the previous night. It had been badly burned, several flaps of dead skin hung off the arms and chest.

“There’s no escaping.” Julian called out to the three of them. Appa jumped down and stood in front of the three of them.

Where the hell is my spazoid creature? Owen wondered, looking around, not seeing the screaming little devil anywhere. It was when he was looking around for Scorgi that he noticed three more dark clad people emerging from the wood line behind them.

“We’re flanked.” Owen breathed.

“I’m well aware.” Nick responded, his eyes darting between the newcomers. “Just follow my lead.” He added, stepping forward. “Julian Gray, we finally meet. I knew your father, Donovan. Tried to kill me about six times, if I remember correctly. What a fucking prick. It was a relief when I had learned he finally died.”

Julian laughed. “You of all people should know that death isn’t merely the end. You won’t slip out of this one. I’ll finish my job and finally check off that outstanding task my father left behind: bringing the Order your head on a silver plate.”

At this he withdrew a sword from nowhere. The sight of it and the ease with which Julian wielded it sent a shiver down Owen’s spine. With the quickest of movements, Nick swept the wand through the air and a yellowish cloud of dust emerged, descending upon the Julian and his group. Julian managed to leap out of the way as the cloud fell upon two of his followers. Owen watched in horror as their necks and faces swelled and they fell to the ground, twitching.

“Holy shit!” Owen yelled at the horrible sight. Nick turned to the two of them.

“Get to the labyrinth! I’ll hold them off!” He waved his wand again, sending another cloud of toxic dust at Julian. Owen, Willow, and Appa broke off into a run, heading towards the junk pile. As they did so, a massive looming figure leapt into their path, causing them to stop. It was a corpse, though it had once been a person, or perhaps a giant. The man stood well over seven feet tall, and though the face hung lank, the jaw wide open, and the eyes were clouded over, it moved with deliberate force, grabbing Owen by the neck before he had the time to react, and lifting him into the air. Owen tried to scream but felt cracking and popping in his neck as the monstrous hand clamped down harder. Lights flashed in his eyes and he wasn’t aware of Willow leaping at the giant. She grabbed hold of the monster’s arm and set it ablaze with green flames. The other arm of the beast flung out and would have caught Willow across the side of the head, that was, had Appa not been there. The tiny creature stood before the monster and emitted a sharp cry causing the corpse to stumble. It groaned a sickening death rattle and tried to regain its balance and with a swiftness which none of them were prepared for, the corpse struck out at Willow again.

The wild, high-pitched screams were heard a mere millisecond before Scorgi leapt off of the nearby truck and landed upon the undead giant’s face. The massive hand let go of Owen and he fell to the ground in a heap. Willow ran over and tried to get him up. His neck was badly injured, and his breathing was coming in shallow, painful gasps. Through his tunneled vision, Owen saw the sheer power of the little elemental at work and was glad, one, that the thing had saved him, and two, to be on its good side.

He watched as Scorgi’s pincer-like claws dug into the corpse’s face, burrowing in through the eye-sockets. It squealed with unnatural delight as pieces of rotting flesh and skull fragments flew through the air like macabre confetti.

“Wow…” Owen wheezed as he was pulled backward by Willow who was understandably adverting her eyes. Two other Silent Dawn members ran up, but halted, transfixed at the scene. A moment later the giant fell to the ground with an earth-shattering thud. Covered in blackened, coagulated blood and bits of what Owen could only think were brains, Scorgi looked up at Owen and smiled the biggest toothiest smile the creature had to offer. It then reared its head back and began to howl with mad laughter.

Owen’s elemental scared the living hell out of him. The creature’s laughter stopped suddenly and its head cocked with insectile exactness towards the two remaining Silent Dawn members who immediately turned to run. Scorgi squealed and clattered off after them.

“Owen, can you stand?” Willow asked. He nodded and she helped him up. There was a blast of intense fire over in the direction of Nick, but Owen didn’t chance a look, using the last bit of his resilience to run towards the junk pile.

Willow, Owen, and her tiny elemental skidded past the truck and ran into the entrance. They ran down a straightaway and came to a three-way intersection.

“Which way?” Willow asked. Appa sniffed and took the trail to the left. Owen caught Willow’s blue eyes, which glowed with unusual fierceness. She was pale, but exuded a warmth that was almost beyond that of a living being.

Celestial.

Angelic.

She urged Owen onward and he moved as best he could, wheezing and trying to keep the breath moving. They followed the little elemental as it trounced along the meandering grassy path through the walls of junk, turning left, then right, then three more lefts, and finally a stretch toward a massive golden gate which seemed out of place amongst the junk. They passed into a circular atrium full of broken glass with strange songbirds flitting about. Appa ran up to the gate entrance and stopped. A blazing white light shone through the bars.

“In here. Quickly.” Appa said, though her mouth didn’t move.

“You can talk?” Willow asked, flabbergasted.

Appa didn’t say anything else, just looked at the gate. A scream exploded from behind and Owen turned.

Scorgi stood several feet away, his little, blood-stained pincers going a mile a minute. It eyed Owen and smiled.

“Did good!” It grunted and leapt at Owen. Owen tried to dodge the crazy fire creature, but Scorgi caught him in a tight embrace around the middle. Confused and thankful that the creature had not tried to burrow into him, he gave the creature a little pat on the head.

“Yes, did good.” Owen affirmed, swallowing nervously.

There was a loud bang from somewhere outside the labyrinth and the walls of junk began to shift and move dangerously. Owen wondered if the thing was about to come down.

“Excuse me! We have a portal to catch!” Appa’s voice rang over the din.

Man, she is pushy. Owen thought, trading similar glances at Willow. Footsteps thundered from the corridor behind them and Owen braced himself for another fight, but a smoldering and tattered Nick emerged.

“GO!” He screamed, patting off his charred robe. Owen and Willow followed Appa through the gateway and into the searing light. Before he fell through, Owen turned and caught a glimpse of Julian. Though his face was twisted in rage, his screams never caught Owen’s ears.

A moment later he landed hard on his back against a smooth, cool surface. He blinked, staring at the pearly marble ceiling now above him. He took a breath and smelled the pleasant scent of lavender and patchouli. He sat up to see Willow beside him, and Nick standing before a golden doorway in the middle of a massive circular room. The blazing light from which they had just come from retracted and vanished with a loud pop. Owen fell back to the ground, feeling the coolness of the marble below him. It had only been twelve hours since he was standing over Willow’s decomposing corpse. He had brought her back to life, fought a powerful necromancer three times, was recruited by a wizard, and gifted a murderous Pokémon from hell. And now it appeared that he had fallen into fucking Rivendale.

Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol? Owen thought, thinking randomly of Clark Griswald from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

Why?

Why not? Thing’s couldn’t get any fucking weirder.

Owen turned his attention to the sound of footsteps approaching from a nearby archway, the only exit from the strange, round room. Three blonde girls dressed in white robes walked in, followed by a massive tree that had to duck to get into the chamber. The tree straightened up, glanced at Owen, and smiled.

Nevermind.

“Welcome to the Garden of Infinite Light.” The girl at the head of the group said. “If you would be so kind as to follow us. We will take you to Headmistress Yarrow.”

Nick dusted himself off, grumbled something of thanks and turned to Willow and Owen. Appa swished her tail and began preening herself under one of her wings.

“Come on.” Nick said and started after the group. The tree eyed Owen one last time and gave him a wink before leading the way down the hallway. Owen looked to Willow who seemed not to be bothered with the weirdness of a tree walking and winking. Scorgi followed behind them, his small cackle echoing off the walls.

. . .

Julian’s howls of rage echoed through the forest. Four of his group were now dead. His giant was damaged beyond repair. It lay nearby, the head wrenched off and scattered about in bony, bloody fragments. Two killed by the wizard and his toxic dust cloud. Two more eviscerated by that scorpion thing.

This definitely wasn’t a win.

He wrenched one of the dead over towards a small clearing and grabbed a stick, making a circle around them both. He then pulled out a knife and began gutting the corpse. The remaining four followers stood by their heads lowered, faces still caked with soot and ash.

Julian dug a small series of holes in the ground with the knife and bled the corpse into them, creating a sigil. A puff of black smoke issued from the ground and Julian stepped back, his face expectant, but still livid. The smoke began to hover in a cloud at head-height. A face formed out of the roiling surface.

“What is it?” A bearded man grunted from the smoky face.

“Owen escaped.” Julian snapped, as if daring the face to retort in anger.

“And?” The face said, straightening his glasses.

“I’m just reporting what happened. Tell whoever you need to tell. Oh, and four of my fledges died. I’m going to need four more.”

“Four more?”

“That’s what I said.” Julian rubbed his forehead.

The face looked down, “I’ll get them to you as soon as possible. And…”

Julian crossed his arms.

“I was told to tell you not to pursue.”

Julian tilted his head. “Not to pursue?”

“Not to pursue.” The face repeated. “It seems the higher ups are planning something special for Owen. They want you to head towards Salem.”

Julian snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me. They’re going to Salem? Those pathetic pacifists at the Garden of Infinite Light? Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire. They can’t do shit for them.”

“Not kidding, Jules.”

“Don’t fucking call me Jules, Frank.”

“Is that all?” The face in the smoke asked.

“That’s all.” And Julian swiped away the smoke and the face vanished.

“Looks like we’re heading to the lodge.” He said, a hint of a smile on his face. He began to walk out of the woods and the others followed him, leaving the still smoldering embers and corpses behind.