Rand gave the letter an incredulously read. First he was stalked by a magical ring as though Tolkien had word of God. Then he got some kind of psychic power.

Good grief. He just wanted a life: graduate, go to college, get a job, buy a car, get married, have kids, a cottage, a cat, paid mortgage and retire.

In any case he had an injured animal on his palm. If he talked to his mom perhaps he can even keep him. Maybe it’s an escaped parrot.

He made his way back towards the car with the go-home-found-a-bird request texted to his mom.

Ran had brought the dog back to his office, having received the letter through the door slot. Opening it, he scanned the text, and felt.his power be drawn to a source, as if a strong source of magical power has appeared and was drawing everything to it. Putting on his coat, he nodded to.the.familiar and waved to it to follow, and began walking, slowing down time to try and get there as quickly as.possible, tuning the spell to match his facility’s energy signature as well. He was going to find this source and he was going to tap it for the power. Power was what mattered.

Winston had followed her Mage not exactly sure where they were going, but just to be glad to have found him. She had barely laid down in the new place to rest when the man was opening up a letter and practically rushing out the door. At the same time she suddenly felt something pulling her towards a certain direction, her mage seemed to be heading the same way. Winny followed him quickly keeping up and trying to keep alert to figure out the exact direction that it was pulling her in. She felt confident in her ability to track it wanting to take the lead, but she stayed next to her mage trusting in his ability to find the way.

Wynn glanced at her Mom who was distarcted by a curve in the road. A impish smile began to spread across Wynn’s face. Quickly She threw her pink and black sneakers on the dashboard. Her mother hated when she did that! She claimed it was unsafe but Wynn made a game of it. It was fun, waiting for her Mom to turn around and then quickly retracting her feet. Wynn was very good at not being caught. Right now her mom should still be focused-

“Winry Lorelei Sander’s are your feet on the dashboard?”

Crud. Wynn miscalculated but she still had a way to save it.

“No.” Wynn crossed her fingers, that way it wouldn’t really be a lie! Her Mom clicked her tongue but did not turn around. Yes, Wynn gained a few seconds! Silently she tugged back her left leg leaving no trace. Now just one more! Carefully, ever so carefully she inched her right. She was close almost home, when her sneakers streaked against the panel.

“Get feet your feet off that, right now!”

Wynn turned to her Mother smiling a little weakly.

“Sorry mom!”

“What if we had an accident? Your leg could get cut clean off. You are too reckless Wynn! You have to stop scaring me! I can’t handle it! I just can’t!”

The car started to slow down pulling off to the side. Wynn found herself fidgeting. She made a big mistake! Mom turned to her, black hair slipping out of a lazy pony tale. Her face was all scrunched up and her brown eye’s got huge and watery. Wynn wanted to look away.

“That terrified me. Seeing you laying there unresponsive…Wynn I can’t lose you baby, I just can’t. I am so glad your okay. I was so worried because Wynn we don’t have the money if something went wrong, if you needed some kind of treatment.”

“I just fell Mom.” Wynn said weakly.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s just you always take such risks. Your always running straight towards the trouble instead of away! Gosh your so young. Wynn you can’t just take on the world with only a grin and your softball bat. I need you to be smarter then that, baby.”

Wynn felt a lump in her throat. She couldn’t figure out what to say. For a moment they just stared at each other, unblinking. Then her Mom nodded and pulled her until a tight hug. Slowly she started the car, then pulled back on the road.

Wynn closed her eyes.

It was just a freak accident. Her Mom needed to clam down. Wynn had just fallen. She was okay. The doctors even said so! It was just a fall. A normal fall. Those pictures she saw meant nothing. It was nothing. She wouldn’t fall anymore. It wouldn’t happen again.

Instinctually, Wynn crossed her fingers.

A week ago, when Wynn hit the pavement and caused this whole mess, something odd happened. As much as she liked to lie to herself that wasn’t nothing.

At first when she fell everything was just black. A consuming nothingness. Then things got weird. Splashes of colors, green, silver and red shoot forth in blobs and streaks. Next there was sounds! A women laughing hard and haughty, the screams of a newborn, an old men’s wheezing tears. Then like fast forwarded frames in a movie, pictures speed by. Wynn could only pick up bits and pieces of misplaced conversion.

“Samantha darlin’ no!”

“I can’t believe the Bears won!”

“He is my son.”

“I will kill you all, of-“

“Your eyes sparkle like a oce-“

Then it all sort of stopped and paused on one scene.

Wynn could see herself standing on the browning grass in her backyard. In slow motion, an old mangled black cat, hopped of the oak near her rusted shed. Wynn watched herself try to back away but she slipped hitting the ground. It looked hard. The cat slowly raised a paw to Wynn’s nose. The movement cold and possessive. The cats green eye’s were hard.

What happened next was even weirder! Wynn saw something crawling underneath her, speckles of brown, yellow, and red protectively pooling around her feet. Cockroaches! They swarmed around her, one daring to crawl up the legs of her pants. He was huge, the size of her first! His voice high and fast squeaked out telling her to run and flee! The Wynn there was shaking her head. The cockroaches pushed against the cat and give her roam to escape.

Wynn never found out if she ran or not.

The next thing she saw was a crowd of concerned nurses buzzing around her. She heard the faint beeping of a heart monitor and her Mom sort of gasped and latched on to her hand.

Everyone kept asking her the same question over and over. “Are you okay?” Wynn kept saying yes, but the truth was she want sure. Whatever happened there wasn’t normal. It felt important, nessasry, and drastic.

The truth was, Wynn was scared. She didn’t know what any of this meant and she wasn’t sure what she should do next.

“Wynn baby, we have to stop by the mailbox on they way home okay?”

“Oh sure.”

As her Mom looked away Wynn just kind of sighed. Things were getting a lot harder.

Having been chosen as the One several hours ago, after his predecessor, who was tracking a prospective Mage, was killed. One recalled the death of all of his predecessors, which was the method by which the Swarm reckoned time and the newly raised One was able to know where things had been before their tenure.

Death was such a common occurrence for the Swarm that the method of death was never important, so long as the deceased We was furthering the welfare of the Swarm. At times it was necessary for some of the We to sacrifice themselves so that the rest could get to safety.

That being said, the One was only to sacrifice themselves in a time of great need. Most of the deaths of the prior Ones had been the result of such a sacrifice of great need, but the current One knew that his predecessor had been careless. One would not make the same mistake. In addition to its recollection of the prior Ones’ actions, One also recalled its own actions as part of the We.

His purpose was, with several others to view the proceedings in the museum from one of the light fixtures immediately above the speaker’s head. He did not see the Swarm’s prospective Mage (whose image had been transmitted from the One to the We) in the audience of the lecture, though he and the other members had seen many with the spark of the Magi in attendance, including the speaker.

One’s predecessor had died not long after the lecture was completed. And One had been raised immediately thereafter. As all of the We understood, being raised as the One was a great honor. One had just not expected it to be so painful and so disorienting. He grew to 10 times his normal size in a matter of minutes and he was no longer a mere piece of the We and its collective consciousness. He was separate, though he could still communicate with it.

One took just a few (several hundred) of the We and went the the place of his predecessor’s death to pick up the prospective Mage’s aura, which was in the Hospital across the street from the Museum. Before going in though, One caught the scent of the Mage’s aura heading toward the parking lot. One sent 50 or so of the We to follow the car to its destination, many made the ultimate sacrifice for the welfare of the Swarm, so One was able to know where the car stopped.

When One arrived at the home, he smelled the presence of another Pythonicus waiting to make a claim on the Mage. One took the We’s that were left and prepared to defend the Swarm’s claim.

“Wynn, I am going to put the mail inside. Sort it after you put your softball stuff in the back.” Wynn’s Mom said.

“You just left my stuff in the car the whole time I was in the hospital?”

Her Mom glared “That was a stressful time! Just put it by the shed.”

Wynn felt her heartbeat rise. “The shed?”

“Yes, baby and be sure not to run. The doctor’s want you resting!”

Wynn looked over at the shed, eyes wide. It looked totally normal, no scary cats or giant cockroaches. Just a few swaying trees and a falling apart shed. Wynn kept telling herself she was being silly and the pictures she saw meant nothing. Still Wynn couldn’t shake the sinking suspicion that something was about to happen.

With a nervous giggle, Wynn pulled open the screen door…

When the mage came into the backyard, One was ready. The We were all doing what they do best, obeying his instructions. In this case hiding, which is the thing they do second best. With his troops arrayed, One surveyed the battlefield. He could still smell the odor of the other Pythonicus, but did not know what it was yet. While the cat in the tree near the shed was being very catlike, One had a suspicion that was it. His suspicion was proven correct when the cat leaped from the tree after the mage had turned toward the shed.

One took a good look at the mage. He thought it must be a human child, though he was not positive. Human children looked so similar to the adults, no larval state to show that they were still not fully grown. It was quite confusing. Nevertheless, he knew this was the mage that the Swarm had chosen.

The child Mage started to back up, as she was startled by the cat’s sudden appearance. Humans were such a dominant species that they often missed important details like their surroundings. He would have to teach the child, if it was going to be able to survive long enough to be of any use to the Swarm, including the child itself.

He commanded the We to come out of hiding and stop the cat. Then the child stumbled and several of the We were crushed under the cat’s paws. One knew he had to do something, so he too came out of hiding. A good general should be where he can best oversee and command a battle, but One was more than a general. He was the hero of the Swarm!

The cat swatted the child Mage on the nose, and its odor became clear to One, it was satisfaction and possessiveness, interlaced with something even more sinister, perhaps even evil. That would not do.

One commanded the We the push the cat back, while One ran up its legs and yelled at the top of his lungs to the child to run, so she would be able to escape the influence of this sinister creature.

The child just stood there shaking her head, the child’s odor was one of disbelief. The cat started hissing and killing more of the We. One jumped down and joined the We in attacking the Pythonicus.

“You cannot have this child for your nefarious purposes, cat. We will not allow it.”

Not deigning to respond, the cat just continued to swat and crush the We until none were left but One, though One could hear the cat’s heartbeat and breathing were labored. One leaped for the cat’s back, but, as One was still not used to how to use his larger body, the cat easily swatted him out of the air and began pushing down on his throat, with a pleased smile.

One also allowed his mandibles to spread in pleasure, because several thousand more We were swarming over and through the fence. The cat heard the skittering and clicking of the We behind it and flipped around, releasing One’s throat.

When the cat saw the horde of cockroaches, its odor became one of fear and disgust and it began to flee. One order a thousand of the We to continue pursuit while the rest gathered around One and raised him up to the child’s eye level.

One yelled, “I am sorry Mage, are you hurt?”

The child shook her head. She still smelled nervous, but not as nervous as she had before. “I am called One, I am the representative of the Swarm. We hope to be able to help you to achieve your potential and hopefully you and we can accomplish some great good together for the mutual welfare of both of our peoples. What are you called?”

“My name? it’s Wynn and I-I’ve seen this before. Well the pictures cut out after you said to run but I knew this would happen and then it did.” Wynn’s voice went soft, and she started to pace around the yard. “Do you think that will happen again? The future stuff. Because my Mom will kill me if it happens again! And you, your a cockroach! My Mother hates bugs! Personally I think their wicked sweet. Like your really cool, a lot better then the demon cat thing.”

Wynn picked up her bat little slugger and started to swing it wildly. “I missed this. The stupid doctor’s wouldn’t let me do anything!”

She turned consideringly to One “So am I like a super hero now? Because I don’t have any clue, what’s going on. Only that I can see the future and it’s really freaky, and now I know talking cockroaches. So yeah, that feels pretty superhero-y. “

“Wynn are you playing outside? You know what the doctors said!” Her Mom shouted.

“No. I was sitting by the oak. It’s a nice day Mom!” Wynn crossed her finger.

“Uh huh. The mail ain’t going to sort itself you know.

“Ugh, fine I am coming.” Wynn shouted “Lay low, One. I will be back. My Mom can’t know anything about you! She’d probably call the exterminators.”

“Wynn, inside now!” Her mom called.

“I better go. Bye One! Oh my gosh, my best fiend Sandy is terrified of cockroaches! Oh I can’t wait for you to meet her. She will go ballistic. I mean if this isn’t all a really long dream.”

Slamming the screen door shut, Wynn raced to the counter. Her heart hadn’t really stoped pounding. It slowed a bit sure but still things were really weird. Wynn knew at some point she would have to deal with all of…that. Right now though her Mom would freak if she didn’t help.

Wynn hated sorting the mail. It was monotonous and boring and Wynn had to just stand still forever. Besides all there ever was was bills, bills, advertisements and coupons, then more bills. Wynn hated bills. They made her Mom stressed, took away from the softball fund and put a limit on her texting privileges. Still sorting the mail was better then fighting against magical talking animals.As Wynn pulled up the last in the stack, the gold trim caught her eye. It looked like this would be a fancy bill.

As she pulled it up, her eyes narrowed. The letter was addressed to her. People don’t write to Wynn. That was not something that happened. Nowadays there were cellphones and Facebook and if her friends wanted to talk to her they’d see each other at school. Wynn didn’t just get letters.

Something was off here.

Wynn glanced quickly around. Her Mom was taking a call in the other room, her face going red as she shouted. Oh, yeah she was so not paying attention. With, a smirk Wynn stuck the letter her back pocket. This would take some investigating.

When the young Mage, Wynn, started talking, it was like a sewer drain in a rainstorm, where the water never stopped bubbling. Before One could answer Wynn’s questions or formally welcome the child into the Swarm, the mother called from inside talking about the male. Perhaps the child was a female of her species. But why one would need to sort the other gender of the species was beyond One. Knowledge of the human social structure and life cycle was outside the scope of both the Ones’ and the We’s memories and experiences. In reality, if it did not have to do with food or shelter, he did not have much to draw on, as previous Swarm-Mage partnerships had been short lived. One would perhaps have to ask Wynn later. Apparently she was not the only one with much to learn.

As One was contemplating the unexpected difficulty of interacting with a child Mage, One fell off the milling tower of the We, though they did catch him before he hit the ground and turned him back right side up. Wow! It appeared that One would have to officially welcome Wynn to the Swarm later. One commanded the We to follow him to his destination. Who knew what kind of backup he would need when he got there.

She is waiting.

Tobias wasn’t sure how to even start telling his parents. This was too new, and way too weird. So he started off like normal, seeing them off to work. He was 16 and they trusted him to fend for himself and run the house in their absence. They had always made him feel useful, even when he’d been in the wheelchair. Just a normal day.

He practiced the rest of the morning, in between the crockpot roast and homeschool work and reading up on shapeshifting. He fed the cats, noticed in passing that one was missing again. Not for the first time, so he didn’t worry.

Coil off, proteus Tobias; coil on, normal guy Tobias. It was all he could think about changing into. It was why he always played a normal human in his games. There were all the alien or fantasy specie he could want, but to him, nothing was more exotic, than utter human ordinariness.

That afternoon, he went outside, alone. The hood lay against his back, unneeded, the long coat freeing in its unaccustomed looseness. He strode into the alien world that was his own hometown.

A world more dangerous than any virtual world he’d been in. At home, he could turn off the computer, close the book.

“Hey guys, leave him alone, ok?”

The petty bullies acted as if their behavior was normal, just an after-school lark. Playing with their prey like the cats did back home. They ignored him, obviously kings of their world.

“I said stop!”

Tobias couldn’t stand by and watch the harassment. He stepped forward to do the right thing, when a strange queasy feeling slithered down him.

… Wait… I’m still wearing the coil, how can I be changing?…

A time limit thing, or something else? He watched in dread as his hands changed. His face settled in the familiar wrongness, his back twisted, his legs grew heavy as he stumbled forward. His own image of what he was, filled his mind.

The same boys who a moment before had been ignoring the non-threat, stopped, their eyes wide, seeing the real him for the first time.

Tobias belatedly realized how much a beat down would set his physical therapy back years. Maybe send him back into the hated wheelchair, for good. But he stood his ground, his face hot and eyes gone poison. He couldn’t find it in him to back down. Not online, not here. Even as part of him was yelling, ‘stupid, stupid!’

“Aww, sh—! Is that the freak kid? Nothing’s worth looking at that!” Their erstwhile plaything bolted. Away from him. Not what the would-be hero had hoped for. The bullies backstepped, but not from something terrifying, which would have satisfied his anger. Like scraping their feet from a pile of dog turd they’d just stepped in.

Tobias wished they’d beaten him instead. It would have made him feel human, anyway. He could still hear them, laughing, calling to each other, as they jogged off.

“Damn! But hey, I owe Gamgee a post in Elysium, anyway.”
“I need to see if he accepted my character yet. Wait til I tell him what we saw!”

Tobias didn’t think it could have gotten worse. They played in Elysium Warriors Online. Where he was a mod. And he was Gamgee.

Walk it off. That’s what they said when you were injured, right? So he did, hood up and coat closed, shrouded, at least, from others’ eyes, the coil in his pocket.

At home, he buried himself in routine. Spent time in front of the icon corner. He’d made his peace with God, more or less, over his condition. Right now it was less. Then in the kitchen to make salad, to go with the crockpot roast almost ready.

He didn’t tell them anything at dinner. He didn’t want them to worry. They’d done so much already. Why make their life harder than he already had? He excused himself, and went to his room, and got on the computer. Raced thru a week’s worth of homeschool stuff. Anything to keep his mind off today. A hug goodnight, as his parents went to bed, really helped.

Then, Elysium. He shouldn’t keep his admin in the dark.
Gamgee7
@Gandalf1715: hey. I need to take a leave of absence. @Pippin25 can take my characters and threads. He has all my notes. And tell Janus22 his character’s accepted.
Gandalf1715
@gamgee7: aw man not again. Hate losing my best mod. but you’ll be back in a couple weeks, right? And thanks. Janus has been a real pill about it. How do you even stand him? Your the only one who can talk him down off his high ‘arse. Heh.

…yeah. Two-faced little-…

He bit off the expletive. If he couldn’t be what he wanted on the outside, at least he could be what he wanted on the inside. A gentleman and a scholar.

The PM popped up. Janus. Bugging him again. He knew better than to read it, this time. Went to the homepage, to scan for new posts. The OOC What’s New! section nearly made him throw up. His picture was there. And description in all it’s lurid glory.

He was torn, between telling himself, how could they have known? and impotent fury that anyone could talk about another person that way, or God, put up a pic! He deleted the post and pic with a vague warning about privacy, and signed off Elysium. But he was shaking again. Went to the bathroom, to console himself with the coil’s magic.

What appeared, was a vision out of nightmare, his own nightmares. Triggered badly by the nasty post, his mind was filled with images of how bad his progressive disease could get. That was what the mirror showed him. He stifled a scream in malformed hands. He couldn’t wake his parents, he couldn’t let them see this!

And there was no one here to help.

Tobias couldn’t remove the coil. He was panicking, could barely breathe. He choked on a weird thready laugh, and stifled it. He tried to get on the computer. “Fat fingers” had never been less of a joke.

“Computer…Skype Voice Grendel…Text transcription and translation on. ” The script opened a private channel, to the only one he did voice chat with. He could only hope. The delay didn’t help…Green dot! Online!

Almost immediately, the Ukrainian voice filled the room with cheery warmth that eased the panic. Speaking English, mostly. Good. He needed to hear words he could understand, right now.

“ Slava Issu Christu, Gamgee! Didn’t expect you so early. Caught me before work. Good t’ing, won’t have net next 10 hours at least. How doin?”

“Help…scared!”

The voice at the other end dropped the cheer for the calm of an emergency professional. “You home? You hurt? 911, now.”

“911 can’t help. Not hurt…I think…I…did a thing…can’t tell them!”

“Breathe. Relax. Then tell. Work can wait. With you.”

“I can… I can change! But it’s bad this time. I …look…like Merrick, but worse! Help!”

Quiet. The voice came back quiet. “Change?”

“Yes!” Tobias wheezed. “Help me stop it!”

“Calm down. I can’t. But you can. Find somet’ing to focus on. Somet’ing good.”

“Just…talk to me.”

“Sure t’ing. But not enough. Can’t always be on. Somet’ing near you. No, better. Somet’ing in your head you can see. Favorite t’ing. T’at way, can’t lose it. Focus.”

“Starry…sky.”

“Good! Keep it. Breathe it. See it…..Workin’?”

Starry sky. Tiny multicolored magic on velvet depth. He didn’t even need the outdoors to feel that cool air of night. Didn’t need the telescope to dive into it, to pretend he was flying by Jupiter, the Milky Way close enough to touch. Dark beauty enveloped him. He breathed-in the cosmos. No shapes, no beings, no images to form. Just stars.

It worked. His left arm and hand were back to normal, almost normal for a normal guy. Enough to type anyway. He unwound the coil with his biffed hand, which worked again, barely. The process accelerated, til he felt himself again.

“Gamgee? Hokay? Don’ leave me inna dark. Gamgee?”

“A lot better. Normal now. Thanks, Grendel.”

He started to laugh at the word normal. A relieved laugh, not the crazy one he was afraid of before. His friend joined in, and he could hear relief shared. Suddenly realized how scared they both had been. And just how abjectly grateful he was for the form he had.

“It’s Serhey”. The transcription rendered it Sergei. “You can use.”
“Tobias.”
“So…Tobias…you have found a…gift?”
“Yeah. And the weird thing? It can make me look like…like me without Proteus. At least, it did, before this.”

A long low whistle. “T’at…is precious thing. Miracle. Glad for you.” A wistfulness there. “Would give arm and leg and half my head for t’at”. Then Grendel laughed heartily. Tobias laughed again too, knowing that only half of his friend’s body was affected. Proteus was wildly different for all who had it, and they laughed often, especially when the only alternative was despair. The next words were serious. “Tell parents. T’ey will understand. You need someone near, to help. Not half world away.”

“ Grendel…Sergei…how do you know? That they will, I mean.”

“Easy. Mine did. When I got my gift, long ago. Not one good as yours, but…we will talk, Tobias. Later. Z’Bohom.”

Go with God. His goodbye. Grendel’s indicator went from here to away.

Tobias sat in the computer chair, lightheaded from effort. How could he tell them?

How could he not tell them?

He was out the bedroom door, before he could change his mind. Passed the living room on his way upstairs and stopped.

“Mom? Dad?”

“Son.” His father gestured to the stuffed chair next to the sofa where they sat, with his ‘we have to talk’ look.

“ You were really upset at dinner”, his mother started.

Had it shown that much? “But you didn’t say anything…” he trailed off.

His father was calm but firm. “We knew that you’d tell us when you were ready. You weren’t home this afternoon. Don’t look so surprised. The same app that tells you where we are, tells us where you are. We knew it had to be important. We trust you. But trust goes both ways, son.”

“We heard you making noise down here, and well…you weren’t using headphones, and”, his mother smiled reassurance at her son’s sudden stricken look. “you weren’t exactly using your indoor voices. Tobias, your friend is right. Would you show us?”

He was toying with the coil, anyway. And since they knew, he stood and slipped it on. He’d been fantasizing about this all day - just with no idea how or when.

“Mom”, he said, past a lump in his throat, “don’t cry.” She was hugging, then kissing him. His father looked impressed. The worst was over! His heart sang.

“Now, son. Show us what made you afraid.”

Shock. “No, Dad! No, please!!” But it was too late. He lost normal guy Tobias as his mind filled with monstrosity. He shifted back into his own shape, then further, his features sliding, his body twisting and swelling with tumors, til it couldn’t move. He sobbed, eyes shut, hating himself, hating what he’d see if he looked at them.

His father’s voice. “No matter how bad it gets, you can rise above it. Face it.” Tobias had heard that all his life. Felt his mother’s, his father’s arms around him, no different from what he had always felt. Opened his eyes to nothing but love.

Better than starry sky.

-—

The morning was surreal in its normalcy. He hugged his parents goodbye. It felt the same but different. Love, pride, hope, but more intense than before.

When the envelope came for him, there was no hesitation. Here were answers. And purpose.

He took what he needed, and left the house, into a world that he could be a part of.

The city park near the Chicago Museum was shrouded in a light fog and the night’s chill had begun to bite. Jake and Mindy were trying to enjoy their nightly stroll in spite of the change in weather.

“How did it get so cold, so fast?” Asked Mindy as she held to Jake’s arm for added warmth.

Jake did nothing to hide is smug smile at her expense. “It’s Chicago, babe. What do you expect?”

Jake eyed something in the fog as they walked.

Mindy followed his gaze, “What is-“

Jake shushed her and was quickly awarded a punch to the arm, “Don’t shush me, Jake.”

He flashed her another smug smile as he gestured to a small white creature in the mist, “I think that cat is drunk.”

From the thick of the mist, as if the cause of its origin was indeed a white cat. Seemingly disoriented and unsure of its footing in spite of having four legs.

“Leave it alone Jake. It might be sick.”

“Drunk you mean,” snickered Jake as he approached the feline.

Mindy pulled at his jacket, “Please Jake, leave it alone.”

He pulled away from her, “Here pussy, pussy, pussy.”

“Jake, let’s just go. Please.”

Jake dismissed her as the cat began to meow, “Can you believe this thing. It’s like it is trying to talk or something.”

Mindy watched as the cat continued to address them with meows that never seemed to repeat. The experience only added to her dread.

“Jake, we are leaving. We are leaving now.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

As white cat continued to meow a cat’s sermon, Jake waved his hands at the cat, “Go on, shoo. Get out of here. Go.”

The cat stopped its speech but continued to study them, measure them with his eyes.

Jake looked back at Mindy, “Can you believe this thing.” He moved closer.

“Please Jake, don’t.”

He brought his foot out to nudge the cat along but only gained a feline’s glare.

“You’re an arrogant fuck aren’t you.”

Mindy wanted to stop him but only watched as he went to push the cat with his foot. An act that awarded him a swipe of the cat’s paw.

“Fuck!”

Jake stumbled backward grasping his ankle, “The damn thing scratched me.”

Before Mindy could plead or intervene, Jake went to kick the defiant cat. Even as his foot came back, the feline still stood its ground without a twitch or a flinch.

Within the fraction of a breath, the cat’s eyes burned red, and the kick never found its mark. For Jake’s foot froze inches from the cat as his shoe turned to stone. Mindy gasped while Jake’s trousers, jacket, shirt and even his watch turned to stone. Trapped in petrified clothing, he turned his head to look at her in terror.

“Jake are you alright? Jake!”

She took his hand; even his old class ring had become stone. She was thankful he didn’t wear his Chicago Clubs hat, but that did not change the fact that Jake was turning white.

“Jake?”

She watched as his gasped in terror. She called out for help but the chill of the night seemed to have emptied the park for the evening. It was then that she noticed the mists were converging around them as the cat appear to roll his shoulders, again and again, somehow churning the fog. As the mists turned about, she could suddenly made out a set of wings upon the cat, wings like onto a falcon.

Jake gasped in desperation as he begun to turn blue. Mindy clawed at his petrified collar; pieces came free but the stoney prison held.

She turned to the cat, “This is your doing. Stop it, please.”

She watched in horror as the one head became two. Both feline heads wore a set of horns, and to her surprise, they spoke.

“What is done,” said the head on the right.

“Often can not be undone,” added the head of the left.

“Please,” called out Mindy in desperation.

“Break the tone,” said the head of the right as it stepped closer with the feet of a cock.

Mindy slammed her fist into the stone with little effect but her own pain.

“Tip the vase,” added the head of the left while swaying a tail of a serpent.

Mindy looked down; Jake was on one foot. She pushed against him with all of her weight and might. With a crack of stone, the bottom of his shoe broke free from the sidewalk and sent him toppling over. With a stoney crash, Jake’s torso was set free as his petrified jacket and shirt cracked and splinted from the impact. Jake gasped and fumbled like an upside-down crab for his arms and legs were still caught in stone castings. Seeing the color return to Jake’s face as he panted, Mindy reached for her phone.

“I’m calling the police.”

As her face was illuminated by the screen, the head on the right questioned, “What is this device you have?”

“What is this police you speak of,” added the head on the left.

“They are going to take care of you demon.”

“I am no demon,” said the two heads in an eerie unison.

Mindy screamed as her phone became a swarm of gray moths in her hand.

“Be still mortals,” said the head on the right.

“Answers you will give,” said the head on the left.

Mindy felt the pull of the thing’s gaze. “What are you?”

“Felid,” said the head on the right.

“Orthrus,” said the head on the left.

Just because he felt a pull to a destination didn’t mean that he didn’t pay attention around him. He wanted to practice ‘normal guy Tobias’, to solidify his hold on it til nothing, no distraction nor fear, no overwhelming thought, could shake it. It was who he was inside, it was what his heart wanted to show the world more than anything. It was him.

The glances he got in passing, the occasional giggle and casual talk that miraculously didn’t stop as he passed by people, filled his heart with joy. To just be normally ignored, instead of studiously and awkwardly not-seen, was a balm to a hurt he hadn’t realized how deep it was, til it wasn’t awakened at every step.

It put a lightness to his own step that was almost dancing. In fact he did dance, just a little bit, just for a moment, and he laughed, knowing that people were assuming that he was just wearing earbuds and grooving to the music like any kid. He had never danced before, but nowadays, any freeform two-step went without notice.

Without notice. What a beautiful feeling.

He heard a plaintive meowing, and caught a glimpse of a white cat up a tree. “Pappas? Oh, no wonder you were gone.” The tree was bent by the wind in places which made it look like an easy climb, for a guy. And he did, surprising himself, reveling in the unaccustomed use of muscles, lifting him higher than he had ever been. “Come on, little guy”. His reach wasn’t as long as he was used to, and he unconsciously adjusted higher. The lack of pain, that he always tensed up for in expectation, was almost disorienting. The cat allowed himself to be pried out of the fork of branches. Success!

He looked down. It wasn’t a big drop. Pappas could have made it on his own if he hadn’t been stuck. Tobias leapt, and felt as excited as if he had just nailed a jump at the Olympics. “Go on home now, kit!” The cat streaked off, not needing the reminder of a cat door and food and water beyond it.

His grin was infectious, he found. People smiled and waved back at him. He had to avoid giving himself whiplash when he noticed a girl’s eyes following him, and not with that look he knew too well. That felt so good.

A can bounced and rolled to his feet, and he looked around startled. Up ahead, another girl with a back pack and some kind of instrument case, fumbled with a plastic grocery bag that had split and tumbled its contents down the sidewalk’s slight incline towards him. He picked up the can of tomatoes, snagged an onion before it could bounce into the street, another can and random rolling things, and caught up with her.

“Oh, hey! Could you reach into the side pocket and get a bag? I have extra.”

He had no problem, as her pack was clear with mesh. He deftly one-handed the zipper while his other arm cradled the pile of fixings. His right arm could hold a lot, but it felt odd to not have more flesh to rest stuff on. He took two bags, and double-bagged them one-handed - he’d always been good at that - and dumped the pile in, cans first. Her hero in a dashing long black coat.

He couldn’t help noticing some of the contents of the pack. Greek Mythology, a Dean Koontz book - and a videogame. He blinked. What were the odds?

“You play Bloodborne?”

“Thanks for the help! And no, that’s for my brother. I can’t - oh, I play games, but - I don’t like to kill things. Those creatures are so sad. It’s not their fault, what happened to them -and I wish I could help them, and the game doesn’t let you. I like to explore and rescue things. Like in Myst! Or search and rescue stuff with helicopters. Or Infamous, or the Last of Us. I like to see if I can get away with it - not hurting anything, I mean. But books are my favorite. Except for writing - I’m sorry! I tend to gush.”

She adjusted her glassses. She must have noticed him staring at her. Was his mouth open? Did he look as stupid-happy as he felt? He struggled for words in a way he’d never had to before. He had to say something! “Oh go on. You…like Koontz? Who are your favorite characters? And what instrument do you play?”

He was talking. Talking to a girl. Face to face. This was less real than anything he had ever experienced online.

She laughed lightly. “ This isn’t an instrument, it’s a microscope teacher let me borrow overnight. Oh, and Odd. Who doesn’t like him, right? But you know who else? Thomas Vanadium, the cop from ‘From the Corner of His Eye’. Best. Hero. Ever.” Her brown eyes were bright behind her glasses

“Hey,” he finally got out, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Can I get your contact info? I want to talk more, but I got to go.”

“Are you ok?”

“Um, sure! But I’m going to be late. You know.”

“ Me too, got to make dinner. What’s your email?”
“Gamgee7@gmail”
“Oh, like Frodo’s friend!”

He wanted to stay, and bolt all at once. She looked hesitant too, as if hating to part from a kindred spirit. He knew that feel.

“One more thing. I know guys don’t like romances, but this one you’ve got to see. The Tin Box by Holly Kennedy? Tommy is wonderful.”

He nodded, and turned, and ran. He had almost shown her, and panicked. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, at the sight of a girl whose favorite hero was deformed. And who loved the only book in the world that treated seriously a romantic lead with Proteus. His disease.

Hope could hurt like hell, sometimes.

Magnus opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside and put away his stuff. He was about to warm up some water when he noticed something, something odd. On his desk there was a letter, one he hadn’t put there. It was neatly propped up against the small lamp he kept on his desk in case he needed more light. Somebody had been into his apartment, without leaving a mark. Yet it didn’t feel like someone had been in the apartment and his feelings usually held more truth than could reasonably be expected. He walked towards the desk and picked up the envelope, which had nothing on it, and carefully opened it.

Dear mage Verus,
Hereby you have been invited to attend a small gathering of likeminded individuals. After reading this letter you will know where to go and how to get there, we apologize for the slight inconvenience of this compulsion. Regardless of your circumstances we will make sure that you arrive on time. She is waiting.

The letter wasn’t signed but he instinctively knew that he was going, no matter the consequences. He looked up from the letter and suddenly realized that he had already put his coat back on and turned off the gas. He was out of the door before he thought twice of it. There was a place he needed to be, even though he didn’t know which one that was.

“Humans make less sense when I’m sober. How do they tell the difference between a ‘Documentary’ and ‘Entertainment?’ How was I supposed to know the guy with dark hair running around in blue and red tights couldn’t REALLY fly? I guess seeing him crawling around in the ducts of a building was the giveaway. And then those OTHER humans in ANOTHER show, I’m pretty sure they’re real people and not actors, not that actors aren’t real, but, well, I know what I mean. They proved the magnets the flying-guy-who-couldn’t-fly-in-that-role would never have been able to use those magnets to get around inside a ventilation shaft.”

Ventilation shafts bugged Earnest in general, but right now they were pissing him off. The night before he’d been watching human “television” through windows and the human who collected lighting as he walked had reminded him of it. Sewers and ventilation shafts featured heavily as secret ways to get around. It was stupid of course. Sewers, and he’d been through a few, rarely had anything even remotely like the vast open hallways that the Giles guy wandered through when fighting those pointy toothed humans who died in the sunlight. Earnest had a certain empathy for the humans with pointy teeth who died in the sunlight., He FELT like he was dying in the sunlight. He was about 90% sure Giles and the pointy toothed humans were fake, which was sad, as Giles seemed like a cool human to work with, even if it was better, by and large, that the pointy toothed humans were probably fake.

Probably..

Ducts. Ventilation shafts. Why the HELL do humans keep acting like they can crawl through these things and get around a building? Did they like pretending their fiction characters had some sort of supernatural positioning sense that only worked when surrounded by thin sheet metal that didn’t have enough METAL to it for a magnet to support their weight? What an incredibly specific and situational power. Heat vision and flight made far more sense.

Earnest had to prove this stupidity, if only to himself. The human who collected captured lighting as he walked would have to wait, or join in. Earnest ambled over on three legs, the fourth needed to carry the nip bottle of rum. He walked up to the human, balanced precariously on two legs and held out the bottle of rum.

“SSS! FSSST! HISSSS!” he said in his best impression of how a human would say, “Hold my drink!” He held out the nip bottle.

Clearly, the human who kept getting lighting sacrifices from all around got the message, because he took the nip bottle. Earnest was slightly impressed, and a bit disappointed, that the lightning the human was collecting didn’t blow it up.

Unencumbered by bottles, but enjoying the result of their contents, Earnest ambled back to the museum, the human, to Earnest’s satisfaction, following.

“Good. There will be a witness to my experiment.”

Upon reaching the museum, Earnest looked up and saw the covered opening of a ventilation shaft with a bit of the roof’s edge in front of it.

“Perfect,” Earnest said, the word coming out as “Sssersssesssffff!”

He climbed a drainpipe and walked across the roof to the opening of the ventilation shaft. He looked back down at the human. He was standing there, holding the bottle of rum. Earnest nodded, then turned to the ventilation shaft. The body he had was incapable of wrenching the damn thing open on its own without taking far longer than this experiment deserved. A bit of the old power was needed here.

“SSSSFSSST! Hissss!” and then Earnest spat at the vent that covered the opening of the shaft. The aluminum sparked and fizzled a bit where his spit hit it, then retreated back, reversing the electric plating that had been used to precipitate it from solution. That was the nice thing about aluminum. A bit of spark reversal and it crumbled. Earnest said a quick blessing for the people who’d produced the “How it’s Made” episode that had taught him that lighting, of all things, was used in aluminum processing. Television was a wonderful thing, when it wasn’t pissing him off.

Thinking of being pissed off at television, Earnest looked back at the human. He realized the dissolving aluminum grating covering the ventilation shaft was visible from the ground. Earnest stood up on his two back legs and tried to gesture for the human to follow him. He misjudged the ledge, or how much alcohol had been needed to make the daylight tolerable, possibly both, and he tumbled into the now open ventilation shaft with a loud clatter and crash.

When he landed he looked up and nodded with grim satisfaction. There was NO way a human would fit IN this shaft and still be able to move. It was barely wide enough to bury a human, let alone let one move around. Unfortunately, the incline was too steep and too covered in slimy, damp dust for Ernest to get out that way.

Perfect. Time to test the other part of this stupid human convention. How well CAN you get around in these things?

Earnest was not surprised that the real ventilation shafts lacked the gentle, consistent lighting of television. They were crapmed and dark, perfect for an opossum with a few extra bits of sensory apparatus beyond the native opossums, but not navigable by humans. It was with more satisfaction that Earnest realized he was now totally and completely lost, with no idea what floor he was on or if he was even above or below ground.

“I’m completely lost!” he said. Then, with a grim sense of horror he realized both that he was starting to sober up, and that being completely and totally lost, while great for proving his point, was terrible for long term survival. Earnest resolved to break through the next vent he encountered. They happened pretty regularly, as a ventilation shaft that did not VENT into the building would be pretty damn useless.

The noise. This was a LOUD way to travel. All that sneaking around on television was nonsense. Earnest was sure half the building knew where he was. Suddenly, he slipped and began to slide uncontrollably down a steep shaft. “CRAP!” he thought, as he hurtled and ricocheted off the walls of the shaft. He scrambled for something to grab onto, but his claws skittered helplessly over the smooth metal. He careened down and landed rump first into a vent, which was then popped out of its housing by the impact of hs opossum rear. Earnest flew into the room, sailing through the air, landing hard on a carpeted floor. Earnest rose onto all four and looked around. The room was full of statues, but one of the statutes was NOT really a statue, it was very much alive, just standing still and disguised. A blend of human and animal, it stood statuesque. Earnest looked up at this new figure. Magic, in a very raw form, flowed both into and out of the figure’s orifices and eyes.

Earnest rose onto his two hind legs. He was either still dazed from his landing or still drunk from the Apple Jack, because he promptly fell over. He struggled back onto all fours, looked up at this new figure and said, “Well, with THAT much magic coming out of your ass, You’ve got to be an oracle or a politician. If you can understand what I just said, you’re not a politician.”

Earnest noted with annoyance that he had just inadvertently proven one of the human entertainment conceits that had annoyed him. He’d apparently fallen out of the ventilation system in the one and only spot in the entire museum that had anything of interest for him. Oh well, 90% right is better than most alternatives. He looked up and waited to see if the being before him was an oracle, or just a really stationary politician.

Earnest added, “I’m sobering up and it’s still light out, got anything to drink? I’d hate to go out sober.”