Regis Holston considered the last twenty-four hours a complete shitshow. He had buried one of his youngest sons, a wonderful man full of light and potential. He’d dealt with two uncooperative women, one who barely said a word to them even when questioned and the other who had almost forced them to restrain her when she was told that she couldn’t watch over her son. Then, the son in question whose body resembled a lump of meat more than a person had started muttering a bunch of mumbo jumbo despite his shredded lungs.
Regis hadn’t understood a lick of what had been said but Morgana, his beautiful well-spring of knowledge, had recognized some of the words from one of her grimoires. The problem was the grimoire in question was fucking ancient, as in faded squiggles on animal skin, only barely held together by preservation enchantments that had to be refreshed every few years or the book would turn to dust at a touch. His wife had supposedly gotten it from her time spent in the Middle East with her master back when she was just an apprentice. According to her, the grimoire was written in cuneiform, the written language of Sumer, which predated Jesus.
Fucking hell.
And as if that wasn’t enough, Morgana’s magic had healed Eric far better than expected but during the process, she had accidentally brushed up against the connection to his soul and the touch had nearly sent her into shock.
“I’ve never felt a presence that powerful, not even my master or the Maximum Magus.”
Those had been her exact words: her, an Archdruid, and the Keeper of a Ley Line Node. Without Morgana, there would be no Holsburg, just a bunch of dead people and empty land in the wake of the Shadow’s Passing. Yet, that woman had nearly been overwhelmed by a brush with Eric’s soul.
The last time he’d visited, Jonathan had informed them of Eric’s condition. The boy was supposed to be weak, barely responsive on his best days. Archmage Blackthorn herself had even told her daughter that Eric’s life force was feeble. In no world, would Regis believe that child and the boy who had shaken his wife were the same.
So, the question became: who or what was Eric Blackthorn?
They had chosen to be direct with him, mostly because Morgana’s brush with Eric’s soul had revealed another presence, specifically Mother Gaia’s. If anyone could recognize Her presence, it would be a Keeper, druids who protected and channeled the power of ley lines. Unfortunately, they could never have imagined the answer that coming straight out and asking would yield.
Regis pulled a stool out from under the bar top and went behind the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey. Morgana sat down on the stool while he poured a pair of shots for them. As soon as he finished, the weary sheriff downed his, immediately pouring another.
Morgana stared silently at her drink leaving Regis to break the silence.
“He looks just like Jon,” the large man said after downing his second shot. He took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t be able to pick him out from one of our family photos but… One word from him and the illusion shatters. This is all so…”
“Unbelievable,” Morgana said after emptying her shot glass. Regis nodded, a slight scowl on his lips and the furrows of contemplation on his brow. They shared a long moment of silence. Regis swore that the older they got, the fewer small things needed to be said. Eventually, though, she continued, “Still, many of the things he said make sense.”
“What do you mean?” Regis asked. Much of Eric’s, or Ebēru’s, story went over the shifter leader’s head. He had received a decent education years before the Shadow’s Passing but his knowledge of ancient history and the occult had always been limited despite his father’s teaching about shifter history and Mother Gaia’s legacy.
“He mentioned the land between two rivers and the first city,” Morgana replied. “I believe he was referring to Mesopotamia and the city of Uruk. If I’m right, then he might predate the Circle’s oldest written records of Mother Gaia. Everything from before those records consists of oral traditions and the sporadic visions of the past granted by Mother Gaia to us Keepers. Some of those visions and legends tell of Mother Gaia walking the Earth as a young maiden, pregnant and radiant. The issue is that most of us, including me until today, believed these visions and legends were metaphorical.”
Regis nodded along as she spoke. Shifter traditions depicted Mother Gaia as a mother in a literal sense but not as a person. According to their legends, the first fae, shifters, sorcerers, druids, and mythical beasts originated in some way from her whether they spawned from the Earth like the fae or her magical lifeforce had awakened their latent power like druids and sorcerers. Every faction in the supernatural community had recognized Mother Gaia’s influence in one way or another; well, except for the sorcerers. Those snakes believed Mother Gaia was nothing more than a massive relic left by an ancient Sorcerer King who had transcended into the Astral. Utter bullshit as far as Regis was concerned yet the idea of Mother Gaia walking around popping out god babies only ranked slightly higher on the scale of believability.
In his opinion, being a member of the supernatural community didn’t mean one should believe every myth and fairy tale especially since so many of them contradicted each other. Although, the thought of myths reminded Regis of something potentially pivotal.
“What about this spirit of his?” he asked. “It sounds eerily similar to the nonsense that the Black Witch spouted.”
“Her name is Lucille, Regis,” Morgana said, her expression turning stern. “Calling her the Black Witch only makes you sound like a fool who buys into the Conclave’s propaganda. It’s plain as day that the sorcerous orders needed a scapegoat to stop the rest of humanity from coming down on their heads and Lucille made herself an easy target.”
“You mean by being the prime suspect?” Regis retorted. He trusted Morgana with his life and soul but they still disagreed on their fair share of matters. Despite the likelihood of Morgana being right about the scapegoating, he didn’t believe that made the Black Witch innocent. Something was off about the woman; and though he couldn’t put his finger on what that was, it was enough to keep his suspicions high.
“No, by telling the truth,” she shot back. He nearly scoffed but stopped, frowning instead. When he met his wife’s gaze, she shook her head, likely seeing the stubbornness in his eyes. “You asked about her spirit so you must see the parallels. She said a powerful spirit made her a sorcerer, helped her stop her rogue Archmage, and protected her from the deadly mana eruption that killed half of the state of New York. Now, we have an ancient soul within our grandson’s body and he’s claiming that a mysterious spirit who possibly dates back to before the beginning of civilization is the one who saved him shortly after the Shadow’s Passing.”
“It could be a coincidence and nobody has ever heard of anyone becoming a sorcerer. Even the old traditions insist that you have to be born to it,” he said, but his confidence had waned. Like a hammer, Morgana shattered the leftovers when she next spoke.
“Maybe, but consider this my wonderful husband,” Morgana said. Regis knew the look in her eyes and sighed. He would likely be admitting that his wife was right soon. He poured another shot as she continued. “When Lucille sought sanctuary with us, do you remember what she called her savior?”
“No…,” Regis replied. He honestly didn’t since he had been more concerned with getting the woman out of Holsburg as fast as possible despite his wife’s frustrating decision to let her stay a few days.
“An,” Morgana stated with a smile on her face. “Its name was An. An, Anu, Anum: all these names refer to the supreme deity of Mesopotamia. And do you know who his consort was?”
Sometimes, Regis forgot that his wife had been a librarian before the world went to hell. Thankfully, he didn’t have to respond as she barreled on to answer her own question.
“Ki, the goddess who embodied the Earth, who some believed to be the same entity as the Sumerian mother goddess, Ninhursag. In the old myths, Ki and An give birth to the Anunnaki who were the chief gods of the ancient pantheon. Sound familiar? The spirit who saved Eric and the one who saved Lucille are likely the same.”
“That’s a lot, Morgi,” he said. “We don’t even know if—”
Look at my hand, Regis” she said, interrupting him. With a short sigh, he obliged.
Her hand had a slight tremor in it and if he focused, he could hear a faint hum coming from her entire body.
Stolen story; please report.
“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately worried that her contact with Eric had done something. Her smile grew.
“I feel amazing, Regis,” she said, throwing him off with the unexpected answer. “Eric wasn’t lying. I felt her inside of him. I’ve never felt this close to her, not even when communing with the node. It was Mother Gaia. She was broken but there, plain as you or I. And, the love that she has for Eric, or Ebēru, or whoever he is, is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Nine children, fourteen grandchildren, and an entire town that I love with all my heart: I have all of that and I can’t even begin to describe her love for Eric to you. We can trust him, if I know anything it’s that.”
He looked into his wife’s eyes and felt conflicted. Years of cynicism and protecting Holsburg from the nightmares that emerged during the Shadow’s Passing shaped Regis into a hard man capable of separating his feelings from his duties; however, Eric Blackthorn complicated things. The kid, whatever or whoever he was, had trouble written all over him. And despite that, Regis couldn’t bring himself to see Eric through the same lens as he viewed Lucille. Maybe it was the face that was so similar to his dead son’s appealing to his parental sentimentality or the fragment of Mother Gaia speaking to his shifter instincts but he felt that he should trust Eric.
“If we trust him,” he began, leveling a severe look at his wife. “That means we’re accepting the possibility that he knows and might have access to the Patron. And that’s on top of him being an ancient sorcerer with a connection to Gaia.”
Morgana’s smile flattened into a hard line.
“That’s true. If what he said is true, and I think it is, we have to keep this a secret and make sure he does the same for now. Holsburg is safe but the town couldn’t deal with the kind attention that information spreading would bring.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Regis replied, downing his third shot. “We barely made it through the war unscathed. I don’t want to think about what would happen if the Aristocracy, the Conclave, and the government all came down on our heads. We need to decide how we’re going to handle this, short and long term.”
“I suggest we get to brainstorming then,” she said, her smile returning. Regis wished that he could do the same but he saw the darkness on the horizon. Then again, that’s why he had married her. He grabbed hold of her hand on the bar top intertwining his fingers with hers.
***
I awoke to the sound of the door to my room opening. My first waking thought was to lament the dryness of my mouth and the unpleasant feeling in my throat. I didn’t bother turning my head to see who had entered since I could identify her from the faint resonance I still felt from her soul.
I attempted to push myself up and pleasantly found great success. I had a few minor aches but the soreness was a shadow of its former self. Once I was upright, I noticed a faint, pleasant aroma in the air, and looking at Morgana revealed that she held a metal platter with a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of clear liquid, and a small plate of bread chunks.
“Good to see you can move a bit,” she said placing the tray on a small end table only a short distance from the headboard of the bed. I couldn’t help but stare at it with a bit of impatience as the Archdruid sat on the edge of the bed and placed her hand on my chest. “Now, hold still.”
A few quick words mumbled under her breath were all the clues I had before I sensed her mana swiftly maneuver into a pattern that was unknown yet familiar.
Curious, I allowed the technique to complete without resistance and watched the mana pass through her palm, into my body, then back into her palm several times. The mana never penetrated very deep, merely passing under the topmost layer of my skin triggering goosebumps across my body. After the mana’s last cycle, I realized what she was doing.
“A diagnostics technique?” I asked.
She nodded, pulling her hand away and getting up.
“It is,” she confirmed while giving me the side-eye. “Though we call them spells, only some sorcerers call them techniques.”
“Ah. I will keep that in mind,” I said “I suppose the terminology of this era is something I will have to learn among other things. Speaking of which, I’ll have to discover exactly how long it has been since I lost my original body at some point.”
“Well. I can help you a bit on that matter,” she said.
Before elaborating, she gathered the platter. I wasted no time positioning myself to accommodate the platter as she sat down with it. She carefully set the platter on top of the blanket and scooped a bit of the soup from the bowl with a metal spoon. I allowed her to feed me a few spoonfuls until she seemed satisfied that I wasn’t having any immediate adverse reactions and gave me space to eat myself.
“Well, the current year is 2056 of the Common Era. It’s the second calendar month of twelve as of yesterday. It’s very likely given some details in your story that you are from a period referred to as Before the Common Era though I don’t know enough to guess as to when during that period you lived. At the very least, you were in the Astral for a little over two thousand years, if I am correct.”
“I see,” I replied, keeping my expression blank as I ate. The food would’ve been considered bland by most standards but to my newly-acquired taste buds, the flavors of the sliced vegetables, chicken, and bread were amazing. Even the water had a subtle sweetness to it which only enriched my enjoyment. Inwardly, I delighted at the feeling of cool water sliding down my throat and banishing the dryness while I projected my stoic façade. After finishing my glass of water, I added, “I suspected that a truly long time had passed but it is something else hearing the truth spoken by another.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot imagine what you must be feeling after having lost so much time,” she said.
“It was no loss,” I chuckled. “For a time, I regretted my blunder but my time in the Astral taught me more than I would’ve learned in the Physical, limited as it is. Although I lost most of my power, I still have my knowledge and my soul is still strong so it should only take a few decades to restore my former power.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how powerful were you before the Crawling Shadow got ahold of you?”
The probing question wasn’t surprised. Morgana and Regis occupied positions of leadership in Holsburg, perhaps the positions of leadership, so such questions were inevitable as they helped gauge my potential threat or benefit to their town. In the spirit of gaining her trust, I gave Morgana a partially true answer.
“I’m not sure since I’ve been away from other people and my only references are a bit skewed,” I explained. “However, if I used you as an example, not even a hundred of you would be able to match me at my peak while now, I would have difficulty merely escaping from a confrontation with you.”
She nodded, seemingly unsurprised by my answer.
“When I healed you shortly after you arrived in town, I felt the strength of your soul and I believe that once you regain your full power, you will rank amongst the most powerful people on the planet,” she said. After a brief pause, she locked eyes with me. “Which brings me to a proposition I wanted to discuss.”
“Oh?” I said after swallowing a bit of soup-soaked bread. “What did you have in mind?”
“Regis and I have discussed how we should handle you and your situation. As I said earlier, you can stay but only under the caveat that you tell no one the truth of your story. It may not be my place to decide with whom you speak the truth but there are several pieces of information within your story which, if true, would bring the might of the major factions of the continent down upon your head, and subsequently ours as well. For instance, most of the major factions wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap you, force us to give you up under pain of death, or use anyone close to you if they knew about that spirit of yours whom I am almost certain is the Patron.”
“Patron?” I asked, suppressing a smile. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed shaping the thoughts and actions of mortals.
“Yes, an entity only known as the Patron entered into a covenant with the Akashic Records and saved us all from the Crawling Shadow when all hope seemed lost. According to you, the Patron is likely the spirit who saved you when you were a child and when the Crawling Shadow had you in its clutches. Some of the most powerful factions across the world have made claims about the truth of the Patron’s identity to legitimize their power while others have expended significant resources trying to find out who or what the Patron is.”
This time, I nodded. “That makes sense. They see the Patron as a sort of divine entity and either wish to borrow its authority or discover the truth of it. You are likely right about my savior as during my most recent encounter with the spirit, it was more powerful than anything I have ever sensed except for the Shadow. In light of that, I think your terms are wise and agree to adhere to them. Was that all?”
She smiled. “No, as I said, Regis and I discussed how best to handle your situation. We believe it will be impossible to avoid uncomfortable questions given your skill in magic and your apparent recovery from a bedridden invalid to a young man who’s the picture of health. We’ve concocted a narrative for those who may ask questions including your mother, Liberty. We will announce it at a family meeting tomorrow if you agree to it. We can discuss the specifics in a bit.”
Her eyes took on a sharp focus and she turned to face me fully.
“The crux of our proposal is this: Regis will induct you as a member of the Holsburg shifter pack and I will accept you as one of my apprentices. Under the guise of a brilliant and innovative young talent blessed by Gaia, we want you to employ your vast knowledge to strengthen our community teaching myself, Regis, your packmates, and my apprentices. In times of emergency, you will also help us defend our town and family. We are willing to accept your discretion on what is taught so long as it doesn’t involve human sacrifice or endanger our town or family. In exchange, Regis and I are willing to offer the resources available to our family and town as well as our personal resources for your use so long as you don’t use them to the detriment of Holsburg or our family. We three will swear this oath to one another in the Grove at the center point of the ley line node with Mother Gaia as our witness in the early morning before the meeting.”
I leaned back against the headboard in faux contemplation. There wasn’t much to consider since I was getting what I wanted. They would be getting the better end of the deal, more so than they could ever realize, but I had no issue with that. They were mortals after all. Finite knowledge and lifespans limited their potential to a fraction of that of an astral being, much less one that had reached my level of power. The only thing of importance was the acquisition of resources and information that I could use to navigate the Physical and achieve my goals.
Besides, I wanted to know if the oath would have any sort of binding effect when done with an Archdruid over this ley line node which I believed with almost complete certainty was an intersection of Libbu’s structures bound to the Earth.
“Very well, Morgana Holston. I accept your deal.”
“Excellent,” she said, looking a bit too pleased with herself. “Now, we should go over our cover story on how you’ve come to be as you are.”