CHAPTER SIX- MAGICKAL BEINGS AND CREATURES?

Monday 9th April, 2018- NEW SALEM, STATE OF WILLOW, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

As The Artist and Haggins Hopkins delved into discussions about Magickal Beings and Creatures, The Artist found themselves recalling moments from their university days when they studied Art and Occult Sciences at Miskatonic University. The Artist remembered how James, their father, had always encouraged them to explore their interests fully, and had nudged them to take up Occult Sciences as a second major. At the time, The Artist had found it intriguing, but they hadn’t fully grasped the implications of what they were studying until now.

Haggins shared tales of Mages, Vampires, Elves, Werebeasts and many other mystical beings that existed beyond the veil of the ordinary world. The Artist listened intently, their mind connecting the dots and filling in the gaps where Haggins’ knowledge fell short. It was evident that The Artist had a deeper understanding of the subject, and Haggins’ pride in seeing his student correct and contribute to the conversation was evident on his face. It was a moment of shared knowledge and mentorship, and The Artist felt a sense of belonging in this world they had only just discovered.

As they approached Rei Hajime’s office, The Artist couldn’t help but notice the diverse and exotic faces among the Red Society employees and visitors. Some of them looked strikingly different from ordinary Humans, with features that hinted at their non-Human nature. The Artist’s curiosity was piqued, and they couldn’t help but wonder who these beings were and what roles they played within the Red Society. Haggins noticed The Artist’s inquisitive expression and offered an explanation. “You see, the Red Society is a gathering place for MBCs from various parts of the globe”, he said, “We have Mages, yes, but we also have representatives from different MBC species. Elves, Vampires, Nerieds, Remnants and more. They bring their unique abilities, knowledge and perspectives to our cause. We seek to preserve the balance between the Magickal and non-Magickal worlds”.

The Artist nodded, taking in this new information. It was awe-inspiring to think that such a gathering of beings from different nations and walks of life existed right here, hidden in the depths of New Salem. The Artist’s mind was buzzing with questions, but they also knew that they had to be cautious and respectful in this new environment.

As The Artist continued to explore the Red Society’s Headquarters, they were in awe of the coexistence between Humans and the various Magickal Beings and Creatures. Elves, with their ethereal beauty and pointed ears, mingled with Human visitors, engaging in friendly conversations. The range of skin tones among the attendees was vast, from the typical fair skin of Humans to more exotic hues among the Elves. Some Elves had skin that resembled the pale blue of the sea, while others had a soft pink glow to their complexion. It was a breathtaking display of diversity, showcasing the beauty of different beings coming together.

Mages, with their eyes and hands aglow with powerful auras, practiced magick spells in the corner of a room. The energy they emitted was palpable, and The Artist couldn’t help but feel a sense of reverence for their abilities. The sight of magick being wielded so openly and skillfully was mesmerizing. Amidst the crowd, Werewolves, a variant of Werebeasts, stood as vigilant guards, their keen senses ever alert to potential threats. The Artist marveled at their presence, knowing that these beings were capable of transforming between Human and Humanoid-Wolf forms. It was like walking through the pages of a fantasy novel come to life.

Throughout the headquarters, Humans were busy performing various tasks. They carried out paperwork, interviewed both Humans and MBCs, and seemed to have roles spanning from administrative work to security. The Artist couldn’t help but notice that some of the Humans were armed with guns, which struck them as peculiar among such a gathering of mysterious beings. The Artist approached one of the Humans, who seemed to be overseeing the security operations. “Excuse me”, The Artist inquired, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of the staff here are carrying guns. Is it for their protection?”. The Human nodded, offering a friendly smile. “Yes, that’s right”, he replied, “Some of the MBCs here possess powers that can be dangerous if misused. We have strict protocols in place to ensure the safety of everyone within these walls, Humans and MBCs alike”.

The Artist appreciated the straightforward explanation, realizing that even in a place of wonder and mystique, practical concerns still needed to be addressed. They marveled at how the Red Society had managed to strike a balance between the extraordinary and the pragmatic. As The Artist continued to explore, they couldn’t shake the feeling of being in a dreamlike state. This was a world they had only read about in fantasy books and seen in movies, but now it was a reality before their very eyes.

As time passed, The Artist mingled with different beings, engaging in conversations and learning more about their individual experiences and backgrounds. At one point, The Artist encountered an Elf with vibrant blue skin and silver hair, who introduced themselves as Lunaria.

She shared stories of her home in the Kazakh S.S.R, a Soviet Socialist Republic where the sky-high peaks of the Tien Shan Mountains meet vast steppes and deserts. It is a landlocked region bordered by other Soviet republics— the Russian S.F.S.R to the north, the Uzbek S.S.R to the south, the Kyrgyz S.S.R to the southeast and the Turkmen S.S.R to the southwest. Kazakh is spoken as the local language, but Russian is the official language throughout the Soviet Union. As an emissary, Lunaria worked to foster understanding and cooperation between the Elves, Humans and other MBCs.

As The Artist continued to interact with the Elves, they couldn’t help but be captivated by their ethereal presence and unique grace. Despite dressing in normal clothes to blend in as Humans, there was an unmistakable aura of elegance that surrounded them. The Artist noticed how they moved with a certain fluidity, and their chiseled features exuded a timeless beauty. Intrigued by the Elves, The Artist couldn’t resist asking Haggins about their past. Haggins explained that thousands of years ago, the Elves were not as free as they are today. They were once slaves and subjects of cruel experiments conducted by powerful Mages. It was a dark chapter in history, but the Elves had shown incredible strength and resilience in overcoming those hardships.

Haggins’ words filled The Artist with a deep sense of respect for the Elves. The Artist realized that the beauty and elegance they admired were not just inherent traits but also a testament to the Elves’ strength and determination to rise above their painful past. Despite the scars of their history, the Elves had managed to reclaim their freedom and now thrived as equals within the Red Society.

(12:00 AM)

As The Artist and Haggins made their way into the office of Rei Hajime, their host had already taken the step of rolling out the welcome mat to his office. Rei Hajime appeared to be an Asian man of Japanese descent who was in his early 30s. He wore a grey waistcoat with a long-sleeved white shirt inside, finishing off his outfit with a pair of black formal trousers and formal black leather shoes. His physical features were that of pale skin, a sharp nose and red eyes. His hair being in an undercut style, with the top white hair flowing down past the shaven portion of his haircut, with the white hairs slightly covering this black-haired portion. The reflections on Rei’s silver-framed Windsor glasses seemed to distort the coloration of his red eyes, giving it an almost otherworldly and enigmatic appearance. As The Artist and Haggins entered the office, Rei Hajime greeted them with a warm smile and a slight bow. “Welcome, welcome. I’m glad you could make it”, he said in a polite tone, “Please, have a seat”. With Rei gesturing towards the seats in front of his desk, which The Artist and Haggins took gratefully. As they began to discuss matters.

“Welcome, my guest”, Rei said, “I trust your journey here was pleasant? Now, let us delve into the matters at hand”. The Artist couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and awe at Rei’s appearance. Sensing the unspoken question, Rei chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his red eyes.

“I see you are curious about my appearance. Allow me to explain. I am actually 156-years-old, and my origins as a Dhampir contribute to my unique appearance. Dhampirs, as you may know, are the offspring of a union between a Vampire of any breed and a Human. My mother was a Strigoi Vampire from Austria, her name was Vlorina Sophie Habsburg, Archduchess of Austria. My father was a Japanese sailor from Maizuru, Kyoto. His name was Rikuto Hajime, he died in 1905. My mother died in 1914”, Rei explained.

“Sorry to hear that. But I’m sure time has helped heal the wounds. How is it that you still look so young, as if you are in your early 30s?”, The Artist asked. Rei smiled back. “Thank you. Time has helped heal the wounds. As for my youth, I owe that to my mother’s lineage. The vampiric blood coursing through my veins grants me extended life and slowed aging, but does not keep me truly immortal like a standard Vampire. Dhampirs usually have a lifespan of 500 years or so, enough to live about four Human lifetimes”, Rei replied.

“It’s truly fascinating. Does your Hybrid nature come with any drawbacks?”, The Artist asked. “Not really. I have the super strength and speed of my Vampiric brethren. But I cannot use the specialized abilities of a Strigoi Vampire such as controlling Bats or turning into one, as with all other Dhampirs. Though my youthful appearance is the ability I cherish the most”, Rei replied, “I have witnessed the world change around me for over a century. Such longevity can be both a gift and a burden, as you can imagine”.

“Now about your parents, the Red Society has deployed all its resources to look for them. For the past two months nothing has come up. Although evidence from our agents Detective Minnesota and Police Officer Sgt. Eddie Constantine, suggest your parents having been missing for several weeks before you came. The testimonies of your parents cancelling plans and avoiding contact from Carl Webster, Steven Weinstein and Daisy Bruce-Miller suggest so”, Rei explained, “If I’m not mistaken you told Sgt. Constantine that you last spoke with your parents eight weeks before you came, and then you spoke with them two days before arriving. Evidence suggests that they disappeared seven weeks before your arrival, which means there was a one-week period in which your parents disappeared. Meaning that the people who you spoke to, two days prior to your arrival were actually imposters, or so I believe so”.

“Imposters. That makes sense. When I spoke with Mom and Dad on the phone, they seemed distant”, The Artist contributed, “It was like they didn’t want me to comeback to New Salem, telling me to stay away, saying that things were not as it seems, and that the State Lockdown enforced by the military just made things worse. But that was the phone call which was eight weeks before I arrived. I actually called them a week after that, the one-week period in which you think they disappeared. Their usual rants of ‘Will Visit You in Virginia’ or ‘New Salem is Not as Fun This Time Around. The Lockdown and all That’. Disappeared. They were very adamant on me coming back”.

“All of the sudden they said ‘Well, darlin’, lemme tell ya somethin’. We want y’all home, don’tcha know? You can stay with us, right here in New Salem’. If I’m not mistaken”, Sir. Hopkins said, trying to make his best impression of Samantha’s voice. Which made The Artist and Rei genuinely smile. The mix of a Southern and British accent was one to jest with. It gave The Artist a sense of comfort, knowing these two may actually be one of their Dad’s ‘buddies’ and not suspects themselves. “Exactly”, The Artist replied, “It was like all of the sudden they wanted me back. The call I had with them two days before I came confirms this. Which is strange”.

“It’s not strange. James told me the same thing when we spoke of you wanting to come back. That was five months before it happened. He was very against it”, Sir. Hopkins said, “He didn’t say what the problem was. But he was afraid, afraid of something or someone. James just said, him and your mother had somethings to take care of. And then poof, gone. Webster tried calling him, nothing. Daisy actually visited your house three weeks before you came to check on Samantha, the house was empty but well maintained and looked after. As if someone was staying there. So, we just assumed they were fine and were going to show up when you came back. But nothing my dear chap, nothing. With our worries rising when Constantine told us that you reported your parents missing. So that’s what we’ve been doing for the past two months, just searching for parents”.

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“If you’re wondering why we didn’t contact you, it was because of three reasons. Your father’s promise, the armed robbery incident you were in and your eagle-eyed boss, Dan”, Rei explained, “Your father didn’t want us telling you about the MBC world, sure you were born one, but he felt you weren’t ready to control your magickal abilities yet. When you didn’t report the incident, you had with the Marauders we feared the worse, we thought they maybe involved and had killed you. If you’re wondering how we know this we’ve got spies everywhere, watching all the time. And your eagle-eyed boss didn’t help either. Busy threating you into silence”. “Dan Russell”, Sir. Hopkins chipped in, “Ex-marine, served in Afghanistan for four years, and also served in the NATO invasion of Libya in 2011. Got quite the distinctions. Earning a Purple Heart Award and a Silver Star for his bravery”.

“He hasn’t been any help either. The spy we assigned to monitor you said he had coerced you in some way to not report the armed incident with the Marauders to the authorities, in fear of your safety and his own. You may believe he was just sitting around idly in his office at JaJay’s, when in fact he was using his ex-Military connections to dig up dirt on you”, Rei explained, “Our informants or ‘Regents’ as you may commonly call them. Informed us that he was browsing through your birth records, school records, university information, IRS tax files and credit history, trying to find any weaknesses or vulnerabilities that could be used against you. He seemed desperate to uncover something that could force you to comply with his wishes. But naturally we used our connections within the government and private industries to severely distort the information. So, nothing to worry about”.

The Artist wasn’t shocked, Dan seemed to only be interested in them during their sick leave when it came to the silence of what happened between them and the Marauders. Coming under the pretense of wanting to protect The Artist and him from any future attacks, telling The Artist to lay low and keep contact limited, when in reality it was just a really veiled threat. “I was very much aware of that. He seemed to be watching my every move. Buying my artwork and re-dressing my bandages just to please me”, The Artist said, “Anyway. Do you believe an MBC is involved in my parents’ disappearance?”. “Yes”, Rei replied, “I believe two or more maybe involved. Shapeshifting Mages or Hollows who took on your parents’ appearance and lured you into coming back to New Salem. Our prime suspect is The Cult of Blair”. “The Cult of Blair?” The Artist asked as their eyes widened. “Yes”, Rei replied, “An organization of Hollows and Horrids bent on reviving The Willow, Queen of Hollows”.

“I sure your already aware of our founder’s history. How Nathan Noir sailed the seven seas with his mentor Robert de La Salle and conquered these lands in name of the French and their king, Louis the 14th, in the year 1682”, Rei continued, “But that was not all that happened. I’m sure Haggins would like to explain the rest of the story. Its his specialty. Ain’t it, Haggins?”. “Sure it is”, Sir. Hopkins replied, “Its one of my favorite bedtime stories if I have you know”.

“In the year 1682, Nathan Noir sailed to the Americas, colonizing a land he named Willow in honor of King Louis the 14th of France. But his conquest brought forth violence and bloodshed as the colonists clashed with the Native Americans”, Sir. Hopkins said, pausing for a moment, gathering the weight of history before continuing, “The Native American witchdoctors, fearing the growing threat, summoned The Willow for protection. They struck a deal to offer the French Colonists as food in exchange for her safeguarding their people”. “But The Willow, cunning and malevolent, twisted the agreement”, Rei interjected, “She used a loophole in the agreement to slaughter both the Colonists and Native Americans, plunging them into a brutal conflict”. “Nathan Noir realized the danger she posed and united the warring sides”, Sir. Hopkins said, admiration in his voice. “In 1718, he launched a final assault against The Willow, destroying her physical form, but her soul was fused into the heart of Willow, leaving a haunting darkness”.

“To counter this eternal threat, Nathan founded The Order of Dawn before his passing in 1758”, Rei added, “Their mission was to protect Humanity from Magickal Beings and Creatures, especially The Willow should she ever return. Haggins, having grown increasingly dissatisfied with The Order of Dawn’s extremist views, decided to part ways with the organization”.

“Its not something to proud of”, Haggins contributed, “The Order was very Euro-centric and Human-centric in both membership and bases of operations, The Order of Dawn had mostly ravaged much of Europe’s secret MBC population in a great purge. The Order’s intentions though noble were extremist. Being too harsh and too violent on any MBC they came across, whether good or bad. Persecuting them with the utmost highest levels of discrimination. It was horrible. As a former curator of the British National Museum and a respected member of The Order’s United Kingdom Branch, my departure was not without its challenges. Upon expressing my dissenting views on how to deal with MBCs, especially in the aftermath of The Willow’s eventual demise, I faced intense opposition from the higher-ups in the UK Sect. They were adamant about adhering to the organization’s traditional methods of ruthless persecution against all MBCs, regardless of individual intentions or actions. This led to heated arguments between me and The Order’s leadership, which culminated in a definitive split. I could no longer align himself with an organization that operated with such an uncompromising and prejudiced approach. Fueled by my desire for a more equitable and understanding world, I chose to sever all ties with The Order of Dawn. It resulted in my dismissal as Head of the British National Museum, as it was handed down to me by The Order in the first place. I refused to be their puppet and Archivist, so they let me go”.

“Haggins eventually found solace in the Red Society”, Rei contributed, “Unlike The Order, the Red Society understood that not all MBCs were inherently evil or dangerous. It was a transformative experience for Haggins. He found like-minded individuals, like myself, who shared his vision for a more empathetic and just approach to dealing with MBCs. Haggins’ background as a former curator at the British National Museum, and his extensive knowledge of history and MBCs made him a valuable asset to the Red Society”. “And I thank you for that, my friend”, Sir. Hopkins complimented. “As do I, my friend”, Rei replied to Haggins.

“I can see why you chose to part ways with The Order of Dawn, Sir. Hopkins”, The Artist said, expressing empathy for his difficult decision. “It seems like such a boring organization. It’s essential to recognize that not all MBCs are evil or dangerous, just as not all Humans are inherently good”. Rei nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. The Red Society believes in a balanced and inclusive approach. We understand that individuals’ actions should be judged on their merits rather than their species. While it’s crucial to protect Humanity from potential threats, it’s equally important to recognize and respect the rights and dignity of MBCs”, Rei said.

Sir. Haggins smiled warmly at The Artist’s words. “You have a wise and compassionate perspective, my young friend. It warms my heart to see that the Red Society has found such a dedicated and understanding member in you. Your artistic talents, knowledge and open-mindedness will undoubtedly be valuable assets in our quest to protect both the Magickal and non-Magickal worlds”, Sir. Hopkins commented.

(1:30 AM)

After the meeting with Rei, Sir. Haggins Hopkins took it upon himself to take The Artist on a tour around the Red Society’s facility of Mesagok Creek, No. 108. The Artist had seen extraordinary things, but at the same time, they did not see the full picture. The Red Society was a small organization, but it was powerful. The Red Society had access to dominant resources that were not to be seen by the public eye.

The Red Society had a network of spies and diplomats known as Regents that kept an eye on supernatural threats amongst both Humans and MBCs. They also had a team of scientists and alchemists who studied supernatural elements to understand them better. They also employed a type of mercenary known as a ‘Deathstalker’ by MBCs, in the thousands, who were skilled in combat and were ready to fight Human and supernatural threats. As The Artist was introduced to these teams of people, they could not help but to be amazed by their skillsets. The teams consisted of people from different backgrounds and cultures, whether Human or MBC, that had one thing in common, the dedication to bringing Humans and MBCs together and eventually introducing them to the public. Though keeping both worlds apart for the time being, and protecting them from each other.

“Do you typically operate past midnight or awkward hours?”, The Artist asked, as they were being escorted out of the Red Society’s Headquarters. “No”, Sir. Hopkins replied, “We mostly operate at night because its perfect for our clandestine operations, but we are a 24-hour open organization. Sometimes the dayshift is just as important as the nightshift. The mission of the Red Society never stops”. “Clandestine?”, The Artist asked. “You know. It means secret or hidden”, Sir. Hopkins replied. “Oh”, The Artist said, “So the bit of what Rei said about Detective Minnesota and Sgt. Eddie Constantine being the society’s agents, are they MBCs?”. “Yes. Minnesota is a Vampire and Eddie is a Werewolf. The deputy under Constantine’s wing, Lewis Evergreen, is Human. But is well aware of our existence. In fact, he is training under Constantine to become a Red Society Regent”. “Are you an MBC?”, The Artist asked. “Heavens no”, Sir. Hopkins said with a chuckle, “Though I would like to be one. Besides I wouldn’t have made it out of The Order alive, would I?”. “Just checking”, The Artist assured Haggins.

“Haggins be honest, my Dad is not around so you can forget about any promise you made to him. Why wasn’t I told I was one? That I was an MBC. Are my parents MBCs?”, The Artist asked with genuine concern. “My dear chap, the world of MBCs is not something to play with. Sure, it may look nice in movies and fantasy books, but it is often aloof with dark and dangerous powers that seek to destroy Humanity at every corner. Your father worked as our agent to protect you from such a life, he could not risk putting his only child in harm’s way”, Sir. Hopkins replied, “As for your mother. I cannot speak on Samantha’s behalf as of now. But in due course, when we find her, I’m sure she will tell you everything”.

“Another honest question Haggins. How do you know they are not dead already. It’s been two months, wouldn’t the kidnappers have gotten rid of them by now?”, The Artist asked. “No, they would not. Because they have not gotten what they want. You”, Sir. Hopkins replied, “Think about it. The culprits only make their move when your parents deny your return to New Salem. Then as to manipulate you into returning to New Salem. Let’s just be honest here. The Cult of Blair isn’t after your parents, they are after you. I believe they want to use your powers to revive The Willow”. “Am I really that powerful enough to do it?”, The Artist asked, “I just learnt magick today and I’m yet to discover the full extent of my powers”. “I don’t know”, Sir. Hopkins replied, “But I’m sure as hell certain The Cult wouldn’t waste their tine kidnapping random New Salem couples”.

The Artist and Haggins reached the clearing that lay in front of Red Society HQ, the same one where the Black SUV had dropped The Artist off. And the same SUV was there, waiting for The Artist, its yellow headlights shining against the swamp’s fog. “Listen now. I cannot not protect you from everything, and I cannot not train you in everything. The hidden world of Magickal Beings and Creatures amongst Humans is that of danger and strife, much like growing up in the real world. Our driver here, Joel, will take you wherever you need to go”, Sir. Hopkins said, “I will send you a list of people and organizations you must visit to gain a better understanding of the MBC world. Good luck and Godspeed”. “Thank you Haggins. Tell me anything I need to know about training in the MBC world”, The Artist replied with determination. Sir. Hopkins said with a smile, “Remember, there will be challenges ahead, and you might feel overwhelmed, but don’t forget that you have allies within the Red Society, even if you didn’t accept our invitation of membership. Reach out to them when you need help”.

And with that, The Artist entered the SUV and left the swamps of Mesagok Creek. Despite now knowing his name, Joel still kept to his silence. Just focusing on the road ahead, as he did when he first brought The Artist to the Red Society. The Artist sat in the back, contemplating the events that had transpired tonight. “Dan was keeping secrets, Dad was keeping secrets, Mom was keeping secrets”, The Artist thought, “And now a cult is after my life. I just came to revive my art career, not Kaitonchukwu”. The Artist’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts as they rode in silence with Joel. The weight of the revelations and the danger that now surrounded them weighed heavily on their shoulders. It was a lot to take in, and they knew that they were just at the beginning of a treacherous journey. As the SUV drove through the dark streets of New Salem, The Artist couldn’t help but feel a sense of vulnerability. They had entered a world filled with mysteries and dangers, and they were still learning to navigate it all. But one thing was certain— they were determined to find their parents and put an end to The Cult of Blair’s sinister plans. Once back at their apartment, The Artist found it difficult to sleep. The events of the night kept replaying in their mind, and the questions seemed never-ending. But they knew that rest was essential if they were going to face the challenges ahead.