As The Scrolls Unroll -- One

[Awesome Aphrodite]

Ellie found Omri. He had decapitated Janis. But… she was still in wolf form…!! I was almost certain that her death would return my powers to me. Ellie knelt next to Omri and placed her hands on him. The green glow allowed me to see more clearly what had happened. It was not a pretty sight. Kneeling, I put my hand on the headless body of the three-legged wolf. A red glow joined the green glow, and the three-legged wolf transformed back into the form of the one-armed Amazon named Janis.

When I looked at Ellie, her eyes had widened.

“What was that?”

I smiled. I could feel it. Grinning at her, I transformed back into my wolf form. Losing myself for a moment, I approached Omri, and licked him on the top of his head. I tasted blood, but I was so happy Omri was alive that I really didn’t care. His tail wagged slowly. Soon, the green glow faded, and Omri stood up. Ellie got up from her kneeling position, and we all ran back to the cave through the rain.

[EllieNeo]

so. janis… was dead. and ava… was alive. ellie was still processing this as she lifted her soaking-wet saddlebags and walked back to where she had left ava, nela, and lauri.

when she rounded the corner, and the two horses, ava, and lauri were in view, ellie stopped. she dropped her saddlebags. nela… had short black hair, was two and a half feet tall, dressed, and was walking back and forth between ava and lauri. ellie shook her head. nela looked about two years old. how…?

the sound the saddlebags made as they hit the cave floor caught ava’s attention. she looked up at ellie, then called nela to her, and picked her up. she walked over to ellie with her, a smile on her face.

“ellie. isn’t she beautiful?”

ellie gaped. she couldn’t believe what she had just seen.

“she… can walk…?

ava nodded.

“just a little.”

ava handed nela to ellie, and nela giggled. ellie looked at ava, then back at the toddler she held in her arms, then back at ava.

“ava, she was just born. how…”

lauri’s voice interrupted ellie.

“it’s a side effect of annabelle’s power, ellie. both ava and nela have to age to catch up with the amount of time they were dead. once they’ve caught up, which should be very soon, they’ll grow at the normal rate.”

…of course. why hadn’t ellie thought of that…? probably because she didn’t know bringing people back to life was even possible!? ellie shook her head and looked at nela, who was smiling widely. ‘oh my gods…’ thought ellie. ‘she looks just like me.’ the only difference was her eyes… she had ava’s deep blue eyes. ellie smiled.

“hiya, nela.”

nela giggled, and threw her arms around ellie’s neck. ellie smiled, and kissed the top of nela’s head. ava was right. she was beautiful.

[EllieNeo]

soundcloud.com/ellieneo/golden-slumbers

“once there was a way
to get back homeward.
once there was a way
to get back home.
sleep, pretty darling,
do not cry
and i will sing a lullaby.

golden slumbers
fill your eyes.
smiles await you when you rise.
sleep, pretty darling,
do not cry
and i will sing a lullaby.

once there was a way
to get back homeward
yeah
once there was a way
to get back home
sleep, pretty darling,
do not cry
and i will sing a lullaby.”

having finished singing to nela, ellie placed her now sleeping daughter on the bedroll next to ava. ava looked at ellie and smiled, covering nela with a blanket.

“…and you always said you couldn’t sing.”

ellie smiled, stroking nela’s fine black hair. she leaned down and gently kissed the top of nela’s head; careful not to wake her; then looked back at ava and smiled again.

“i lied.”



note: the voice on the recording linked at the top of this post is mine. hope you all enjoyed it.

[EllieNeo]

nela lay on the bedroll, fast asleep. lauri sat near the fire, her eyes closed, her legs crossed. ellie and ava sat with their backs against the wall near nela, holding onto each other tightly. tears were rolling down ellie's cheeks. ava looked up into ellie's face, and wiped the tears away.

"ellie... what's wrong?"

ellie shook her head. ava looked deeply into ellie's eyes, then hugged her more tightly.

"ellie... i'm sorry."

ellie was confused.

"what for?"

"i'm sorry i left you."

ellie shook her head.

"it wasn't your fault. i left you to fight alone. if i had stayed..."

"no, ellie. you would have died, too."

"you don't know that."

"yes i do."

ellie held ava and they sat in silence for awhile. the tears began to roll down ellie's cheeks again, and ava looked at her and wiped the tears away.

"i'm here, ellie."

ellie kissed ava's forehead. ava reached up and took ellie's face in her hands, looking into her deep green eyes. ellie looked back into ava's beautiful blue eyes, and a slight smile appeared on her face. ava was telling the truth... she was there. ellie knew she wasn't dreaming. ava broke the silence.

"you found my note?"

ellie nodded. but she could no longer look at ava. she closed her eyes and hung her head, pulling her face from ava's hands. she kept her head down as she spoke.

"ava... i did become a monster. you... you were right. when you were killed... i... i lost control... i... i killed them. i killed them... all[/i]. they had taken you away from me. they had taken away... the only thing that mattered to me in my life. you... and our baby. my family. all i could think was that they were... they... they were animals[/i]. and i... i slaughtered[/i] them like animals. i... did[/i] become a monster..."

ava took ellie's hands. she placed her forehead against ellie's before she spoke again.

"no. you didn't."

"yes... i did."

"ellie. look at me."

ellie slowly opened her eyes. ava shook her head.

"you did not[/i] become a monster. i can... feel it. you lost control, and i can understand why. but you're sitting here, crying over the ones that you killed. i know your heart, just like you know mine. and you're still the woman i fell in love with. you're not a monster, ellie."

ellie shook her head. her voice was so low when she spoke that ava had to strain to hear her.

"...how do you know?"

ava kissed ellie on the forehead, then looked into her eyes again and smiled.

"your eyes told me."

[EllieNeo]

ava and nela were sound asleep on the bedroll. ellie smiled as she knelt nearby and watched them. simply watching them sleeping brought joy to her heart. she leaned down and kissed the top of ava’s head. she whispered to her, four words she had not said in many years.

"i love you, ava."

ava sighed.

"i love you, ellie."

ava then rolled over, draping her arm protectively over nela, and fell back asleep.

ellie turned around. lauri was still sitting in front of the fire, cross-legged, with her eyes closed. meditating, by the looks of things. ellie didn’t care. she had a major bone to pick with her. standing, she approached lauri. without opening her eyes, lauri spoke.

“ask.”

ellie almost growled at lauri. she was angry, but didn’t want to wake ava or nela by raising her voice. her whisper was slightly louder than she intended, though.

“you knew. you knew that she would be pregnant when she was brought back. you f*cking KNEW[/u]…!! why didn’t you tell me???[/i]”

lauri opened her eyes and looked up at ellie. ellie knelt next to her.

“would it have mattered if i had?”

ellie shook her head. but it wasn’t an answer.

“of course it would have mattered. do you honestly think that i’m selfish enough to risk the life of our daughter by bringing her back to life right when a war is starting… yes, i love ava. i love ava more than i've ever loved anyone. more than i love myself. you caught me. you knew that. losing her almost killed me. but bringing her back wasn’t selfish on my part. i brought her back so she could help us win this war. how are either of us going to be effective fighters if we have to worry about keeping nela safe???”

lauri blinked. ellie felt her confusion and surprise. but she wasn’t finished. she had to know.

“lauri…” ellie sat next to her. “…how did you know…?”

lauri sighed.

“i told you queen eglise was brought back twice. twice is the limit. the last time she was brought back, over twenty years ago, her death was my fault. ren had been kidnapped... taken by men who called themselves 'samurai,' to an island across the great waters. queen eglise knew how important it was that ren be rescued, so she agreed to come with me to get her back. it was... an ambush. it was a trap they had set, for the sole purpose of killing the queen. ren ended up saving me, but could not save the queen from being decapitated. on that island, ren obtained her weapon of choice... the katana that you now wield, ellie.”

ellie looked down at her katana, and gripped its handle, then looked back up at lauri, who continued.

“once the men who had taken ren and killed the queen were defeated, we gathered many katana, and burned the queen's body. we then brought the katana and the queen's ashes back here. ren then brought the queen to this cave and brought her back to life.”

ellie shook her head. what did this have to do with anything?

“you haven't answered my question, lauri. samurai, katana... what does a trip to japan have to do with anything?”

lauri blinked. she had never heard the island's name, but it somehow sounded right. shaking that thought from her head, she sighed.

“the last time eglise was brought back to life, she was pregnant with ava.”

ellie blinked. slowly, she turned her head and glanced at ava, who was still sound asleep across the cave with nela in her arms. she then looked back at lauri.

“you… mean…”

lauri nodded.

“yes. this is the second time ava has been brought back, as well. if ava dies again, she cannot be brought back again. she will be dead... permanently.”

ellie shook her head hard. she had barely survived losing ava once. the thought of losing her again… and permanently... irreversibly... no. NO.

no. not again. never again. she decided. standing, she turned and walked back to ava and nela, laying on the bedroll next to them. she looked at lauri, and their eyes met.

“in the morning… i’m sending them away.”

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy woke the next morning with a new sense of purpose. She'd been in and out trying to stay connected with Phalon since she got here. Let's face it. She was out of her element now. She had no idea how to live like this. She'd been relying on others to teach her and gently prod her in the right direction.

It was time for that to change. She was stuck here now, she had to accept that. She had nothing to go back to. No family left, well except for Phalon. And due to her having never really made a home for herself she had no friends to speak of either. No one to miss her. It was time to take care of herself for a change. And that included letting Phalon teach her about how to use her power.

Phalon awoke to Scrappy packing her gear on the bike and getting ready to leave.

“Good morning.” Phalon was wary. She'd never seen this kind of mood on her before. She didn't know what to do with it. It looked something like resignation. “Sleep well?”

“No I didn't. But, I think that's going to change. “ Scrappy crossed the small clearing and squatted down next to Phalon so she could look her in the face. “I'm out of my element here. I've always wanted to keep myself apart from others to protect them,“ she hesitated. “No, really to protect myself. That's going to change. I need to learn how to be in this world. I'm here now. Time to make the best of it.”

She stood and offered her hand. “Will you teach me?”

[Phalon]

“A new Scrappy, eh?” Phalon mused, as she took the hand offered, and let Scrappy pull her to her feet. Though now standing, Phalon still had to look up to Scrappy’s face; the other woman was quite a bit taller – a whole head taller – than Phalon. “This new you doesn’t change the fact that we’ll still never see eye-to-eye, you know”, Phalon laughed.

Scrappy rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I’m serious, Phalon.”

“I know you are, Scrappy”, Phalon replied quietly. “Remember when I first came to the House of Whoosher? I was a lost soul, alone, out of time and place…nothing but a ghost; a spirit you’d get a glimpse of here and there, or a voice in your head, and you’d wonder if your mind was playing tricks on you in that hellish place. But yet, you reached out to me, and pulled me into your world…literally. You remember?”

“Of course, I remember. How could I possibly forget that hell-hole…as much as I’d like to.”

“Once you made contact, I was still lost, still just a ghostly voice in your head…but one thing changed. I wasn’t alone anymore…. Will I help you? Can there be any doubt?”

“Thank you, Phalon.”

“First thing’s first, then”, Phalon said matter-of-factly, as she reached for Scrappy’s hand. “You trust me, yes?”

“Yes.” If Phalon had any doubts Scrappy was being entirely truthful, she kept them to herself. Scrappy definitely did need help in this world new to her, and more importantly, she was now willing to accept it.

“Ok, then”, she nodded, and her with eyes never leaving Scrappy’s, she began to pull back the heavy leather glove that Scrappy wore to shield herself against feeling others’ emotions. Phalon felt Scrappy stiffen, but she didn’t jerk her hand away. She finished removing the glove, then did the same to the other hand. Now that Scrappy was free of her defense, Phalon clasped both her hands, and wrapping her own around them, let her emotions radiate from her.

Without the gloves as a barrier, Scrappy felt warmth in the embrace….it was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time; a feeling unknown to her since her mother died.

It was the warmth of family.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy closed her eyes and tried not to panic. She could feel the comfort and feeling of family Phalon was sending. In her mind's eye she saw the golden aura surrounding her friend. The feeling was warm and safe.

She could also sense the darkness around the edges. It threatened to take over, to swallow her whole. All of the bad things that came with her power began to swarm in. Scrappy tensed and tried to pull away. She didn't want to see what was coming, she only wanted the good things. Phalon wouldn't let go.

Quietly in her head Scrappy heard Phalon trying to talk to her.

“Scr.......don't......go.....stay.......” Phalon gripped Scrappy's hands tighter. “Relax. I'm here. Accept the darkness.”

Scrappy took a deep breath. “I'm afraid.”

“I know. Everyone, everything, has something dark. You have to learn to accept that.” Scrappy wanted to cry. Her stomach was churning. “The darkness isn't bad. It just is.”

She opened her eyes and looked at Phalon. Suddenly she was being pulled in. She knew it to be an old memory instantly. It wasn't quite formed.

She could see a field in high summer edged by a deep thick forest. Green grass grown so tall the tops were heavy with seeds swaying slightly in the breeze. Tall flowers peeking through the sea of green. Two children came running into view. Chasing each other around in circles cutting large paths into the grass. Their high pitched laughter rang across the fields with abandon.

A nimble young girl was being chased by a slightly taller boy. “You stole my sword!” yelled the boy as he ran after his sister.

“It's a stick and I didn't 'steal' it!” Scrappy could tell there was no seriousness in the argument. But there was still a sense of dread surrounding the vision. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Abruptly Scrappy found herself as part of the vision instead of just watching. She was standing thigh deep in the grass and flowering weeds watching the kids chase each other around. She could actually smell the slightly wet ground and the meadow shined in the sun. Distracted she reached her hand out to brush her fingers across the tops of the grass. Looking down she realized she wasn't wearing her gloves. Out of habit she pulled her hand back in a panic.

“Don't worry you shouldn't get any visions here, you're already in one.”

Scrappy turned around and found herself facing Phalon. “What are we doing here?”

I want to show you that even bad visions aren't bad. They teach you things. But you have to be willing to listen to them. Acceptance. This is your first lesson.”

Scrappy turned back toward the scene. “I'm a hero!” The fair haired boy bellowed. “I need my sword!”

“It's a STICK!”

In one long stride he caught up with the girl and tackled her. Tumbling like a pair of puppies, they rolled to a stop obscured by the grass.

“That's my brother and me.” Phalon stepped forward so she was abreast of Scrappy. “I can't remember how old we were. It's funny how much clearer this memory is when filtered through your power.”

“Welcome to my world. If something bad is about to happen I'm not sure I want to be here.”

“Heck I'm not sure I want to be here. Phalon looked up at Scrappy and put her hand on the taller woman's shoulder. “If I can go through this again then so can you.”

Resigned to not being let off the hook Scrappy sighed and turned her attention back to the meadow. She became aware of a low rumbling sound coming from the tree line. It grew in intensity. The children were still obscured by the grass, the boy straddling the girl attempting to tickle her into submission. With slow realization Scrappy realized she knew what the sound was. She hadn't heard it a lot when she was in her own world but here she'd heard it nearly every day.

“Horses. A lot of them. Coming this way.” she turned to Phalon. “Shit they're going to get trampled!” Scrappy started to run across the field.

Phalon grabbed her arm. “You are here to watch. Anyway, you can't fix it. You aren't really here.”

Scrappy pulled against Phalon's grip. Frustration clearly written across her face. “Ok. I get it. You can let go.” Phalon let go of her arm.

Seconds later Scrappy saw them. Ten men on horseback thundered out of the forest. They were headed straight for the kids.

[Phalon]

The horsemen fanned out across the meadow, riding ten abreast. One of them broke rank, and rode out ahead, leading the formation. Like Scrappy, the children heard the horses before they saw them. The girl wrestled free from her brother. On her knees, she parted the field grasses and flowers to peer at the oncoming pack of men bearing down on them.

“Phalon, stay down. Maybe they won’t see us”, the young boy whispered urgently. It was a naïve thought. There was nowhere for them to hide.

Young Phalon rose to her feet. She stood as tall as her short stature allowed, not stiffly, but firm. She still held her brother’s pretend sword, and her hand tightened its grip on it as if ready to swing, but the tip of the stick remained planted at the ground. Darkness that had remained on the fringes of the vision started to creep in.

“Oh, my god…What the hell is she doing?! She’s going to get them both killed!” Scrappy screamed, caught up in the scene that played before her, forgetting for the moment that the girl with the make-shift sword and the woman next to her were the same person, years apart.

“Ahem.”

“Oh, right”, Scrappy said looking at Phalon, realizing her mistake, and a bit relieved she wasn’t to witness a massacre.

“Phalon, don’t!” Her brother begged in a loud whisper, remaining crouched in the tall grasses, and pulling on the hem of his sister's skirt.

Jaw set, the girl-Phalon ignored him, her eyes fixed on the lead horseman.

“I’ve seen that same expression on your face a hundred times. It’s..it’s not a look of defiance, exactly…not arrogance…not even bravery….what is it?” Scrappy was thinking aloud, speaking more to herself than to Phalon.

“Determination?” Phalon offered.

“Hhmm….determination”, Scrappy repeated, still not really speaking directly to Phalon.

“Determination to face head-on whatever comes?” Phalon added.

Emerging from her thoughts, Scrappy returned Phalon’s gaze. “This is part of the lesson, isn’t it?” she sighed.

“Yes. Yes, it is. You are an exceptionally strong woman, Scrappy. I’ve never, not once seen you back down from a challenge. You don’t run from danger, or hide in fear. Except behind these…” Phalon answered, holding up the leather gloves.

“To use the Gift,” she continued, “…to understand its power, you must to face whatever it offers, good or bad, with resolve. The things we are shown…the visions, the memories of others…can at times be overwhelming. Lose your determination, and you run the risk getting lost in those visions. You risk losing yourself. There is where the danger lays.”

She nodded toward the younger version of herself. “Now watch.”

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy turned back toward the scene. She wished she had her gloves even though she knew where she was and what she was watching wasn't reality. She wanted the illusion of comfort if not the reality. Truth be told Phalon was kinda pissing her off. She knew herself well enough to know that when she felt like this she never learned anything useful. She felt like a scolded child. She had asked for help not a lecture.

She was also aware that her behavior had probably elicited this kind of teaching method from Phalon. She hadn't exactly been acting like an adult. Running from the tough stuff and attempting to bury her head in the sand so to speak. How could she be treated any other way than how she'd been acting.

Scrappy told herself she would take this lesson as it was supposed to be intended, a kindness not a scolding. But she would have to have a conversation about methods with Phalon later. Teach, don't sermonize, she would tell her friend. Grow up, don't sulk, she told herself. Phalon will find the balance.

She refocused on the scene and waited for the next part to reveal itself.

[Phalon]

Phalon smiled inwardly. She knew Scrappy was frustrated with her. Typical, she thought. During the time they’d known each other, little of it was spent without Scrappy being impatient with her, and Phalon had to admit she found it slightly amusing. It was a weird kind of game they played. This wasn’t fun and games, though. Scrappy had asked for her help, and Phalon had lessons to teach – lessons she had learned the hard way. Scrappy may not have expected the help to come in this form, or this soon, but if Phalon could spare her friend any of the dark inner turmoil that nearly destroyed her, she was going to do it, and start now before Scrappy had a chance to change her mind. No matter how committed Scrappy was when she asked for help, resolve has a way of breaking down with passing time.

But there was also the chance Scrappy might lose her willingness to learn if Phalon lectured too much. She still had much to say, but better now to show, not tell. She nodded toward the children. “Now watch”, she said, and they turned their attention back to the scene playing out before them.

Dense, gray fog now swirled about the meadow. The air was charged as if the heavens were going to let loose a violent storm, although the sky above was clear blue. The horsemen brought with them a chill, and as they rode passed the women, Phalon saw Scrappy shiver.

The men on horseback encircled the children, and stood silent while the lead horseman paced back and forth in front of the girl Phalon. The thunderous hooves of his horse stomping the ground as it paced, and its snorts that turned to steam in the chilly air as soon as it left its nostrils were the only sounds in the meadow. They seemed magnified in the tension-charged quiet.

He finally stopped pacing in front of Phalon, and ignored her for the moment, directing his attention to the tall grass behind her. Harshly, he roared, “Show yourself, boy! I know you’re down there.”

Dismounting his horse, one of the men in the circle reached down and grabbed Phalon’s brother, holding him in the air by the back of his shirt collar. The young boy’s legs flailed wildly, searching for solid ground until he was deposited unceremoniously next to his sister.

“What should I do with you two?” the leader bellowed sharply, more to himself than to the children. His face was grim, and forehead deeply furrowed as he mulled their fate. The boy squirmed uncomfortably, while Young Phalon stood her ground, unflinching.

“Your mother was frantic when she couldn’t find you. She has the entire village out looking! There will be Tartarus to pay when she gets hold of you! How many times have you both been told to stay close to home? Phalon, you’re older; you should know better.”

“Yes, father”, she answered, her voice clear and unwavering. She held her father’s glare firmly, but her face was filled with shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Gelasuis? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Gelasius fidgeted, dancing on one foot, then the other, and stammered, “I….I…I didn’t…”

“I asked you a question, Son. Answer me!”

“She… She stole my sword!!!”

“It’s a stick!” Phalon and their father yelled in unison.

[Tami Z]

Naianasa and the Waiting

She squinted for a moment before setting her bags at her feet in order to raise her hand to shield her eyes. Small waves in the bay caught the bright sun, throwing razors of piercing light through her area of sight. They were running slow, she thought, as she scanned the open water, watching for the boat that would bring Phalon and whoever had survived and was disposed to follow her. Upon good betting odds, she knew Phalon would return to the breath of the sea that nurtured her in youth, the island of Naianasa.

Standing atop a ragged stone cliff face, Malory thought back to recent events. From the house meant to be a bulwark against evil, which failed in a space of time that seemed to be a mortal life's measure, to her recent trip taken to ensure that a final ending had been met, she cracked her neck and turned away from her survey of the sea. Collapsing her wings, she returned to her human form. While the flight to the island was refreshing exercise, it was not the same without her companions of several centuries. With a sigh still heavy with the loss, she retrieved a sleep mat and blanket with which to curl up. Resting her head upon her saddlebags, she caressed the warm leather and attuned her senses, preternatural even in sleep, and she dozed off in the shade offered by the overhanging shelf of stone older than her.

The Greek might be slow, but she always found her way home.

[Phalon]

“That’s it?!”, Scrappy asked, more than a little annoyed. “You dragged me all the way back to your childhood to show me…what? That your father got mad at you?”

“Yep, that’s about it, Scrappy”, Phalon sighed. “I knew Gelasuis and I weren’t supposed to leave the courtyard behind our family’s store, and yet we left anyway. I was older; my parents trusted me to look after my brother, and I let them down. My father was a kind man who rarely lost his temper…and I adored him. The worst thing I could probably imagine then was to have him disappointed in me.

“His memory of that day would have been very different. Messengers from a neighboring village had sent word of Roman ships spotted sailing close to the coastline. Our town scouts had been patrolling the area for days for soldiers. Everyone was on edge, in anticipation of a raid. When my brother and I were missing, the alarm – perhaps fueled by paranoia – was that we were taken to be sold into the slave trade; it wasn’t an uncommon practice. My father’s memory would have been one of fear.

“Now my brother….”, Phalon rolled her eyes and chuckled, “if he has any memory of it at all, is probably only that I took his stick.”

“Thanks for sharing the family memories; very moving”, Scrappy said with a note of sarcasm, “But what you’re telling me is obvious. You each have different memories. One hundred people can witness the same event, and each of them will walk away with a different perception of how it happened. I get it. What I don’t get is out of all the memories you must have floating around in your head, why you felt you needed to show me this one.”

Scrappy’s frustration began to wear on Phalon. “I think that would be obvious too”, she shot back. “Since you’re without the armor of your gloves, I thought I’d start with an easy one even you could handle.” She instantly regretted it. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath before beginning again, “It was a child’s memory, Scrappy, and attached to it are a child’s emotions. But it’s not that simple. Think about that vision; think about not only what your saw, but what you felt while seeing it…the sunshine, the darkness around the edges, the fog…when you think about that, the vision becomes more complex.” Again she took Scrappy’s hands in her own, and brought them both back to the meadow.

Phalon stood with her back toward Scrappy, looking out across a scene drained of color. The vibrancy of high summer in the meadow had been replaced by bleak shades of gray; it was as if they were standing in an old, grainy black and white movie. Leaves of the surrounding forest seem to whisper in the wind, although there wasn’t the slightest breeze; the air was stagnant.

She began to speak in a voice as lifeless as the meadow, “It was here that I first learned I could see into the minds of others. I was not physically present at the time, but witnessed something through someone else’s eyes…someone I loved. Afterward, the visions started to come frequently, and I began to think I was losing my mind.

“They came from everywhere, from everyone I touched…the assault was relentless.”

A wind picked up, bringing the whisperings closer. Phalon spun around to face Scrappy, who appeared surprised to find herself looking at a woman different than the one she’d grown to know. She was older than the young girl in the other vision – but not by much.

A girl of about seventeen or eighteen spoke with words that came in a rush, in a voice wrought with panic. “I cannot make them stop. I want them to go away, but they won’t. I try and try, but they won’t leave me alone.”

The whispering closed in on them, growing louder into a cacophony of unintelligible jabbering, bellowing laughter, and shrill screams of anguish.

Scrappy covered her ears, trying to block it out. Phalon stood motionless, her arms held stiffly at her sides with her hands balled into fists. Her eyes were shut tight, and jaw clenched, as if she could will the noise to cease.

Scrappy winced in pain as Phalon pierced into her mind a single thought. “Make it stop, make it stop, make-it-stop, make-it-stop, makeitstop, makeitstop…I want it to STOP!!!”

And it did.

The wind died, and the noise faded back to a whisper that receded into the forest. Abruptly, Phalon’s eyes shot open - eyes black as coal that wept blood-red tears. “Help me!!!” she screamed.

In the physical world, Phalon let go of Scrappy’s hands. Instantly, they were back in the small clearing where they had spent the night, both of them reeling and gasping for air.

“Damn you, Phalon!”, Scrappy panted, trying to catch her breath.

“You needed to see it, Scrappy. You needed to feel what the Power can do to you if you let it; it must be controlled or it will consume you. Intense joy, burning hatred, profound love, absolute evil – the Power allows us not only to feel these things; we see them. Emotions get projected as images into the visions, and the visions get twisted. The darkness and fog in the meadow when I stood before my father….was it real? I honestly can’t say – perhaps it was, or perhaps my emotions altered the memory so that those images became part of the vision.

“The things we see - whether memories from the past, or things that have yet to happen – are real; there is always truth in them. But the truth gets distorted by emotion. You cannot see into the mind of another without seeing into the heart.

“To use this power we share effectively, the truth in the visions must be distinguished from that which becomes distorted by emotion…and that emotion must not be confused as your own.” Even listening to herself, it sounded like an impossible task.

It must have sounded the same to Scrappy. “And how am I supposed to learn to do that?” she asked.

“Same as with anything else,” Phalon replied. “Practice. And of course…I’ll be there to help.”

Scrappy sighed. Phalon smiled as she began to gather the few remaining supplies left around their camp. The reluctant pupil might not like the teaching method, but she seemed resigned to accept it…at least for now. She packed her bedroll into the saddlebags of the motorcycle, and started strapping on the leather sheath that held her sword at her back. Scrappy watched with her arms crossed, seeming to be lost in thought.

When she spoke, it was with a slightly sly tone as if she’d been let in on a secret that Phalon didn’t know. “There was something else in the meadow that day when your brother and you were kids, wasn’t there? Something other than the fear of disappointing your father? I felt it – the air was charged with an electricity. I felt the excitement…tell me, was it the first time?”

“Huh?” mumbled Phalon, half listening as she examined her sword, polishing the blade with the hem of her robe. Satisfied it was wiped clean of nonexistent dust only she could see, she brought it home to its place in the sheath.

“You didn’t need it; you never even intended on using it. You knew it was your father on horseback, but yet you held on to it, standing there like some stoic heroine in a campy T.V. show. Why didn’t you just toss it aside – after-all, it was only a stick.”

“Ah, you caught me, Scrappy”, she said with a grin. “In my hands it was a sword.”

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy watched as Phalon fussed around camp and packed. She assumed Phalon was letting her digest the latest lesson in relative peace. “Truth, Distortion, Truth, Distortion.” Scrappy chanted in her head. She wasn't used to seeing things through peoples eyes. Her talent, gift, curse or whatever you wanted to call it, tended toward inanimate objects. She wasn't used to the emotion behind the visions. Her head pounded and she was slightly cranky. This was the first of many lessons she just needed to suck it up and accept it. She wasn't used to having someone wiser try to teach her anything. Her younger years were spent brooding or pissing off anyone who might have taken an interest in her. She'd had her books and her animals. She suddenly found herself feeling immense gratitude to Phalon. She just wasn't sure how to express that. She wasn't even sure if she actually wanted to express it.

Scrappy sighed and looked at her friend. “Any ideas how we might make enough money to get boat passage to your family's village?”

Phalon looked up from her camp deconstruction. “Actually I do. You can help me gather some herbs on the way which I can sell at the local apothecary. You could always sell your gloves.”

“My what? Yeah that's not going to happen.” Scrappy shot Phalon a 'way too soon for that suggestion' look. “Speaking of which, I'd like them back now.”

“Fine. You will have to go without them at some point. They only stall your progress.”

“I know. Just not yet ok?”

“Ok. How about that interesting pair of leather pants? Not sure why they have no seat but the blacksmith may give us a good price for them.”

“Fine. I can't imagine I'll need them anyway.” She put her hands on her hips. “Can we get moving? I'd like to get to the port town before sunset.”

“We'll be there well before sunset. But we'll have to stash you and your bike somewhere while I make the arrangements. I realize you have some kind of internal translation process with me but you don't speak Greek and I'm not sure how the towns people would take to my six foot amazon friend.”

“Yeah I don't want to cause trouble.”

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy and Phalon arrived at the outskirts of the tiny fishing village foot sore and worn out from having to walk the last three miles. Scrappy was not made for walking. Her heavy boots dragged her down and wore her out. The last mile was spent mentally assessing her outfit. The leather and the heavy boots were great for protecting her against crash and accident on her bike, but this new nomadic life was for the birds. She was sure she had blisters in inappropriate places. First thing she'd have to do, she told herself, was to get a new outfit when she got to Phalon's family's house. A little less biker chick and a lot more forest chick. One more piece of the transformation. This new leaf she was turning was looking more and more like a major alteration to her core. Scrappy sighed subconsciously.

“We're almost there Scrappy. No need to continue to pout.” Phalon shot her one of those motherly looks.

“Did I do that out loud?” Phalon shot her a 'you know you did' look. “I'm sorry. I'm not pouting I'm just reminding myself that this 'new Scrappy' is going to take a lot more work. Starting with new shoes.”

“Ah yes I bet those boots must be uncomfortable.”

“I'm going to need to learn some helpful skill at some point. I can't rely on you for food and clothing forever.”

“We'll figure something out.”

“Maybe I can recite poetry?”

Phalon snorted. “Limericks don't count.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“There's a clearing up ahead. I figure we'll stash you and the bike there and I'll take our trade goods into town and come back when I have made the arrangements.”

“Good plan. Can you pick me up a cloak while you're there? I'd like to cover up my outfit while I travel.”

“No problem. I actually have a plan for that.”

“Oh god. Now what?”

“You'll be fine.”


Scrappy hid with her bike in a small outcrop of pines while she waited for Phalon. Several hours passed before she heard Phalon making her way back whistling some unknown tune. “Scrappy? Scrappy come out.” It was getting dark now and Phalon was having trouble seeing where Scrappy had hidden.

Scrappy stood and pushed aside the brambles and bushes they had used to disguise the hiding spot. “Took you long enough.”

“Don't complain. I have something for you.” She handed Scrappy a bundle.

Scrappy opened the bundle. A small belt with a hook fell out. “What is this?”

“Its a cloak and a collar.”

“A what?!”

“It's a collar. Put it on.” Scrappy just stood on the path and glared. “We have to explain the fact that you can't speak Greek and the fact that you are a good foot taller than most of the other women here. You are now a foreign slave. Owned by me.” Scrappy continued to glare. “You won't talk and you will do as I tell you. It's perfect.” Scrappy wasn't budging and her expression didn't show any sign of agreement. “Just until we get off the boat I promise.”

Scrappy did as she was told and strapped the small belt collar around her neck then put on the cloak to cover her clothes. “Now what?”

Phalon looked at the sky, “It's dark enough now. Now we push the bike to the dock and get on board the ship. I managed to get a good price for your pants and a fair amount for all the plants we gathered. I got enough to get us and the bike to the island by morning. Boats don't usually sail at night around here but I 'convinced' them.”

“Convinced them? Dare I ask how?”

“Money. How else would I do it?”

Scrappy snorted out a small laugh. “If you don't know I'm not going to explain it.”

Phalon rolled her eyes. “Lets go.”

[TamiZ]

And So We Meet Again


The dock carried the song-like calls of the fishermen bringing in their morning’s catch, hawking them to the buyers before their ships were securely tethered to their pilings. The calls of the water birds above distracted Malory and she glanced up to watch them ride the winds like a lover’s seduction during a slow dance. Despite leaning against a shadowed market stall, she was bumped and longed to be away from the crowd. She simply moved to another area, closer to an empty boat slip; she was waiting for the Greek and her company.

An hour ago, they had been navigating the lifted crags of stone into the bay as if they were as perilous as the Scylla and Charybdis. Malory chose not to belittle their wise caution, as the wind seemed to carry the small boat against its desired course. Knowing they would be in port before the midday sun’s peak, she gathered a few things and had quickly made her way down the old weathered goat path to the seedier side of the mariners’ vices. Avoiding any contact with the sailors new in town, she eventually found herself as she was now, observing the small watercraft being anchored and secured in its berth.

She watched as memories not yet faded, nor forgotten, carefully made their way down the plank to the stationary dock. While Phalon looked none the worse for wear, Scrappy carried an unhealthy pallor, which was only highlighted by something that drew a rare reaction from the ancient welcoming party. In Greek, she greeted Phalon, looking down as she slightly bowed to the smaller woman.

“Phalon,” she said in a sly whisper, “I just never saw that in you,” she finished with a nod down at Scrappy, who had fallen to her knees and was pressing her forehead to the rough wood, a collar secured around her neck. “She seems well trained.”

Studying her travel mate, Phalon merely snorted and shook her head. “She’s sea sick and can’t speak a word of a civilized tongue to curse it.”

“Unfortunate,” Malory whispered as she knelt next to Scrappy and changed her language known to the 21st century woman, talking quietly. “You would think with all of that two-wheeled racing you do that you would be thrilled to race upon the sea.”

Scrappy looked up and paused for a moment before putting her head back down with a groan. “It’s still moving,” she complained before taking a deep breath and looking back to Malory. “Where have you been? We’ve been on this time plane forever.”

Malory sought confirmation from Phalon, who shrugged, but nodded nonetheless.

Looking back to Scrappy, Malory noticed that the gloves were gone and her brow grew tight in thought for a moment before closing herself off from the young mind reader. She patted Scrappy’s hand and finally responded to the question of her recent travels with a slow clearing of her throat. “The depths of Hell,” she replied with the dry ghost of a smile. “Ever been?”

[Scrappy Amazon]

And the Sea Will Tell

Scrappy looked up at the tall woman, her stomach churning like she'd just eaten a 5 pound burrito. She remained prostrate despite being addressed from above. She had been warned about behaving like the 20th century woman she was while dressed as a slave. Phalon had schooled her before they boarded the boat the night before. Scrappy had balked initially at the instructions Phalon had given her but decided to make the best of it.

However at this moment she stayed where she was not because of the instructions given but because she was fairly sure she couldn't stand. She heard Malory make a comment about her bike, “You would think with all of that two-wheeled racing you do that you would be thrilled to race upon the sea.”

Scrappy looked slightly annoyed at the sarcasm in Malory's voice. She put her head back down, the seasickness almost immediately causing her to regret that even slight movement. “It’s still moving,” she whispered to herself. She felt weak and vulnerable. This was a condition she couldn't fight and it made her feel dumb. She tried to use the slave persona to cover up her weakness. She was sick and frustrated and took her frustration out on the nearest most likely target. “Where have you been? We’ve been on this time plane forever.”

Malory seemed to grin. Or at least that's how Scrappy took it. “The depths of Hell,” she replied with the dry ghost of a smile. “Ever been?”

“You mean besides the horrific boat trip I just took?” she growled and shot a glance at Phalon. “Can I get up now?”

Phalon smiled. “Of course. If you think you can.” Phalon extended a hand and, for the benefit of those watching the three women, commanded her to rise.

Scrappy ignored the offered assistance and sat up slowly on her knees with her eyes closed allowing her equilibrium to return to normal without the interference of the ground appearing to swell. She tucked one foot under her and stood up gingerly swallowing the stomach juices that threatened to be spilled all over the dock.

Scrappy dusted herself off still green around the gills. A rather large sailor approached them from the gangplank. Several men were fighting a large wooden crate as it was being hoisted over the rail of the boat and settled on the dock. Phalon gave the man instructions then turned back to her long lost friend. “I have a lot of questions. Not the least of which is, did you help us get out of that house? But it'll have to wait, I have to go and find someone to cart that crate down the hill into town. I'll be back shortly.”

“It's good to see you. I'm glad you made it out. Though I think part me never doubted you would end up here at some point. Any idea how to get me home?” Scrappy ran sweaty fingers through slightly damp hair.

“Do you want to go home?” Malory lifted an eyebrow as she asked the question. “Seems to me you are on a better path here.” She reached out and touched Scrappy's hand. Scrappy flinched and pulled her hand back out of habit.

“I don't know honestly. Phalon is a good friend and she's agreed to teach me how to control this, “ she hesitated, “gift.”

“Sounds like we should table that for now then. Where are we going?”

“Phalon hasn't seen her family in a very long time. Her family lives in a cottage in town, we are going to see them. But enough about us. What about you? What's the weather like in Hell this time of year?”

[Phalon]

So Close

Phalon walked through the streets shaking her head. “Malory!” she announced out loud once more to herself, not out of disbelief that Malory made it out of the Whoosher House; if anyone could have defeated the demon, Phalon would’ve placed her bets on Malory. It was that Malory had met them here, on the tiny island that was Phalon’s childhood home that caused her to shake her head in wonder. It seemed to Phalon there was reason to suspect there was something more to it; perhaps there was something left unfinished. She anticipated hearing the details of Malory’s story – the missing pieces of the puzzle both she and Scrappy tried to piece together from what little they remembered of the final hours spent in that house. This was not the time or place to linger on past events, though. She felt it imperative to leave the busy port town quickly and quietly.

Scrappy’s seasickness came as a bonus; it kept her looking the submissive part of a slave, though it wouldn’t last long. Soon she’d regain her equilibrium, and being submissive, even if it was just an act, went against every grain of Scrappy’s character. Phalon wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up; she was surprised Scrappy even agreed to it in the first place. Her motorcycle was also cause for concern. Though it was crated, the dock hands would be curious; Greek women rarely traveled without the accompaniment of men, and neither did they own property. It was odd enough that they were in possession of the large crate, but if its contents became known, Phalon wasn’t sure how they’d explain the strange wheeled iron horse, where it came from, and how they came to own it.

If the three women and their crate drew suspicions, then there was Phalon herself. Her gift of sight was better accepted in places she was not known. Its sudden onset when she was barely a woman, the near madness that followed, and her mysterious disappearance soon after, spawned rumors of sorcery. Rumors sometimes fade; other times they persist, and if not quelled, become embellished until they grow into legends. Though she did not grow up in this town, her family had always done business here and was well-known. Her trips home were infrequent enough over the years that the townspeople in her childhood village still viewed her with suspicion. The port was close enough to her own village that those rumors might also still exist here, and she did not know how she’d be received if she was recognized. They needed to get out without drawing attention to themselves.

She set herself to the task of finding a cart and horses. It was going to be difficult; they had bartered nearly everything they had for boat passage. She was glad for the task, though; it kept her mind occupied and gave her something to do aside from worrying if she’d find her family alive when she got home. She still had no idea how much time had passed on this plane while she was in the House of Whoosher; for all she knew, it may have been years. The closer she got to home, the more her apprehension grew.

Her eyes followed the dirt road leading out of the busy port. The road narrowed as it rose up a long, steep hill, then ran alongside a cliff parallel to the sea, and disappeared over a ridge. The view of the sea from the cliff was the one Phalon knew as a child; her village lay just over the ridge. Every week when she was a young girl, her father would bring her and Gelasuis with him to do his trading at port, picking up goods and supplies for the family store; Gelasuis would still trade here, taking over the family business with her mother after her father died. She could just ask any of the merchants here about her brother, but the thought of what the answer could be frightened her. She suddenly realized she had been unconsciously scanning the crowd for his familiar face.

When she heard a woman’s voice ask “Pardon me? Can I help you”, she also realized she’d been unconsciously pacing in front of a stall, and talking aloud to herself.

So much for not drawing attention to herself, she thought.

[Phalon]

Two Horses, One Cart, and a Dash of Magic

“Pardon me”, the vendor repeated. “Would you like to buy something?” she asked, with an expression of both exasperation and wariness written on her face.

Phalon knew she appeared odd, pacing in front of the stall, talking to herself, and was most likely causing potential customers to steer clear of the woman’s wares. “Do you know where, good woman, I might find horses and cart for rent?”

“You might try the stables”, the woman said, stating the obvious, her voice laced with aggravation.

“Ah, yes…the stables. An excellent suggestion. And where might I find the stables?”

The woman sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re practically standing in front of them”, she nodded toward the street.

The whoosh of bellows forcing air into a fire cauldron drew Phalon’s attention to the direction the woman had indicated. A smith worked below a sign that read “Archippos & Sons Stable and Smithy”; he stared at her, but quickly looked away when their eyes met.

Phalon turned back to the vendor. “Thank you”, she said warmly, reaching out to clasp her hand, but the woman pulled it away before contact was made, and Phalon wondered if she’d been recognized. She raised her brow in question.

The woman did the same and pursed her lips in disapproval, leaving Phalon nothing to do but turn on her heel, her long robe stirring up swirls of dust as she crossed the street to the stables.

The smith watched her approach. His face was weathered from the sea air, and his shoulders were stooped from a lifetime of hard, honest work, but he still appeared strong despite his aging years. With iron tongs he took the red-hot metal from the fire, and began pounding it on an anvil as she started to speak.

“Can you tell me where I may find Archippos?” Phalon asked loudly enough to be heard over his hammering.

“I am Archippos”, he answered, continuing to strike the hot metal without pause.

“Do you know the storekeeper Gelasuis of Nikomedes?” Phalon asked louder, the inklings of a plan starting to formulate in her head.

“I know of him, yes.” The rhythmic hammering did not ease.

The plan was risky, but she decided to take the chance. “Gelasuis left word on the docks that I was to find Archippos…that he would have horses and a cart waiting to haul my shipment to the village of Nikomedes.”

He finally laid his tools down, looking away from his work and at her. Phalon saw suspicion in his eyes, and there was a curtness in his tone that caused Phalon to wince inwardly. “I spoke to Gelasuis the day before last. He mentioned none of this.”

The day before last?! Phalon could barely contain her excitement. Her brother was alive! She struggled to stay calm, and keep her identity concealed. She needed that cart!

“A strong tailwind kept the ship’s course strong and steady…perhaps I arrived earlier than he had anticipated”, she offered. The smith’s look of skepticism didn’t waiver, but he did not resume hammering.

“Please, Sir”, Phalon said, using the quiet pause to spin her tale. “I am a foreign merchant coming from a land far across the seas. It’s been a difficult and long journey despite the good winds; Gelasuis will be waiting for the goods I bring. I fear he will not wait much longer, or the cargo will fall prey to marauders if its delivery is delayed.” She looked over her shoulder, and lowering her voice, leaned in close to his face as if she was going to let him in on a secret.

Archippos looked at her with an odd sort of fascination, as if perhaps he found some sort of unexpected amusement in this strange interruption to his work. He said nothing however, so she continued. “It’s precious metal, you know”, she whispered, then straightened. In a normal tone, she added, “Payment for use of the horses and cart, and their return will be done by Gelasuis himself once he has possession of the goods.”

The story didn’t sound too far-fetched, she hoped. Her robe with its belt of trinkets and bobbles did appear somewhat foreign she supposed, and she certainly did have the disheveled look of someone who’d been on a long journey. Another plane in time could be considered a far away land across the seas, couldn’t it? That bit about the precious metal was probably a bit too much perhaps, though there was some truth to it: the bike was precious to Scrappy, and it was made of metal. Phalon never could resist a show, and silently cursed herself for it. Any air of authenticity the story might have had was just a faint wisp of breath that died almost as soon as it left her mouth.

The smith wasn’t buying any of it, and his former cold demeanor returned. “That is not the way Gelasuis conducts business, or the way his father did before him.”

“You knew my father?!” Before Phalon could stop it, the question slipped out, and seeing the Archippos narrow his eyes, she instantly regretted it.

There was an unbearably long pause. Then a look of recognition crossed his face, and his stern expression eased. “Phalon?”

“I, I…uhm…”, for once, she was at a loss for words.

“Oh, it’s okay if you don’t remember. I don’t expect you’d recognize me; you were just a little girl, and you’d come riding into town on your father’s shoulders. Of course, I was younger too then…a lot less wrinkles and a lot more hair”, he laughed genuinely. “Why didn’t you just tell me who you are from the beginning?”

“I wasn’t sure how I’d be received.”

“I am aware that at times I can be close-minded. I’ve known your family for a very long time, Phalon. They are good people. Your father was an admirable man, fair in his business dealings, and a kindly friend. His son has followed in his footsteps. And your mother…a lovely, warm-hearted woman…and a savy businesswoman”, he added, but not before a blush rose in his cheeks, and a sparkle lit his eyes.

Phalon raised an eyebrow, but let him continue without interrupting. “You cannot be that different no matter what suspicions people may have.”

She sighed deeply. It seemed to her she’d never regain total acceptance here.

“Yes, I remember the rumors of sorcery, Phalon….I also remember your family’s great sadness over your departure. I’ve lived a long time, and have seen a great many things that cannot be rationalized by the philosophers and astronomers that my youngest son is always babbling on about. There are things, both good and bad, that can only be caused by sorcery, witchery, wizardry or any other fancy word there is to describe magic, plain and simple. Whatever truth there is in those rumors, it has been distorted, of that I am sure. I do not feel I am wrong in trusting you. Take the horses and cart.”

“You are a very kind man”, she said, grasping his hand in hers in a warm embrace. She let his thoughts filter through her mind until she focused on only one – the one thing that troubled him most, and kept him awake at night. “Please…let me return the kindness….”, she offered, “Do not worry about your youngest son. He will find his way.”

“Ah”, Archippos sighed, with a pained look in his eyes. “He is good young man, but an impetuous dreamer, more interested in abstract ideas than hard work…and not the least bit interested in the business.”

“His way will be a good way, but it will be his own way.”

“But how do you…how can you be sure?” The old man seemed eager to accept her offering, but worry is a hard thing to let go.

“From experience, of course”, she smiled, “...and maybe just a little bit of magic.”

[TamiZ]

No Chance in Hell

Mallory looked down at what Phalon had handed her before the seer walked off to slowly wander through the market. A wry grin began to twitch upon her lips as she followed the crudely molded links fashioned into a chain. By the time her eyes reached Scrappy’s face, she had wrapped the leash several times around her hand. Her own expression opened to contemplation as she began to reflect upon an answer to the question of Hell.

“Not a snowball to be seen,” she replied. She chuckled with private sarcasm as she released the wrapped leash to hold just the end. “But that has nothing to do with Hell,” she muttered just above the sound of a slow, soft exhale. She glanced at Scrappy to see that she was following the seer’s progress. She continued to talk quietly in English, so as to not arouse suspicion, as she also observed Phalon and remained wary of anything out of place.

“Hell is more of a void born of Chaos,” she explained. ”It has no condition of its own. It is only a vessel of space, time, and emotion. Anything dark that crosses into Hell is magnified and dispersed like a plague until the weakest of denizens implode, falling into the deepest depths of Purgatory.”

Mallory stood straighter, mirroring Scrappy’s reaction when the shopkeeper pulled her hand from Phalon’s arm length. When the Greek moved to the metal smith, Mallory continued.

“I went to Hell to ensure that Ahriman did not accept Lucifer’s invitation to join him. I thought I was strong enough to deflect my anger, but vengeance and I are the same.”

Seeing the easy conversation across the cart way, Mallory looked down at Scrappy, who had turned her attention upon hearing the dark tone in Mallory’s voice. The demon, who was once an Advocate of Justice, shrugged as she remembered the slow swell of fury that she had held back. Or so she had thought until she had spent so much time in Hell, searching for a demon, but only finding herself.

Mallory closed herself to her companion’s curiosity, but to a passerby, she was watching the comings and going of the crowd. She mentally recalled the search in Hell.

When the House had come down, she had tried to understand the cause, but Orion’s mourning had distracted her. As she had been sitting with him at the fountain, trying to comfort him, her world collapsed when he did, turning to dust from a broken heart, missing Calliope.

As the crowd began to move around them, she slowly ground her teeth, knowing that gargoyles mate and protect for life. Calliope and Orion had been her companions, her family, and her children for centuries. Without realizing it at first, Mallory squeezed the chain links in her hand until she felt them crush in her hand. Losing both of them had triggered something inside of her, she remembered, as she wiped the small drops of blood that her talons, barely released from her human hand, had drawn. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the blue sky, calming the rage that began to find life.

Realizing that Scrappy was still studying her, she continued. “I went to Hell to finish my oath to Eurayle, to protect the Blooded Ones. I thought that I could fight the pull of the dark chaotic magnet, but I began to fail. I had to leave before I betrayed her twice.”

With silent, guarded honestly, she admitted to herself that she had wanted to end Jason’s life when he had killed Calliope. But then she had begun to gather her babies. She had swept up their powdered nobility, mixing the dust of the mated pair, to be together through eternity. By the time she was done, she no longer wanted to mortally wound the warrior. After so much time in Hell, absorbing the darkness, she wanted to obliterate him.

Only time away from Hell restored her rationality. Now, she simply preferred to never see him again. She would spare him the realization of what his utter ignorance had done to an angel that that had turned to a Vengeance demon. With that rational thought, she knew that obliterating him would not be true, worthy vengeance. It would have been unholy and far from what she had been working so hard to find her way back to.

After the failure to find the Incubus Ahriman, she thought she should get back to Eurayle’s most gifted progeny, Phalon.

“I knew she would come here,” she finally finished after the long silence, “there is no love equal to family and hearth.” And there is no soul-soothing peace like the garden of the witch that rescued me once, she thought to herself, hoping she could find her peace once more where it had begun.

[Phalon]

Little Irritations

"Now?" Scrappy asked through clenched teeth for the umpteenth time, pulling at the collar around her neck. She’d wanted to take off the slave’s collar and robe since before they reached the outskirts of town. She looked absolutely miserable.

Phalon stopped walking, and looked backed toward the port. They were over halfway up the steep hill, and it had not been an easy journey. With each bump and rut the cart’s wooden wheels hit in the road, the heavy cargo shifted in the cart, putting even more strain on the horses pulling it. The sun bore down on them, making the climb even more arduous. “Yes”, Phalon answered, “now.”

Malory unbuckled the collar at the back of Scrappy’s neck. Once they reached Nikomedes, there’d be no questions asked about her strange foreign appearance or language. Phalon would be recognized there, and her family was well-respected. The villagers would greet her and her companions with smile and nod without any outward appearance of suspicion. But each time she returned, it had been there…she always felt it.

Scrappy pulled the robe over her head, and threw it and the collar and chain to the ground.

“Hey, I bartered nearly everything we had for those!” Phalon picked them back up and shook out the dust before tossing the now unneeded disguise in the wagon. “They can be traded for something later on…” Knowing how much Scrappy hated them, she added, “Something less demeaning.”

Scrappy glared at her, but didn’t retort, and they continued their climb in silence. The absence of conversation gave Phalon time to think. She had something on her mind, and had been almost dreading broaching the subject with Scrappy for a long time, unsure of how she’d react. Phalon felt as if she owed both her and Malory some warning, though; she couldn’t keep it to herself much longer.

“How do you both feel about children?” she asked.

“Uh…that came out of nowhere”, Scrappy replied. “Children? Hhmmm…the ones I’ve known were basically spoiled, little brats, whining whenever they didn’t get their way….why ask? Oh, wait, oh, oh, oh…you’re not…are you? Oh-my-god!!! When…who?!”

“Huh?”

“OH-MY-GOD!!!!! The HOUSE!!!!! “It’s “Gabrielle’s Hope” all over again!”

Phalon had expected Scrappy might not take well to the idea of children, but was surprised by her outburst and utterly confused by what her friend was saying. Malory’s expression was one of amusement.

Ignoring Phalon’s obvious bewilderment, Scrappy turned toward Malory. “In mythology, Ahriman created Dahak…” Malory nodded, but when she said nothing, Scrappy continued impatiently, “Don’t you see?”

“Oh, I see perfectly fine”, Malory replied. “But you, Scrappy, seemed to have lost sight of reality; it’s become nothing but a distant speck on the horizon.”

“No, listen…”

“Do I have a choice?” Malory asked, rolling her eyes.

“Just look at her…she’s short…”

“Maybe it’s the heat…”

“…she’s blond..ish …”, Scrappy continued, ignoring Malory’s interjection.

“…or your collar was too tight, cutting off the blood supply to your brain.”

“And god knows, she’s irritating!”, Scrappy said, emphasizing her conclusion as if this last point was undeniable proof that her theory was correct.

“I can hear you, you know”, Phalon finally spoke. She understood nothing of this strange, new conviction of Scrappy’s, but took offense to being called irritating.

“She’s referring to a television show”, Malory started explaining to Phalon.

“Oh.” She remembered the curious box they called television from her time spent in the House of Whoosher. “She told me the things in that box weren’t real.”

“They’re not. A fact that she seems to have forgotten”, Malory said, shooting a sideways glance toward Scrappy. “The show takes place during the period in Greece that we are in now. It’s about two warrior women. The…uhm…irritating, little blonde one gets impregnated by a demon, and has a child…an evil, demonic child. Scrappy has convinced herself, history…regardless that it’s fictional…repeated itself in the Whoosher House, and you are carrying Ahriman’s child.”

“Seriously?” Phalon asked sarcastically, looking at Scrappy. “You think I’m pregnant? With the demon’s child?! What’s next? I suppose a magical fish will appear, flying in from nowhere to save the day. Honestly, Scrappy”, Phalon shook her head in astonishment, “How you come up with these things, I’ll never understand.”

“Well, you’re the one that started it by asking the question.”

“What question?”

“How I feel about kids!” Scrappy sighed with annoyance.

“Oh, right. My brother has children. A lot of children,” Phalon explained, adding, “and I can assure you, not a one of them is the spawn of a demon.”

Scrappy ignored the sarcasm. “Are any of them like you?”

Phalon thought for a moment. “Mom says Vania looks just like I did when I was her age, and I think Cassandra has my eyes.”

“But are they like you.”

“Oh, you mean do any of them have the Gift? Not that I’m aware…at least, it hasn’t appeared yet.”

“No. I mean are any of them as irritating as you.”

They seemed to come from nowhere, and the three women were instantly surrounded by a small army. A loud chorus of “Auntie Phalon!” rose up from the body of various sized children. Phalon scooped up the smallest of them who kissed her cheek, and exclaimed “I’m so glad you’re home!”

“Your question, Scrappy”, Phalon beamed, “is one you are going to have to answer yourself. My opinion, it would seem, is biased.”

To the little girl in her arms, she whispered, “Me too.”

[Scrappy Amazon]

The Crate

Scrappy watched for a while as Phalon greeted her family. They had been surprised but very pleased to see her. She had been missed, the evidence of that was clear. Faces were wet with tears of joy, everyone was hugging and laughing. Soon the sharing would begin. Phalon would sit as the center of attention and begin the long, and frankly, bizarre explanation of her recent travels. Phalon had introduced Scrappy as they entered the cozy home. She would be part of the unfolding saga, but for now she was forgotten. Later there would be questions about time travel and familial lines, in the interim, Phalon just needed to bask in the glow of her family's love. Scrappy didn't think she would be needed for a while so she ducked out unnoticed.

Scrappy made her way around to the back of the family store. A good sized well maintained barn was attached to the building. She entered the barn and made her way to the unused stall where the crate with her bike was now being stored. She circled the crate several times looking for a way to open it, almost mentally willing it to open.

“Damn ancient technology.” she swore under her breath. She jumped a little as she heard a tiny voice seemingly come from no where ask a question.

“What's in it?”

She looked around scanning the rafters and tiny loft above the stalls. Little more than a shelf for equipment storage, the loft was in near darkness. It was still large enough to hide a clever child. She smiled as a set of brown pigtails lowered from the loft and a set of blue eyes appeared. “What's in it? Are there toys?”

“Well I suppose you could say it's a...” Scrappy stopped short. A chill ran up her spine as she realized the words she heard weren't spoken out loud. “How did you do that?” She sighed. “Never mind. I should know better than to ask that question.”

“You're not from here. I didn't think you'd understand me.” the little girl scooted out from the shadows and threw her legs over the side of the loft to dangle into thin air. “What's in it?” she asked again.

Scrappy shook her head. 'I will get used to this at some point.' she told herself. To the child she said “If you help me get it open I'll show you.”

A broad toothy grin lit up the girls face. “I'll be right back!” She turned over on her stomach and threw her legs off the shelf. Lowering herself almost to the ground by her fingertips she dropped the last two feet then sped out of the barn door. Scrappy chuckled. She returned a few seconds later dragging with one hand, what appeared to be a large ax, and cradling a chunk of metal shaped lie a piece of pie in the other. “Gelasuis uses this all the time to split wood. I bet you could use it to get the crate open.”

“Clever!” Scrappy patted her on the head and grabbed the ax. “Ok stand back.” Scrappy watched as the girl scrambled back up into the loft, then she placed the wedge up right in between the edges of the crate on one side and swung the ax hard. They both heard the crack as wood the split from the side and the front of the crate fell to the ground with a soft thud cushioned by the straw on the floor. “One more I think.” she placed the wedge in between one of the other sides and the top and taped it lightly to get it fitted tightly then took another swing. The top wrenched up just enough for Scrappy to get her hand in the hole. She gripped tightly and pulled up. The top came away and the rest of the sides fell to the ground revealing her prize.

She heard an “Oooh.” from the loft. “Come down and you can see it close up if you like.”

“What is it?” she asked tentatively.

“It's a.....” Scrappy struggled with a definition the girl would understand. “It's a mechanical horse!” she blurted out but then felt pretty good about the explanation.

“Can I pet it?”

“It's not really alive but sure you can touch it.”

The girl approached cautiously and reached out with her finger tips to gently touch the bikes chrome handlebars. Her eyes and fingers followed every curve of the bike taking in all of its newness. “Can I ride it?” she looked up at Scrappy expectantly. “Please!”

“Well there's not much gas left but I suppose we could take a turn down the road a little ways. Its dark now so we won't really be seen I guess.” Scrappy was hesitant. If the villagers saw her with the little girl on the bike who knows what they would think. But then again she was so excited and surprisingly unafraid. "What the heck. Let's go.” Scrappy grabbed the handlebars pulled up the kick stand and pushed the bike out of the barn. “I have a feeling I'm totally going to regret this.”

[EllieNeo]

not dead

the sun was starting to come up. the storm was fading. one last bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and it stopped raining. janis’ body lay where it had fallen. her fingers twitched. the woods glowed bright red around her. loud, evil-sounding laughter rang through the air. when the glow faded…

janis… with both arms… grinning widely, stood and stretched. her eyes glowed red. horns sprouted from the top of her head. looking at her newly regrown left arm, she threw back her head and laughed as she approached the cave.

[Awesome Aphrodite]

Guard Duty

I had volunteered to guard the cave entrance until morning. With all that had happened, I was hyped up, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to sleep, even if I’d tried. I lay with my head on my front paws, and my eyes surveyed the woods around the cave.
As the sun came up, I felt myself starting to drift off. A noise behind me startled me. Omri was growling. When I opened my eyes, I just knew that I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. What I saw before me was impossible. As if he knew I thought I was dreaming, Omri gently bit me on the tail. OUCH! I stood, my eyes widening in disbelief, a growl issuing from the back of my throat. I was not dreaming. But I wished I was.
…Janis was alive!

[Scrappy Amazon]

The Road to Happiness

Scrappy continued to push the bike up the road about a dozen or so yards. The child followed close behind nearly skipping with joy and excitement. When she got to the spot she thought would cause the least amount of trouble she mounted the bike. The child stood next to it smiling up at Scrappy.

“Ok. Do exactly what I tell you. You are going to sit on the seat in front of me. Put your hands on the handle bars right here like this.” Scrappy wrapped her hands around the chrome part of the handlebars next to the steering bracket. “Understand?” she nodded her head, her pigtails bobbing in agreement. “Do not touch these,” Scrappy indicated the clutch and the brake levers. “Or that.” She pointed to the throttle. “Put your feet here and don't move them.” She flipped out the small pegs intended for highway driving but were perfectly placed for a smaller passenger riding in front. When she nodded her acknowledgment Scrappy picked her up and placed her firmly on the seat in front of her.

Scrappy turned the key reached down and flipped up the fuel valve then looked down at the little girl. “See this button here?” She nodded. “Push that in with your thumb.” the bike started with a grumble. She let out the clutch and the bike moved forward. Scrappy could feel the little girl tense up as she gripped the handle bars tightly and took a deep breath. Scrappy moved down the road slowly at first but then she changed gears and picked up speed. She suddenly had a flash of the first time she had been on a bike. Her dad had done the same thing for her. Said the exact same things about not touching and don't let go.

And then for the first time since she'd landed in this time period and foreign land Scrappy smiled. And not that sad 'I need to make an effort to look happy' smile, but a full on toothy grin. And then she heard it. “WoooooooooooooooWeeeeeeeeeeeee!” The little girl was ginning from ear to ear and hooting as they sped down the road. Scrappy couldn't help it she joined right in, “WootWoot!”

[TamiZ]

Keep Friends Close and Loved Ones Even Closer

Mallory kneeled upon her perch, the thick branch upon which she had rested to watch the sun rise over the eastern horizon. She heard the sounds of joy accompanied by the rumble of combustion foreign to this land and time they currently occupied. She had risen early to collect her saddlebags from her previous shelter before alighting on the branch. She adjusted the bags at her feet, ensuring they would not fall.

Knowing that the young seer would bend to the temptation to escape from the situation she found herself in, Mallory simply got comfortable and waited. It would not take long before the motorcycle would stop. While efficient with the use of its gas, it did not have too much left after she herself had drained quite a bit of it before helping Phalon crate it up. It would not be to their benefit to flaunt their presence on this plane of time and space.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Revolutionary Road

Our feeling of complete freedom didn't last long. When the bike began to sputter, choking on air and no gas, I was reminded of the reality of where I was. The modern convenience of pulling up to the local gas station and handing them my credit card was well beyond my ability now. I could manage some kind of bio fuel. I have seen all kinds of grain I could modify and turn into alcohol. Problem is, the bike was too much of a future I might not see. Hiding it and explaining it everywhere we went was becoming too much. I didn't want to give up the bike. It was part of me. Part of my personality. Part of my body. It is me. Was me I suppose. It was time now to let go of the past. Or future. I wasn't sure which. I needed to say goodbye to my bike and that wounded child that used it as a barrier.

I slowed the bike to a stop and looked down at the child in front of me. I was her at some point. I remembered the joy and wonder I had then. The curiosity and willingness to take the step forward to anything that was in front if me. Whether dangerous or not. Before all that was stripped from me violently and irrevocably. Before the fear set in and I began to believe the world was out to get me. The child grinned at me hair all askew.

“Again!”

“I can't.” I smiled back at her. “It's out of gas.”

“What?”

I sighed. “I can't make it move. We have to push it back.”

“Is it tired?”
I had to laugh. “Yeah, it's tired. Seems to be going around these days.”

I helped her get off the bike then began to push it back to the barn. I knew that would be the last time I'd get ti ride it for a very long time. Maybe forever. I was going to be ok with it though. I knew a new adventure awaited. I looked toward the sky and enjoyed the stars that weren't obscured by ambient city lights. I took a deep breath and nodded my thanks to the lone figure in the tree up ahead. I know she'd been watching and probably had something to do with the fact that the entire village wasn't currently trying to kill me with pitch forks. I was grateful for the last ride, but also grateful for the road ahead of me.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Story Teller

I pushed the bike into the barn, the little girl twirling around me and giggling all the way to the barn. “What's your name?”

“Aella.”

“Well Aella, I think we better get inside before we miss dinner.”

“Papa brought apples from the ships yesterday!”

She skipped out of the barn and ran into the house. I parked the bike in the last stall and covered it with a tarp I found rolled up on a shelf. “Goodbye old friend.” I left the barn and didn’t look back. I had promised to start looking forward. Time to put it into better practice.

I strode to the door. Laughter poured from inside the house. They were happy to have her back. I watched for a short time as the kids jostled each other to get the prime real estate on the floor in front of Phalon. She was relating her story. She told the story with little embellishment but still made it sound like an epic adventure.

She told them how one day she was traveling the forest and the next she was a ghost in a haunted house. I grabbed a chair at the back of the room. I didn't understand what she was saying but through her gestures and occasional questions for clarification directed at me specifically I knew what she was saying. I listened as if I had not experienced most of the events she was relaying.

She told them of her discovery that I was family and that was probably why she was drawn out of this world into that one. She told of our journey back to this time through the portal and our escape from the Romans. She left out Guru. That wasn't part of the “adventure”, and I'm sure she didn't want poke old wounds. I would respect that in the future. She would relay that story only if necessary, and right now it wasn't. I could tell she left out the part about my gift as well. These were things that were feared and misunderstood outside of the family home. She would explain to the grown ups alone later but she couldn't trust the children to keep quiet about it. One slip in front of one of their friends and the community would be either pounding down the door out of fear or the family would become pariahs. They couldn't afford that.

[Scrappy Amazon]

And Time Passed

Time passed slowly and quietly here. Like a bright summer day that felt like it would last forever. I learned to adapt and fit in better. I was eventually fitted with more appropriate clothing. I was loathe to give up my leather and my jeans but Phalon insisted that I try harder not to stand out. I could do that for her. At least I wasn't made to wear a dress. The logic was that everyone would identify me as a foreigner already, so they outfitted me as a northern Amazon. I would stand out, but not as a modern woman.

The children taught me to speak Greek. It was hard but not as hard as it could have been. I had help from Aella. Anytime I wasn't getting the right word she would project it into my head. With time I was pretty good. I was OK. I could order food, help out at the grocery and get my basic point across, but I was getting better every day.

Several months passed before I approached Phalon with my concerns. I found her cleaning and organizing a few shelves in the back of the store in preparation for a shipment from the docks.

“Can we talk?” I spoke in English.

“We can,” she switched to Greek “if you speak Greek. You still need the practice.”

“Phalon please. It's important and I'm not good enough yet.”

Phalon stopped wiping the shelf and looked up. She could tell by my tone that this was a little more than chit chat. “What's on your mind?”

“This isn't my place. Here. With these people. They are lovely and honest and amazing and I am so grateful they took me in with little more than a nod from you. But, this isn't my place. If I'm going to figure out my place I need to go out in the world and do that.”

“Ok. Where do you want to go?”

“I don't know. I know I have more to learn that I can't learn here. I want to figure out if I can get home. And more importantly I want to learn how to live in this place. I need to learn how to defend myself with weapons that don't require gun powder.”

“You can learn those things here.”

“I'm not asking you to come with me. Though you would be welcome company if you did. I won't ask you to leave your family. I see how much you love them.”