He Who Would be Master: 11

Story by Kaard on SoFurry

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#12 of Spirit Lord Chronicles...

Great! So your Magic now! Get ready for Hell, Spirit Lord.


He Who Would be Master: 11

"You've Awakened..." It wasn't a question. Jay simply stated a fact.

Kaard looked over his uniform with a rapidly increasing amusement. "I never figured you were a cop."

Jay chuckled, folding thick, hairy arms over his chest. "You didn't think that bouncing was all I did?"

Kaard grinned, in what he hoped was a good-natured way. "I kinda thought you were some mountain man... Frankly, I look at you and see flannel."

"You kind of like your stereotypes, huh?" When Jay's arms folded, and the bulk of his chest and shoulders squeezed against each other in tasty-looking ways, Kaard only barely caught the disapproval in his voice.

"Meh," Kaard rubbed his nose to hide the flaring nostrils, "keeps things simple, I guess."

"Sir...?" A voice from behind Jay piped.

"Angel-Mine?!" Kaard sat up. "Here, baby!"

Angel, in a goofy-looking hospital gown, crashed down next to him and wrapped himself around his Man. The two were home again. Angel felt strong again. Kaard felt alive again. All was as it should be.

Jay stood and walked over to the door. "I'll give you guys a few minutes..." He closed the door behind him, and Kaard glimpsed two other shadows speaking to Jay just outside the door.

"Sir! Sir! You remember anything?" Angel asked loving the feel of Othello's coarse hair on his face.

"I fought a fire-demon-thing... And I lost..." Othello responded.

"And then a wind-thingy got you," Angel muttered softly.

"Ah, yes," Kaard smiled, "I was spinning, and flying, and cold... but then someone came and helped me..." He nuzzled Angel back, savoring his boy's soft whiskers against his ears and neck. "Thank you, Angel-Mine."

"Anything for you, Sir." Angel began kissing Kaard's ears, reminding the two that they were back physically, as much as emotionally. "My Man... Oh, I've missed you... your smirk... your voice... what it was like, giving up to you.... what it's like under you... And how much better I just am afterword..."

"So Jean was wrong?" Kaard's voice came out in harsh whisper.

"Bitch-Puddin'?" Angel scoffed, "What's she have to do with us?"

"You really call her that?"

"N-Not just me!" Angel said defensively. "Um... We all do. Not to her face."

"Of course!" Kaard chuckled, "A shame. She might like it." He could just see her with the name tattooed somewhere suggestive.

"You're not mad...?" Angel ventured playing his tongue over Kaard's ear, which made the smaller man shudder softly.

"No, sweetness..." Kaard hoped he'd do it again, but wasn't about to ask. "... They're my friends. But to you, they're... what, smug, stuck-up, phonies?"

Angel's only response was to nibble Kaard's ear.

"Whatever," Kaard shrugged, "So long as you don't actually hurt each other anymore, I'm cool with watching you guys have it out."

"Really?" Angel smirked, "I could be a bully, again?"

"No," Kaard said firmly, "but picking on friends is fair game."

Angel had to think about that. "Yes, Sir..." He'd stopped nibbling. "What about Jean, though?"

Some sort of warning bell went off for Kaard, so he decided to indirectly answer the question. "Baby, do you still want to fight?"

Angel went back to ear-nibbling. "No... I love you. I'm okay just loving you." His lips moved to Kaard's neck and brought out a soft moan.

"You've gotten good at this, sweetness..." Kaard purred.

"I've always wanted to try this stuff..." Angel, emboldened, slid hands up over Kaard's body. Large hands over a lean frame. "I've imagined it, and I've fantasized... It's cool to do it with a genuine hottie like you..."

"Cliches, Angel?" Kaard seemed to need as much of his skin touching Angel as he could get, but that didn't stop Othello's long-standing disdain for trope responses.

"I mean it, though!" Angel's fingers found Kaard's nipples and rubbed them gently. "You're hot... like... literally! It burns to touch you..." After a moment, he giggled, "Hehe, I heard what you said, in the house."

It was Othello, not Kaard, who tensed. Embarrassment?What a very, very human reaction... It's weird that I'm feeling it now...

"And what was it that you heard...?" Kaard growled softly.

"That you are the hottest thing around. Nothing burns you..." Angel giggled. "You'll make ME burn... You will burn me up, won't you, Sir?"

"Yeah... I'll burn you to your core, if you stoke me a little more..." Othello relaxed and Kaard growled again. Angel started rolling the nipples between his fingers. "Like.... That....."

"You're tender here, Sir?" Angel muttered. "Will you burn me now? I want you to... Burn, Sir... Burn me. Burn me down... Burn me up-!!!!" Angel was suddenly pulled off of his Man and was being forced prone against the bed. "What the fuck!?" Angel could see what was binding him were the gauze that had been protecting his man. They smelled like him. They were still warm. And they were moving by themselves to restrain him. Angel knew he could tear through them, but the thought of doing so was banished by the look Kaard was giving him.

"I'm giving you what you just asked me for," As Kaard spoke, he nestled down in between Angel's legs. "I'm going to burn you alive... Like honey."

"Oh, yes, Sir!" Angel wiggled under him, excitedly, "Like... um, oh, like gasoline!"

Kaard grinned and kissed him. "Like bourbon...."

Angel strained to kiss him back. "Like.... Paper..."

"Like wildfire."

"Like hate!"

"Like a fever."

"Like... L-like a s--!" Angel clammed up and went red. Kaard was almost willing to pry it out of him, but he missed the look that Angel was giving him too much. All shy and somehow trying to retain his manliness, but failing miserably... No need to ruin it.

With angel bound, Kaard was free to admire this man, this honeyed bear-cub. He lowered his head and began returning a few of Angel's earlier kisses. Nipping his earlobes and nibbling down his neck and stopping when his lips find Angel's pulse.

"Angel pulled hard at the gauze, whining, desperate to reach his Man. "Bite me, Man!" He pleaded. "Like last time... Please!" Kaard gave a snarl before obliging, clamping down hard around the pulse, making Angel tense and cry out. "Fuck, yes!!!"

"Alright, that's enough, boys..." Neither had heard Jay come back, and Angel gave the appropriate, humiliated yelp. Kaard, on the other hand, snorted, annoyed, and chomped down on the other side of Angel's neck. Angel gave an embarrassingly high squeal.

"N-No, Man!" Angel started to kick, "N-Not in front o-of-- ohhh-- I-I mean, DUDE! Cut it out! Cut it out...."

Kaard looked up and saw with his eyes what he was already tasting on his tongue; shame was winning out over arousal. With a groan, he sat up and let Angel do the same.

He realized that, since he woke up, he hadn't even glanced at Angel's bogeys; he'd seen only his Angel. A sort of deep anxiety filled him, and he found it bizarre. Shouldn't he be... Happy? They aren't ruling his life anymore...

No... They don't go away just because I ignore them... You KNOW better! He scolded himself. He sat Angel up and looked him over. The blue one, in his shoulder was growing rapidly before his eyes, feeding from the embarrassment in Angel, and amplifying it to the point of Angel curling up away from him. "Oh, baby..."

When touched, Angel whimpered, and the shard grew more. "I-I can't, Sir...." Angel simpered. "I'm sorry! I'm... So, so sorry..."

"Goddammit!" Kaard snarled at Jay. "Look what you did, douche-bag!"

Jay, at the end of his patience, hauled Kaard to his feet by his beard. "What I did!? Take a good look, you selfish, little, fuck-head!! LOOK AT HIM!!"

Angel hadn't uncurled. As bad as he wanted to get up and defend his Man, he couldn't bring himself to look at either of them. The shame tightened his muscles, and he wished he could shrink until he disappeared entirely. "I'm s-sorry... I'm sorry...."

He was pathetic! It made Kaard queasy looking at this. "What the fuck is wrong with him?" He demanded. "Who cut off his balls?"

"You did," Jay growled. "Angel, I need you to sit up. Let us look at you, son..."

"I-I can't...." Angel whimpered.

"What the hell... Where's my brute!?" Kaard demanded. "Where's the fucker who challenged me!? Boy, SIT UP."

Angel gave a whimper. He'd walk barefoot over glass for Othello. Doing this was almost that bad. Hugging himself, Angel sat up. His eyes were screwed shut to try to dam back tears. He felt Othello's hands on his cheeks, gently turning his face up.

"Angel-baby..." Othello, the real Othello, purred. "Let me see you, man..."

Angel opened his eyes, letting the tears flow. "I don't... um, I don't get what;s wrong with me... I'm so sorry... I don't know what's wrong."'

Othello took hold of Angel's hands and took a good look at Angel. With everything that happened, in the excitement of seeing his boy again, he didn't notice that the black shard was missing, and in its place was a gouge, billowing a thick vapor. A gushing wound that wouldn't be seen by the normal eye.

"What... Is that...?" Kaard squinted. "Another spirit...?"

"No. That is an exorcism gone wrong," Jay pulled Kaard away. "Come with me..."

Kaard glanced around and the room, and grabbed a robe hanging near the bed and donned it so the two could step into the hall. He glanced around and met each spirits' glances. Spirits of life, and death, of hope, and of mourning, of blood and healing and illness, all glanced at him, before carefully glancing away. They feared him. He wasn't sure why that was, but he liked it.

"I suggest you wipe off that smug look, Kaard," Jay said.

Kaard purposely smirked as he met Jay's glare. "This is a real 180 from how you treated me before..."

"That was before you broke a human soul." Jay said softly.

Kaard felt himself frown. "That hole?"

"Yes. The hole," Jay snorted. "Instead of curing a diseased limb, you hacked it off. His bite is gone. The simple HUMAN compulsion to be angry is gone, boy."

"You think I did that?" Kaard's eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't know where to begin with something like that."

"Tell me exactly what happened when you got back..." Jay said.

Kaard told him everything; meeting Angel, finding out about the fire, the bird thing, and ending with the run-in with kamaitachi. "It was a rush," he finished, "like unleashing everything I had built up all at once. Like cumming, real hard... I watched that demon eat it like a mouthful of dynamite. I beat it!"

Jay thought for a moment, regret filling his eyes. "Dynamite... Yeah, that's apropos... You overloaded the spell in the charm. It ripped through any spirit nearby. Pour Angel must have been caught in it..."

"Now hold on! I did that too SAVE him!" He shouted, but then quieted when he started drawing human looks. "What's gonna happen to him...?"

"For now, the only thing lost is his ability to be angry," Jay said.

"You know, a lot of folks would see that as an improvement..." Othello said, but he new better; wrath was just a part of who Angel was. He needed it, to turn it outward, because otherwise, as shown quite plainly, the discontent turned inwards and consumed him.

"But the wound is still bleeding," Jay went on.

"What?" Othello tried to wrap his mind around that... But couldn't make it sound intelligible.

"Kaard, I'm going to spell this out for you very plainly. This is the truth, and how serious Angel's condition is..." He took a deep breath, like a doctor about to serve an "it's fatal" speech. "An important section soul and psyche has been 'blasted' off, and it's still bleeding, and will continue to bleed until other emotions start to fade. Then, his memories will go. He'll just be empty and mindless, like a zombie. Then he'll fall asleep, and not wake up. He'll slip into a coma, and then, he'll die."

Angel gave a gasp, startling the other two. Neither had heard him approach, or open the door. He tried reaching down for the rage that just had to be there... but the deeper he reached, all he found was cold, and sadness, and hopelessness. He looked to the Othello. "Master..."

"Angel-Mine...!" The horror in Kaard's face was enough to trigger Angel's own panic. When he took a frightened step back, something in Angel broke and the blonde shook violently, and reached out beseechingly.

"Master... I don't wanna die!" Angel ran hands through his hair. He should hate Othello, for what has happened to him. He knows that the old him would be kicking the shit out of Othello for this. But it just wasn't there, and in its place was a frigid hollow feeling "Help me, Master! HELP MEEE!" Angel collapsed into ragged sobs. "You take pieces of me every time we hang out! FIX me, dammit!!"

Kaard stood there, paralyzed, afraid to even touch his Angel.

Two nurses rushed in followed closely by security. The nurses went to the sobbing, cringing Angel, and each of the guards grabbed one of Kaard's arms. Their touch was like an electric charge that ignited the volatile panic in Kaard's chest.

"Let go! Get your goddamn hands OFF me!!" He pulled and thrashed against them, but they only held tighter. "Let GO!!"

"Othello Montague," one of them grunted as the two subdued him. "You are under arrest. We are to hold you here until the police have arrived."

"Wha--Why!?" Kaard focused on calming himself, for Angel. "What's the charge?"

Angel watched as the nurses stuck him with needles and worked with them to ease his panic. He was amazed that he could hate a man without the ability to feel rage. The ability to love and hate the same person at once was extraordinarily cathartic. This man was his god and his devil. A scourge and a baptism. He wanted to protect this person. He wanted to destroy this person... The answer came to him suddenly: While he makes up his mind, his Man cannot be harmed. He stood up and made as if to go back to the bed. At the last moment, he tore away from the two nurses and drove his shoulder into Othello's chest, forcing Othello from the guards' grip like cork from a bottle.

Kaard slammed into the ground, and slid into the wall with a crash. He looked up as his Angel devoted his bulk to waylaying the men. "Angel-Mine...?"

The look that met him was a cold one. One he'd never seen in Angel before, one that raised Kaard's hackles. When Angel spoke, it was as much a threat as it was a plea: "Run."

Kaard ran. His bare feet slapped the linoleum floors as he passed shocked patients and frightened staff, and curious spirits of illness and healing stopped their eternal struggles to watch. He could hear the heavy footfalls of security, and probably police behind him, and knew that he was going to be caught, charged, and at best, shipped off to prison. Worse would be another asylum with the mad, hungry spirits that used such places as a playground.

He turned the corner and saw a man in a black suit, calmly beckoning to him. Kaard, desperate for any way out, ran towards the man who simply turned on his heel and stepped casually through the wall. Kaard tried to stop, but because of his momentum, stumbled into the wall. Instead of crashing, though, he fell through it, feeling the grains of the brick, the lash of wires, and the cool of piping sliding over and around him, before falling flat on his face.

He had to take a moment to reorient himself before the wonder of what had just transpired fully sunk in. He looked up at the man, who was not much older than himself. Maybe a year or two. He wore an eye patch over his left eye, the other one was a stunning gray/violet. His hair was platinum blonde and cropped short, revealing under it a lattice work of strange, archaic-looking tattoos. The stranger looked wholly underwhelmed by the bewildered Othello.

"Kaard Tierp Sotae Suthroee, the White," the stranger said, breath billowing in the evening air, "You are to be my competition?"

"Who are you?" the mere utterance of his full name stirred something in Kaard into wakefulness.

"I am simply Oumitsu, the Black, you are one of my rivals."

Kaard got to his feet, tightening his hospital gown in the chill. "Oumitsu," he said, "Okay. Rivals for what?"

"To be the True King," Oumitsu said, "but not yet. We are not in our full powers yet. We don't get to duke it out until we subdue this city."

"So what are you doing here?" Kaard was starting to shiver.

"I'm here heading off a cheater."

"Who?"

The purple eye darted before Oumitsu tackled Kaard to the ground, just as the wall behind him began crumble under dozens of simultaneous impacts. A dented silver dollar coin landed in front of Kaard's nose before dozens of them showered the two harmlessly.

Oumitsu helped Kaard to his feet, and pointed a few buildings away, to a figure in gold who flipped a coin. "That's who..." The figure stopped flipping to wave teasingly at them. "You know any tricks?"

Kaard shivered, as much in a thrill as in his chill. He knew this man was referring to some kind of Magic. "A few... But I need my--"

"Here,"Oumitsu tossed at his rolled up talismans to him. "They looked important."

The figure had started rifling through a wallet and took out a bill. Tossing it into the air, it popped like a firework into dozens of coins.

Kaard, knowing what comes next, reached for his power, and the whole world began to fuzz and sparkle before his eyes, as the presences that infuse the world bloomed back into being. Kaard saw the Power bloom in his rival and in his enemy. Oumitsu's made every shadow a window into an infinite abyss.

He saw it, but there was no time to appreciate it as exactly one hundred potential-consciousnesses sliced through the air at him. Kaard and Oumitsu dove in opposite directions to avoid the volley. One of the coins nearly brained him, mid-dive, only to be stopped by a talisman. It had reshaped itself to resemble his kin from Pangaea; like an origami dragonfly, but with a peacock-like eye spot on its tail. The coin was suspended a moment, an inch from the talisman, before falling to gravel at his feet. The talisman began to slowly burn up, its potential-being exhausted, and smoldering away the gauze. That attack was powerful to burn away the talisman so quickly.

"Options," Kaard growled.

"One: hit back," Oumitsu saidd softly, drawing a sword from a sheathe hidden under his suit jacket, apparently running down his back. He took off, running over the roof, down on to a lower section of the hospital. The figure dashed back into the garage, disappearing from view. Despite this, Kaard could see it moving about within the garage. He watched it flare, then spread out a bit, expanding.

"Oumitsu! Wait..." Kaard ground to a halt, and squinted hard at the building.

"Need glasses...?"

"Maybe. It's never come up..." Kaard had never thought about it before, but if he wanted to start focusing more on the physical world, maybe he should get glasses. The thought was an amusing one. "Here he comes..." He saw the shift in direction before he say the headlight. A motorcycle sprung from the garage, and dove straight at them.

It was so cool, so intensely bad ass, Kaard had to relish the sight, "HOLY FUCK, DUDE!!"

"MOVE IT, STUPID!!" Oumitsu roughly threw Kaard out of the way, and the two tumbled as the bike slammed down. "Kaard! Move!"

"Shut up already!" Kaard shouted, annoyed at the constant yelling. The two were off and running before the bike and rider had righted themselves. The roar of the engine was like an enraged beast howling after them.

They ran almost fifty yards before coming to the ledge and met a fifty foot drop. They looked back at the Gold Rider who revved. Kaard couldn't see the man's face, since he wore a helmet. He reached into a pocket and produced five hundred-dollar bills. He revved once more, then cast them into the air. As they broke up into a volley of gattling-coins, he pitched forward, charging them ahead of the assault.

Oumitsu grabbed Kaard around the neck in a reverse arm-lock, and dragged him over the edge. Kaard howled in terror and watched the ledge fly up and away from him, and the Gold Rider skid to a stop and stare down at them, also diminishing rapidly.

There was no pain. There was no jarring stop. Just suddenly blackness, the sound of his heart pounding, and his last breaths echoing in his ears... Cold.... Cold....

Then... Just... Not.

Kaard moved as if swimming, but making no progress. "O-Oumitsu...?"

"Yeah?" Oumitsu's voice echoed. He was still holding Kaard tightly.

"We're not dead," Kaard sighed, sure of it now, and so not making it a question.

"No. We're in our shadows," he chuckled.

"Neat, more magic," Kaard said, relief growing, "No need to explain more than that..."

"Word of advice," Oumitsu said, "When you figure out how magic works, it'll kill you to not share it with your friends."

"I was going to say that it's too soon to call us friends," Kaard chuckled, "But we did just take a lovers' leap..."

When Oumitsu tensed, Kaard laughed, then Oumitsu joined him.

"We've slowed," Oumitsu sighed, to Kaard, he didn't seem the type to laugh often. "We can resurface now... Our enemy might be waiting for us. Be ready."

"The two reached for their power, and felt it flare. A dozen kin sparked into being to his perceptions, and began wary circles around him. "I'm ready."

As soon as the words were out, Kaard felt himself launched from the blackness. He twisted in the air, but still landed sprawled out flat. His kin whorled all about, protectively in the few seconds needed to get his bearings. Before even that was done, he heard the sounds of combat. Oumitsu was already fighting, and other he knew other figures were trying to descend upon him.

Kaard sprung to his feet with an instinctive snarl, and danced away from the noise. A glance showed that they had sprung up in the middle of several uniformed police, each in varying stages of surprise, acceptance, and then aggression.

Kaard continued to dance while he watched them, and saw on each a tiny spec of something that looked looked just like the Gold-Rider's power. "Oumitsu... You see this?"

"You're distracting!" Oumitsu grunted as he flipped an officer onto his back, slamming him hard into the ground, knocking the man out. "What is it?"

"These guys are influenced by the Gold-Rider," Kaard lashed out and thrust his palm into a charging officer's face. The man would have shaken it off, if not for several kin, following his hand and smashing in succession into the man's face, knocking him over. He didn't get up.

"Does that matter?" Oumitsu said, dropping another.

"I guess not..." Kaard said, seeing one reach for his gun. Several kin lashed out and wrapped around the officer's head, forcing the man to drop what turned out to be a stun gun. "Either way, we should get gone, yeah?"

Oumitsu dropped another who leveled a stunner at him, then he groaned, and turned, making for the hospital parking lot. Kaard joined him, binding any who got to close. As his still-bare feet slapped the rough black-top, he felt the kin abandon their vessels when he got to far away from them, as if they were bound tightly to him.

A police cruiser screeched to a halt in from of them, and it was Jay who called to them from the drivers' seat. "Get in!"

"Who are you?!" Oumitsu demanded, twitching his fingers.

"He's cool! Get in!"Kaard opened the door and dove into the far end of the back seat, with Oumitsu right behind him. He slammed the door shut just as the other cops pulled actual guns and opened fire. They were each so loud that Kaard's ears rang. Jay sped off, sirens blaring.

"Whoo-hoo!" Kaard was exhilarated. It was like the old days, the days when fighting for one's life was simply a matter of course. This is what life should be all the time! Predator eat prey! Prey escape predator! He thrashed and stamped his feet, then he roared out, filling the car with noise and laughter. "That was so, WILD!!"

Oumitsu stiffened, sighing as he endured the outpouring of ruckus. "Shamans...."

"How now?" Kaard calmed, with his attentions now focused on learning something new.

Jay laughed loudly, matching Kaard's own booming voice. "Shamans, boy! Men of Pangaea! You and me!!"

Kaard felt himself grin, feeding on Jay's positive energies. "Well, isn't 'shaman' just another word for 'mage'?"

"Shaman is just a mage who draws their power from Pangaea," Oumitsu muttered, "I get mine from a... quieter place."

"And who might you be?" Jay frowned, his parade drizzled on a bit.

"I am the Black," Oumitsu puffed up a bit.

"And what Path might you walk?" Jay asked, focusing back on the road.

"I'm a Sorcerer," Oumitsu said, "So I'm of Purgatory."

"Really? As in THE Purgatory? Hell?" Kaard said, amused, almost thinking that it's down right arrogant to say such a thing without some kind of proof.

"Not 'hell', just someplace... challenging to be." Oumitsu reacted with the patience one expends on that blue collar friend... it was the same voice he used with Angel in the beginning. That rankled him, but Kaard had no proper response this time around. "You there, officer...?"

"Jay," he answered, eying the two with an observer's gaze.

"Jay," Oumitsu continued, "Tell me of the others, I've met two, and each seems to know absolutely nothing."

"YOU should know absolutely nothing," Jay snorted, "Though I'm not surprised you do, Mesmer..."

"Not every being in this city is as stingy with their thoughts," Oumitsu glanced at Kaard.

Kaard asked himself if Oumitsu could really read his mind. The question was swept aside as Kaard made a sudden decision. He screamed out and ran a cascade of random memories and images, most containing or centering the impossible beings only he could see.

When Kaard opened his eyes, he saw Oumitsu huddled away, holding his head and blinking tears from his eyes.

Kaard giggled. "See?" He said, "I don't need to be stingy. All you need to do is let me catch you leafing through my head again; or even just hint that you have done so."

"Which is all well and good, but until you learn to channel it, you are sadly mistaken to think you might match wits with me..." The shadows deepened all around him, and suddenly, Kaard felt very precariously perched.

"I'm just making a point... sweetness," Kaard muttered with a purr, and suddenly those same shadows seemed filled with hungry, staring eyes. "Do. Not. Threaten me..."

Oumitsu and Kaard glared at each other until Kaard could no longer find the entertainment from doing so. He giggled, then sat back, as if at a private joke. Oumitsu simply sighed, seemingly equally bored and gazed out the window.

"You two done seeing who's bigger?" Jay muttered.

"Yeah," Kaard said, "I'm bigger." He glanced at Oumitsu. He knew this guy already; Kaard's words had gotten to him, but Oumitsu cleaved hard to discipline. He wouldn't "dignify the quip" with an objection, leaving the last comment hanging in the universe. That would be Kaard's advantage; preying on this Sorcerer's machismo.

Jay seemed to chuckle as he pulled up to Be Tempted. When he parked, he got out and gave Oumitsu a hard shove. "You get off here," Jay growled, "Get inside."

Oumitsu gave Jay a hard look, but then turned on his heel and headed toward the warehouse. Kaard watched him until he blended with the shadows and disappeared.

Jay returned to the car, taking the wheel, and the two were off.

Kaard finally began nursing his raw, bleeding feet, picking out gravel as he found it. With the adrenaline fading, he realized how stupid it had been to free run in just a hospital robe. "Jay?" Kaard asked, "Where is my family...?" He paused as a sudden, curious ache took him. The question had been out of his mouth before he realized he'd said anything. With everything going on, he'd forgotten that his house burning down would have been a whole lot worse if someone had still been inside. "You're a cop... and magic... You'd know that.... right?"

"Kaard... your family is safe," Jay sighed.

"There's a 'but' in there..." Kaard narrowed his eyes.

"But..." Jay began slowly. "You can't see them for awhile."

"Hm... Curious," Kaard said in a soft, measured tone, "You say 'can't' as if I can even compute that word after Quantum Leaping to a mythic Super-continent..."

Jay's laughter was likely far more belittling than it was meant to be, but when Kaard laughed back, Jay's own giggles redoubled into a kind of bellow.

Jackass... Kaard thought to himself. He fell silent and focused out of the window for awhile. In that time, he'd made up his mind to find them later. But first.... "So what's going to happen to me?"

"Now that you're one of us," Jay's grin was apparent in his voice, "You'll either live the life you've always wanted, or you'll die."

Kaard felt the blood drain from his face, but the fear promptly went muffled as the simmering static of his Power welled up through his skin. That was quickly consumed by by his kin, which immediately bristled into being against his skin. They sent tails waving out from under his clothes, careful not to block his view of the man who'd just--

"Cool that, Young Lord..." Jay said in a soft, dangerous voice. "I'M not the danger you face. Never have been."

Kaard eyed Jay moment, before doing the breathing, folding exercises Ames had taught him, folding his Power, and his Kin, gently away. He remembered the Spirits, and he remembered the Gold Rider. He had better things to be afraid of.

"Black..." Kaard mused after a long moment. "What did he mean when he sad we were 'rivals'?"

"He means that there's a chance for you to conquer this city for yourself," Jay's answer was so straight forward that it caught Kaard off guard. "It needs conquering, too. Only a Paragon can do it."

"What's that?"

"A paragon is pure Magic given human form." Jay said. "To anyone else, they seem totally human, but every cell is filled with one type of Power or another."

"So... I'm supposed to be one of these... Paragons?"

"Yes," Jay said. "It is why spirits torment you. You are the Paragon of Spirit, created from, and bound to, Pangaea."

"So Goldie and Blacky?"

"Are Paragons as well," Jay answered, "Black is the Paragon of Thought, from Purgatory... I have no idea who Gold is."

"But I'm a spirit, aren't I?"

"Yes, that's how you started... but you embarked on a journey to become human. Such a thing is just one way a High Realm might create a Paragon. You became a Paragon by fate, but you became human for yourself, by will."

Kaard took a moment to order his thoughts. Paragons... High Realms... Rivals.... Magic. Why? "Jay?" Kaard started finally, "Magic comes from the high realms?"

Jay smiled. "Very good."

"How?"

"This reality, everything in this world, is the byproduct of the Five High Realms. Magic, then, is the ability to connect to the High Realms to control those byproducts. There are five Realms in all. Imagine that our entire universe as a marble. In the grand scheme of things, that's really all we are. A twinkle compared to all of eternity..."

"Blah, blah blah-blah..."

Jay snorted. "Fine.

Jay fell quiet while Kaard digested this information. Jay asked if Kaard was ready for more and Kaard nodded.

"So where do Paragons come in?" Kaard pressed.

"Ease up," Jay chuckled, "We aren't there yet. I mentioned that there are five Realms. From each, our world gets two Arcana, or Aspects of Reality. Pangaea sends down Spirit, which you already know well, and Life: Plants, animals, bodily function, and other tricks over living cells. Think of shamans in mythology and the witch-doctors you've heard of."

Kaard had seen the words during his studies, but had glossed over them, assuming they were unremarkable con-artists. When Kaard had said as much, Jay just laughed. "Most are just charlatans and fakes." He said, "However, they imitate real Magics that humanity has experienced, or witnessed, much like most religions." This made Kaard remember Ames and the Cathedral.

"So, that's the Power the spirits want from me?" Kaard asked.

"Oh, yes," Jay said. "Power does not flow here in equal measure. It trickles little by little into this world. A spirit's survival depends upon consuming as many trickles as he can, increasing his own flow from Pangaea. You are much more than a trickle. The good news is that you can now tap into your own well-spring of Power for yourself."

"Because I'm a Paragon?"

"Because you're now a Paragon-Mage," Jay smiled.

"How?" Kaard asked, growing excited.

"You've already done it!" Jay said. "touch your power."

Kaard did, and felt it, first in his bones, then in his blood, skin, then the talismans still wrapped around his arms. It felt funny as it crawled into them before using it to make itself a pair of "bodies"; his Kin. They lifted from his arm to swim lazily around the car like fish in a bowl.

"Nice..." Jay nodded as he watched from the rear-view mirror. "You use those to enforce your will on spirits."

"What are they...?" Kaard asked, watching them, enchanted now that he could admire them.

"They were ofuda, talismans, but now, with your power, they're lu, a sort of spiritual symbiote, or sprite," Jay said. "It would usually take decades of cultivating the soul to grow them. Very nicely done."

"Wow..." Kaard breathed. "You said I could control Them with these?"

"Didn't Ames explain this Craft to you?" Jay grumbled.

"Craft?" Kaard's ears perked at the emphasis of the word.

"Answer the question, Young Lord," Jay said bluntly. Kaard noted that calling one Young Lord lost a lot of it's reverence when the same "Lord" was chided in the same breath.

"I was... erm," Kaard tugged on his beard, remembering the way Ames' black shirt went a little taut over his chest... "Yeah, I was kinda distracted." Kaard nodded, liking that dodge. Very elegant indeed.

"Keep it in your pants and pay attention," Jay growled. Kaard had the distinct impression of a lover's jealousy. "The _ofuda_are "royal commandments", passed down from powerful spirits to lesser ones."

Kaard snorted. "Is that all?" He held out a hand, palm up. The Lu danced around his fingers. "We create laws and commandments for human society, and I have it on good authority that they don't mean shit to a lot of people..."

"That's because--" Jay began.

"--I mean, A LOT of people, Jay." As if to punctuate the point, a small grouping of people didn't even spare a glance at the cruiser before scattering like cockroaches into deeper shadows. Then the whole scene was wiped away in orange as the car slipped into a tunnel, bathing the car, inside and out, in fire.

"Even mortal law has some spiritual weight - evil must be invited in, children are to be protected, so on, and so forth..." Jay went on, loudly, "But man makes laws solely based on the material, and law-makers are rarely spiritually potent themselves. Worse, since machines do most of the actual writing, or are displayed as data on the net, there is no direct spiritual impact to laws nowadays. Time was, however, that when an Imperial Edict was read aloud, it was difficult to refuse. That's in part because the law-makers were required to be a nation's spiritual focus. However, Shintoist priests could not only use their own spiritual might, but they could borrow from higher powers. With you, there is no such middle man."

"Because I was a god." Kaard said, totally deadpan. Acknowledging what no one else would for the first time.

"Right," Jay responded, eying Kaard again in the mirror. "It can go to your head."

"Not if I remember that it's only a small 'g'-god..." Kaard stared out the window. "There are a lot of those and I have no idea how high up on am in the...." He trailed off then sat forward. "Say.... which pantheon am I from?"

"You're fairly unique in that you have had short stays in several pantheons over your lifetimes,"Jay answered after a pause." And while powerful, you never took up too high a position of power. We think that your origin is Egyptian, though."

An odd, undefinable airiness came over Kaard. It was almost a memory, but nothing so tangible as that. "I wasn't ever welcome among gods, Jay." He knew it. He didn't know how he knew it, but he was absolutely sure of the statement.

He watched the world slide by until the urbane fell away starkly into wilderness. "Where are we going?"

"To the last place you were worshiped," Jay said softly.

Kaard shifted only his eyes to glance at Jay, and tried to determine the cause of the larger man's wary tone...

* * *

Their drive ended well off the road, deep into the crest of trees that framed Fortuna's Maw. The area was once part of a small city, but it was wiped out as a side effect of Fortuna Crater's creation. The ruins were fought over, as were so many others in the aftermath. In that time, nature had reclaimed cracked and eviscerated ruin. Plants held everything in iron, verdant grips, and animals had come to flourish. When a dangerous, and believed to be extinct, mushroom was discovered, the area was declared to be a part of a nearby nature preserve, raising it to National Preserve status. They had arrived in Ocala National Preserve.

Othello tried to picture the place before Mother Nature reclaimed it foe Herself... Without the green, everything looked sundered. This place did not crumble or rot away. What was left of the buildings were laid open, like the remains of a psychotic vivisection. The rooms of any building left actually standing were shown clearly simply by rounding a corner like gigantic doll houses. A low fog flowed through any space that allowed it passage, or pooled milkily where it could not, casting everything a cobwebbed eeriness as it caught the setting sun's bloody glow.

They got out of the car amid the chewed and shredded gravel that was once a parking lot. Getting out of the car, Kaard became aware of infinite consciousnesses focus on him from within the fog around is ankles. He peered into it, trying to pick them out, but couldn't spot any spirits there. Still he knew they were there....

"What are you looking for?" Jay was watching Kaard closely.

"The spirits in this fog...." Kaard murmured softly, not wanting to rouse anything.

"Fog, Lord?" Jay narrowed his eyes at him.

Kaard looked up and met Jay's gaze. "Yeah... its full of them."

"There's no fog here, Lord Kaard," Jay said, watching the young godling's reaction.

Kaard blinked, taking a moment to carefully craft his response. "What is here then?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "What makes this place special?"

Jay touched his own scruffy ginger beard. "This place has an unusually thin Shroud," he answered. "The barrier between our world and that of the spirits."

Kaard stared down into the swirling mists. So the spirit world is separate from ours... but touches ours. This mist... this Shroud...

"Have you seen this fog elsewhere?" Jay asked.

"I see it all the time, once every month or so...." Kaard said softly, "It covers the whole city, doesn't it?"

"We haven't had anything like a fog like that in years," Jay said. Then he nodded with a small smile. "This is how you perceive the Shroud. I'm guessing you see it in the middle of the month, with every full moon."

Several things clicked in Kaard's mind. The Little Ones were more numerous in the fog. The days following the fog's lift was when They were more active. Moving through it somehow felt more substantial... "The Shroud... How does it work?"

Jay was about to answer, but instead he lifted an ear. "Later for that," He said, "Your fan club is here."

Kaard lifted his eyes away from the fog and looked out into the twilight. Thick masculine shapes were moving among the trees and buildings, edging closer to them. Six men, each wearing the clothes of woodsmen stepped into clear view. Two of them were lean and wiry, but the others looked like linebackers, or retired construction men, with the type of muscle used for hefting great weight or intimidating slighter men. Among them was Simon. The sight of him eased the tension in Kaard's shoulders. They formed a semi-circle around the two. The slimmer men of the group bowed, bending slightly at the hip. The others sunk to their knees, and bowed low enough to dip faces into the mist. "My Lord Kaard..." The muttered in gentle chorus.

Kaard raised eyebrows, and felt his nostrils flare. He remained silent.

"This is the Lodge of the Blind Thousand Eyes..." Jay whispered. "A small sect devoted to what you represent. Revelry in Masculine Beauty. Glorifying in the flesh of warriors. Empowerment of the dynamic between the submissive and the regal. Utility tapped by the confident."

"A gay sex-cult..." Kaard summed up, with a smile that was as much hungry as it was condescending.

"Sex is,,, important here," Jay allowed. "More so is the ideal that power should be in the hands of the submissive, while guided by the strength of the underestimated. And that trust, love and fellowship between men is the highest of attainment."

Kaard stroked his beard. "Small, for a cult, no?"

"My Lord, we are not a cult..." On of the leaner men tensed when he spoke. The others seemed to hold their respective breath.

Kaard stepped forward to stand in front of the man. Looking down as he was still bent over. "Oh?" He smirked, bemused. "So what are you?"

"Sanctuary," he said. Though Kaard didn't see the man's face, he got the sense that he'd set his jaw to respond confidently. Kaard decided he liked this person.

"Sanctuary for whom?" Kaard purred.

It was the second bowed man who answered. "For those who don't trust 'equality' in romance... For those of us who crave to Dominate... Or find peace in submission... Who feel safest to love freely that way."

"For those who want men to be MEN, Lord!" The first shuddered in a sort of excitement.

"Jay?" Kaard paced between the two bowed men. "What is it exactly that I'm doing here?"

"Show him..." Jay instructed. The men all rose and looked hard at Kaard before the two lean men turned to walk down the street. Kaard stroked his beard and followed them. Before long, the men turned and headed into the darkening woods.

I'm following a group of muscular gay men with a thing for sexual Domination into the woods... At night... He thought with a smile.This is going to be really good, or really REALLY bad...

The fog deepened as they trekked, rising from his knees to his waist. As the darkness deepened with it, Jay handed him a flashlight. Kaard flicked it on and swept the area in his path with it. He caught glimpses of spirits watching him before they ducked antlered heads behind trees or down into the murky fog. The trees grew thicker, and the area took on odd smells. Urine, sweat... lust. Kaard inhaled it deeply and made a hungry sound in his throat. The closest of the big men shivered, almost stumbling. He glances back at Kaard with a smokey look in his dark eyes. Though Kaard did not consciously communicate a threat in his look, the man flushed, lowered widened eyes and shuffled quickly ahead, putting space between himself and Kaard. In his wake, the man left the scent of lust in his musk. Tingling a bit, Kaard followed at a measured pace, like a shark on a blood-trail.

So intent he was on watching the thick man that when he was suddenly treading smooth, even stone, he almost tripped. He looked around the clearing they had arrived in. The trees had been cleared away for about ten yards in any direction. He saw wooden torches, capped with bowl-like sconces, each filled with fresh, dry wood. Each of them were spaced a part from each other to encircle what appeared to be a wide stone table, worn smooth and uneven, but large enough for three large adults to lay on comfortably. Each of the men went to one if the six torches and lit it. The flame filled the area with light and musky spice. The combination of the two seemed to banish and thin the mists from the area. It revealed a great stone circle that covered the clearing floor. Between the torches were smaller bed-like altars. There were designs cut into the floor, each depicting a carved figure. It had the body like that of an ape or a cat. It had a lush, full mane. It had wings and tails made up of flowery peacock-like feathers. It had a serenely confident smirk with a plainly braided beard.

Kaard stared numbly at himself, rendered in stone carving.

There were several popping and crackling sounds that Kaard at first mistook to be wood burning and water escaping. But it was too regular, low in pitch, and seemed organic somehow. He looked up and saw the bodies of the big men swell and heave indecently. Each cast lustful, hungry glances at him, even as their jaws protruded grotesquely past stretched open lips, or as skin spit and tore to expose the shaggy fur underneath, or as clothing shredded, giving way to increasing mass it could not contain. They panted and groaned in a pain they seemed to greatly enjoy.

Kaard new what had to come next. He felt anxiety well up within him. Maybe a touch of fear or dread... It was all sopped away from him and greedily consumed by his lu which unfurled behind him. The werewolves' eyes widened in frenzied excitement. Three began creeping forward, even as their transformations continued, nightmarish swollen and mismatched limbs claws towards him. Only Simon stayed in place, staring.

"Three on one...." Kaard hefted his power in his consciousness a bit, before reaching out with the same to touch each wolf. None was as strong as Simon... "Well, at least it's a fair fight...." Kaard licked his lips slowly. "This time... I'm just going to hurt you." The though made his pants tight with throbbing anticipation. He groaned lewdly.

"Come on then..."