Julius woke up, and felt great. Really he felt a little stiff from sleeping on the ground, but compared to how he had felt sleeping it was fantastic. Already his mind was shunting away the memories of the dream, repressing it into a tight little ball. He was looking forward to getting to Clarksburg. It had been almost three months since he had been there, and Philip would be waiting eagerly for his package. Julius had already sold the trade route in this area to a nice fellow, and had moved on to new frontiers. Every few months he had to make a special trip to restock Philip. Julius made some oatmeal with the coals of the nights fire, and hitched up the horses. Alex woke with the noise, and yawned sitting up. “Did you have a weird dream last night?” He asked.

  “Maybe,” Julius replied.

  “I was in a black void, and this white light came up and said 'With madness comes power.' I could swear I'd heard that somewhere.”

  “I had something similar,” Julius admitted. “It was that one telekinetic guy from Crikside said when he caught the bullets.”

  Alex got serious. “Do you think something is trying to get us?”

  “Maybe, it was trying to get me to accept it. I think that's what happened to the guy.”

  “I've heard being cursed has positives and negatives. You can discern domains and glamours more easily, but it leaves you vulnerable to possession.”

  “Great, so now I can't even let my guard down when I sleep,” Julius complained. “We will see what happens tonight, maybe it won't happen all the time.”

  “Do you know if there is anyone with some mojo in Clarksburg? They might know more?” Alex asked.

  “I don't think so,” Julius answered.

  Alex crossed him arms, looking disappointed. “Did you just lie to me Julius? All I heard was static.”

  “This is going to get really annoying. I mean, if I can't lie how am I supposed to talk to you?”

  “Fine, keep your secrets,” Alex replied, sensing he wouldn't get the truth.

  They headed out, and by late afternoon they could see the town. Someone rode out on a motorcycle to meet them, and pulled up in front of the cart. The woman had two pistols on her hips, and a shotgun on the motorcycle. She approached casually, taking off her helmet. “Julius, good to see you.” Julius recognized her as the sheriff of Clarksburg, Rebecca, and hopped off the cart. She hugged him, and eyed Alex.

  "That's my brother Alex. You two should get along.”

  “If you vouch for him he can keep his weapons in town. I'm glad you're around. Peter does a good job moving stuff, but he doesn't have the knack for tracking down things like you. About that you wouldn't happen to have anymore...”

  “I brought my last one, just for you.” Julius reached under the cart seat, and pulled out a hand grenade. “Here as a gift.”

  “You told me you were out of those,” Alex reproached.

  “I was out of ones for you to mooch, Alex. I have a few to give to friends.”

  “Nothing kills shit like one,” Alex and Rebecca said, nearly simultaneously, but with very different tones.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “See I knew you would get along. Alex why don't you ride back into town with Rebecca, she can show you around. I'll see this gets unloaded.”

  Alex and Rebecca exchanged looks, and she gestured for him to come with. They rode off, and Julius headed towards the trading post. It had been a supermarket, but Julius had remodeled it into a trading post when he first came to town. Townsfolk could trade supplies around in it, and he had helped set up a local to manage it. Peter met him out front, and soon had people unloading the sacks of rice. Peter also paid Julius his cut from the profits. He had sold the trade route to him for a five percent cut of all the profits, and it was a regular source of income. As the bags were removed they reveled a plain wooden box. Julius stopped them from touching it. “Hold up, that has some gifts I got for Philip. I'll bring it to him myself. He still lives in that house on fifth street right?” Peter nodded, and after the rest of the rice was unloaded Julius set off on with the cart. The box was too heavy to carry far by hand.

  He knocked on the door to Philip's house, and waited holding the box. The only unusual thing someone would notice about it, was that it was slightly warm to the touch. The door opened, and Philip was there looking largely unchanged. He still had a black eyepatch covering his right eye, and a generally intense vibe. It all seemed out of place with his casual t-shirt and sweatpants.

  He took the box from Julius. “Thank goodness, I've been stalled for days without it. Come in, I could use someone to talk to. I've been shut up in the basement for weeks working, and I'm close. I might be able to do it now.” Julius followed him inside the ostensibly normal house. When they came to the basement, it seemed odd that there was several additional locks on the door. Philip opened it up, and Julius followed in. He wasn't too concerned, he had been down in Philip's lab before.

  The brick walls of the basement were covered in strange symbols, and the room was lit by a blood red light. The light emanated from a portal that hung flickering in the center of the basement. Philip put the box on a table, and opened it up. “Forty liters of virgin blood as ordered,” Julius said a little proud. It had not been easy to source that much in the weeks before setting out on the road. Several orphanages had received gifts of food and clothing, in exchange for blood.

  “I have the three mummified demon hearts prepared as payment don't worry.” He pointed to a paper bag sitting innocently on the table.

  “And I get to keep the box,” Julius reminded. Philip had made it, and it was a kind of magic refrigerator.

  “Yes, yes, it's of no matter. But I have a question, I sense something off with you. Have you finally been cursed?”

  “I was hoping to ask about that. We had a run in with a hospitality demon yesterday, and it cursed us.”

  “Ah, you are supposed to give some food or water, and it moves on. They say the only way to kill them is to feed them till they explode.”

  “I'll keep that in mind. Anyways, last night I had a terrible dream. I think something was trying to possess me.”

  “Quite likely. You are like a newborn now, in the eyes of the eldritch.”

  “So will it keep happening?” Julius asked worried.

  “Your soul will create defenses against them. It is something like a disease, after you have it your body learns how to fight it automatically. I may be able to work some sort of inoculation up to help you avoid having to face most directly. But not now, not when I am so close.” Philip began working, and removed his eyepatch.

  It still freaked Julius out seeing what was underneath it. He couldn't see it well from this angle, but he knew dozens of tiny snakes lived in the socket. Philip held the bag up, and tiny heads shot out, sinking their mouths into the plastic bag. Philip had explained he wasn't doing anything nefarious with the blood, and Julius believed him. After all he had been with them at the start. He hadn't killed him then, alone in the corn field. “I have discovered the key,” Philip said, almost to himself. “The way to remember what happened in that first week, the lost week. Have you ever heard of state dependent memory Julius?”

  “Sure, when you can only remember something under certain circumstances.”

  “That is what I'm trying to achieve. You see magic is like radiation.”

  “Stop right there Philip!” Julius interrupted, the vein on his temple starting to throb. “I do not want to hear another simile about what magic is. I have had magic explained to me by three cult leaders, a wizard, and a cannibal. I've heard that magic is like a rainbow, all its parts blending together. The human unconsciousness, powerful and unknowable. A body, you don't want to eat the heart straight away. I am sick and tired of people telling me what magic is. I know damn well what it is.” He drew a breath, interrupting his rant.

  “Magic is a bad joke. A whole lot of setup, for some nonsense punchline. This whole god-damned apocalypse is an eldritch comedy.” Julius panted a little tired.

  “Are you finished?” Philip asked coolly. Julius nodded, and he continued. “I know somehow I was covered in blood, but that alone is not enough. The trigger must happen when exposed to sufficient amounts of eldritch energy. That is why I have been creating a portal to the heart of Aletheia, the being of truth. Ideal conditions for it.”

  “So you're planning on remembering the lost week?” Julius asked.

  “I have to, we both know that we have something to do with it all. Charles accessed the Golden Bridge and for some reason we were with him. You remember the knife Alex had, that Charles used for the binding spell?”

  “Sure.”

  “It had to have had some serious magic to power the spell, demon bone most likely. Everyone lost their memory due to Cthulhu's nuking. It was his response to pain. So why did we wake up from that state, and where did Cthulhu go? How are we wrapped up in it? If I can, I have to find out.”

  Julius knew he was right. They had a duty to try and help fix the world, after all they lived in it. Besides if it all got sorted out by him, Julius thought he had a shot at president of North America. “Damn you're right. What can I do to help?”