Wynter strained, her muscles screaming in protest against the dead weight of her brother who blacked out about five minutes ago. Barbara stood on his other side, her arm bracing him up as they made their way through the graveyard and onto the street. But even with her help, Evan weighed a ton which hardly made sense since he was basically a glorified bag of bones. Evan's head lolled to the side as they walked in silence. Wynter watched the woman out of the corner of her eye.
Barbara's face retained that grim expression as they headed down the street, turning left onto Lake road. She saw her gaze wander from shadow to shadow in search of danger but even now Wynter just couldn't bring herself to believe that this was real. Demons? A magical sword? A mysterious woman who could be the only link to a reality beyond her own? Things like that just didn't happen an a regular Tuesday in Glendale.
But....
She glanced down where her starkly pale fingers grasped tightly at the hilt of her brother's sword. Its blade glowing dimly in the dark, the runes upon slithered along its length as of alive within the strange metal.
Wynter couldn't help the growing hunger inside, the need to know more. Magic. Such a small word for such a large concept. Magic wasn't supposed to be real. It was supposed to be a myth, a delusion, from long before science, created to explain what humans couldn't understand. Alive only in books or one's mind. Not in the form of demons that stalk the night or freaky tools of death or a teenage girl's dreams that can only be a result of being touched in the head.
'This isn't supposed to be real,' said that little voice in her head.
But I want it to be.
Obviously, Wynter didn't want to be crazy, to find out that this was all a dream. There was something about all this she knew would be the answer to a question she'd asked herself since the day they stepped foot in that church. Who am I?
They came to a sudden stop, so abrupt that Wynter nearly let Evan's head fall to the wet stones of the pavement.
"Here we are," Barbara announced and Wynter looked up and frowned. Before them was what had to be the most neglected little building she'd ever had the misfortune to look upon.
It was a two storey building with cracked windows smudged with layers of mould where inside was a sad display of dusty old books, walls of blue peeling paint with its wooden sign hanging above the old wooden door, creaking with every gust of the wind, announcing the name of the bookstore.
"Wordsmith."
"Yes, my home," Barbara confirmed with an affectionate smile. If this is your home, I'd rather sleep in the alley, Wynter thought.
They headed in, the door creaking loudly as it swang inward. Barbara turned on the lights which were little lamps hung at intervals on the four walls of the store, shedding a dim light. Wynter coughed violently as years of dust rose up and into her nose.
"Yes, sorry," Barbara said with a sheepish smile, "It's been a while since I cleaned. Never got any visitors, you know."
Looking around, she could see why. There were piles of books everywhere. In boxes, on the many shelves, spoiled over all the floor. Honestly, there was so many books that Wynter could barely find a space to walk and with Evan clinging to her well...books went flying all over the place.
"OW!" she yelped as a collector's edition of A Court of Thorns and Roses fell on her head.
"Oh, dear! I've been looking for that," Barbara grabbed the book and gestured to a grimy old couch that sat in the far left corner of the dark room. It was also covered in books, "We can put him down there."
Wynter eyed the couch, ignoring the books, the thing looked barely sturdy enough to carry more weight, not to mention it had a horrendous odour that smelt suspiciously like cat piss. She shrugged and shuffled over there, dumping Evan like a sack of potatoes.
"So, now what?" She asked and turned. Her jaw fell open.
The store, it....transformed?
Instead of the dusty room of books, it was replaced with neat shelves running along the walls up to the ceiling, the lamps glowed brighter giving the place new life. There was a hearth behind her, a warm fire already ablaze and a door next to it that stood ajar, revealing a staircase to the second floor. The floors were polished dark wooden boards covered in animal hides as rugs. And everywhere, on the floor, the shelves, the staircase, before the fire were cats. Lots and lots of cats lounging and staring at her curiously.
Barbara stood in the middle of the room, her dust coat abandoned on a rack beside the front door so she only wore grey turtle neck and black jeans. She looked up, her dark eyes warm and bright, "Much better, yes?". In her arms, purring in content was a familiar black and white cat.
"Cat?"
Barbara arched a brow at her, "Cat? No, no this is Duchess," she gave the cat an affectionate scratch behind the ears, "Honestly, who names a cat Cat?"
Wynter blinked, "Well, she wasn't our pet so it would have inappropriate to name...Hold up! She gave us the necklace! She was there!"
"Well, of course! I asked her to look after you two."
Wynter's mind turned, "Look after us? Wait. You gave her the necklace to give to us?"
"Well. No. That was entirely her own doing. Though Mercy was always an heirloom of your family. Eventually it was going to fall into your brother's hands."
"Mercy? That's the sword's name?," piped up a voice beside her. Evan had awakened, propping himself up by his elbows. He looked awfully pale though that was to be expected.
"Yes and no. It's a bit complicated," Barbara said, puttting down Duchess and walking over to a small chest that sat on a shelf behind her.
"Woah, back up. You said 'an heirloom of your family.' What do you mean by that? I thought our parents left us nothing," Wynter commented.
At the word "parents" Barbara's shoulders stiffened but when she turned to them, the chest in her hands, the look of ease and warmth remained.
"Children, I believe I promised you some answers.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRkTVRbz1V1
Barbara had Evan lay on his stomach with his shirt off. The stained bandages gently removed, she surveyed the mess remorsefully.
"What happened, Evander?" she asked gently as she dripped a washcloth in a bowl of water and dabbed at his wounds.
"I would rather not talk about it," Evan said curtly.
Barbara nodded slowly, "Very well. Though I have some...ointments that will ease the pain and staunch the blood if you'd like that."
Evan hesitated then nodded. Barbara pulled from her chest a small vial filled with luminous blue liquid inside. Wynter stared at it, "What is that?"
"Zaetruserum. A healing concoction. It only works on special kind of people," there was a twinkle in her eyes as she said it. Wynter arched a brow at that.
Carefully, she dropped the stuff directly on the wounds. He winced as it slithered its way in. The liquid seemed to crawl under his skin and glowed more brightly as it did so. It was painful then...it wasn't. He looked up in wonder as the pain receded. He heard Wynter gasp and arched his neck to look. His skin began to knit back together, leaving nothing but red, angry scars crisscrossing on his back. The siblings stared as she put the vial back in her chest and snapped it shut.
Evan slowly sat up, flexing his back muscles as he did. The pain was completely gone.
"Okay, I think I'll have one of those if you're selling."
Barbara laughed, "I'm not, unfortunately. Zaetruserum is hard to come by especially here on the Surface."
Evan and Wynter exchanged confused glances. Barbara noticed and nodded, "Yes, well. I suppose I should explain that too."
"Yes, please do. From the top, preferably," Wynter added and took a seat beside him.
Barbara smiled and stood to replace the chest on its shelf and moved to stand in front of the fire. The cats gathered at her feet, purring and mewling but the owner seemed lost in thought. Evan could see the reflection of the fiery flames in her dark eyes.
"Tell me, children, do you believe in God?"
"No," they said at the same time.
Barbara chuckled, "Trust me, you won't be the first despite the evidence proving otherwise but He is real just as magic is real." She held her hands behind her back, "You see, a long, long time ago when the world was still young, darkness cloaked the earth. Demons, both great and small, roamed in the shadows and governing them were the fallen angels."
Evan scrunched up his face, "You mean like...Lucifer?"
"Yes, Lucifer along with many others. A whole legion in fact. And, you see, after they got cast out of heaven, they began to rule over the earth, over the humans. They started teaching humanity secrets of the universe that was forbidden to them and one of these was blood magic."
"Blood magic?" Wynter asked.
"Yes. Blood magic. In the Old Tongue, it is called haimakasam," she continued, her voice taking on a disgusted tone, "The most atrocious forms of magic that require blood sacrifice to use it and in doing so corrupts the soul. The fallen angels taught this to humans and over the ages, kingdoms were formed and fell with the aid of blood magic. Soon many were infected enough their souls were lost to the shadow, anything that made them human all but forgotten."
She glanced at them, her expression stony, "But the sins of the fallen angels did not end there. They adopted the nature of lust and began to breed with the humans. Their children, the Nephilim, began to infest the earth. Giants lumbering about and killing the people at a whim, striking fear in the hearts of humans. Princes of darkness, they were called. It became so bad that the human race were starting to die out. So the Lord decided bring forth the Great Flood, starting the world afresh. I'm sure you're aware of the story."
"Yeah, the world's biggest wash day that killed everybody except Noah, his family and a bunch of animals in a rickety old boat. Yeah, we know that story," Wynter said abruptly.
Barbara smiled wryly, "I wouldn't judge so quickly. Life in the dark ages were...well dark. The great Flood was a mercy in a sense," she paused and looked back at the flames. "Though the story hardly ended there...."
Barbara went on to explain that after the Great Flood had dried up, most of the Nephilim were killed but some survived along with the fallen angels. They sought refuge in parallel dimensions of the earth reduced to smoke and ash from the passage of time and claimed them as their personal domain. The thirteen realms of Hell.
"And after the covenant with Noah was made, a second covenant was later formed. One that changed the tides on humanity's suffering and sparked an eternal war with the Dark Ones. The Conscription of Heaven," Barbara continued, her dark eyes burning hot with what Evan thought was pride, "The Call to the Seraphim."
Evan frowned in confusion and turned to see Wynter shared the same expression.
"Like...the angels?" Wynter asked.
Barbara laughed and shook her head, "No, they are what we call the High Seraphim, the ones created when the earth was born. No. What I refer to is Low Seraphim, the direct descendants of Noah. His sons, their wives and their children. They were the first to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The source of True Magic."
Evan's heart stopped. Seraphim. He called the time when he was stopped by the freaky eyed fortune teller. She'd gripped his arm and looked up with a look of the purest hunger, "Seraphim. Too long have we searched for your kin!"
He exchanged a baffled look with Wynter and knew they were both thinking the same thing. We are Seraphim!
At the moment, the front door rattled loudly, startling the cats. Everyone turned to the window display and there, panting heavily against the windows were the hideous shadowy faces of the wolf demons...
"Oh, come on! Again?!"21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1U2qYhQnh0
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