Devil

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 12

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 12: My team and I get sneaky and hope prevails

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“I know this is bad timing with us heroically headed to fight the council but um… am I free?” Grant asked. He looked younger than his nineteen years and I felt bad for him.

“As far as I know, Luc is no longer a threat. Your soul is your own. But you’re not free, you’re still a Gatekeeper and you’re still stuck with me,” I said with a smile.

The group laughed awkwardly and Grant said, “I’m okay with that. Um… how do we find Lance?”

That was a good question. I knew that he had a house in Toronto and an apartment in New York. Sylvie said my thoughts aloud before I had the chance, “He’s got to be close. No way he’s sending waves of public domain assassins at us from across the province. Maybe I should call my fiancée and see if she can track his cell?”

She hadn’t finished the whole statement when my phone rang. Since I was driving, she reached into my pocket and said, “It’s him.” She put it on speaker.

I took a deep breath and said, “Hey Lance. We found Galaus, he’s no longer a threat.”

“Excellent. You’re well on your way to redemption. Did you find his base of operations?” Lance sounded excited. I could faintly hear bells in the background.

“No, sorry. We had some issues with a superpowered devil Aetherborn.” You bastard, I added in my thoughts.

There was a silence and then Lance said, “I guess that’s okay. I’ll get a team out there to clean up your mess. There’s a report of gremlin-like creatures in Winnipeg. I want you and your team to take care of it. Your new recruit should head back to Westmeath and start getting ready for her apprenticeship. Bruce down in Lima will be training her.”

Sylvie made a face and looked angry.

“Sure boss,” I said.

“Good job not screwing this one completely up.” Lance hung up and everyone started asking questions at the same time. 

I had to stop at a train crossing. The lights and bells were ringing to tell me a train was coming. “Bells!” I exclaimed over everyone’s shouting..

“What?” Sylvie asked.

“The bells. I heard faint bells on the call with Lance. This train is coming from the west, where Shield’s Crossing is, which means he’s there.

“Shit,” said Galaus. “He’s planning an ambush.”

“Or he believes us and thinks we’ll run along on the new errand without hesitation,” I suggested. “Let’s give him exactly that. We’ll go to the motel to pack up and pretend to head out. Then we’ll double back and catch him at whatever he’s doing here.”

Everyone agreed and I was thankful the rental van had tinted windows to hide Galaus. It didn’t take us long to pack up. Lance would be expecting us to head to Westmeath to get a new van and drop this one off. It was almost dinner and we could make it if we hurried. Traffic into town would be bad but since we weren’t going, I didn’t care.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I could swear someone was watching me the entire time we packed up. I tried really hard not to look for them.

“Sylvie, where’s your car?” I asked, not remembering her ever using it.

Looking mischievous, she replied, “I don’t have one.”

“How did you get here then?”

“That’s classified,” was the only thing she’d say. 

I knew that Yggdrasil Command was working on strange stuff but I had no idea how she’d gotten here. 

“How do you plan on hiding a big white rental van?” asked Robin as she climbed in.

Before I could reply, Sylvie said, “Leave that to me.” 

When everyone had piled into the van, we drove toward Westmeath.

When we were fifteen minutes out, we turned into a rural road and parked out of sight of the highway. “Did anyone follow us?” I asked.

Everyone said, “No” and I turned to Sylvie. 

“My fiancée makes me little gadgets,” She placed a small metal cube on the dash and flicked the little switch. I felt the magic rush over the van but couldn’t see any difference. “It makes the vehicle invisible. It only works for a few hours before it needs to be charged again.”

“I’ll be careful driving,” I said and turned back onto the main road. It was dark now and I was fairly certain Lance would be at the fancier hotel that was near the train tracks.

There were a dozen cars in the little parking lot and most of them were rentals from Ottawa or Westmeath. That wasn’t unusual in itself but I suddenly got a bad feeling. 

“Either the Halloween festival is attracting guests early or there’s a conference in town,” Ursula said. Her deep voice sounded annoyed. “Should I take out my sword to see if there are any illusions?”

“No. We’re hidden by one now,” I reminded her.

“Oh, right.”

“If that’s the council of Gatekeepers, we’re in trouble,” Galaus remarked. “No offence but you’re all young and in need of more training. 

That’s when the council members, including Lance, came out of the hotel. I had met them all before but never in the same place. What were they doing? The twenty members from all around the world drove off in the same direction and I followed them.

“Whatever they’re up to it can’t be good,” Galaus said somberly. “The last time they were all together, they blamed me for killing the previous council.”

The cars drove to the same field that we’d just left, and with a wave of Lance’s hand it turned into an old stone agora.

Whispering, with a quiver of fear in his voice, Grant asked, “What can we do against twenty Gatekeepers that throw magic around like mages?”

No one had an answer and we watched as they started some sort of ritual. Magic was pouring into it and the members were all so focussed on what they were doing that they didn’t see the two dozen musketeers take aim and shoot at them. I didn’t see until it was too late either.

I swore as all the members of the council except for Lance fell to the ground. Not thinking, I jumped out of the van and ran to the nearest member. They were dead and I could feel their magic being drained by Lance.

“You killed them all? Why?” I shouted and summoned my sword.

Lance smiled a toothy grin, “Power. The Gatekeepers are mine and it’s time we showed the world our true strength. Join me, and together we will rule this realm as gods.”

“Wow. He’s gone full Bond villain,” quipped Sylvie. She had her gun out and shot at him. The bullet turned into a rain of rose petals that fell at Lance’s feet.

Lance tossed a bolt of pure power at me. My sword already in hand, I tried to parry it and was shocked when it worked. It made a sort of sense, our blades were made of Aether barrier energy and that held the magic at bay. What other knowledge had we lost because of the council’s lust for power and control?

“I can’t let you get away with this. You’re making a mockery of everything it means to be a Gatekeeper. We’re meant to protect people, not control them!” I shouted as I rushed him.

He met my blade with his but he was slower than me and not as careful as Galaus. We traded blows but I was confident I could beat him.

“You don’t understand, we are just power. There’s no higher calling, no noble knight, if the Ladies of the Lake wanted us to be honourable they’d have stopped me by now.”

There was a certain logic to his words but they still made me angry. I was promised honour, mercy, and a mission to make the world a better place. My anger grew at the betrayal of everything we were, and my black blade started to glow a silver light. 

“Lance, you are a disgrace to Gatekeepers and I won’t let you get away with it.” I put all my feelings of betrayal and anger into a downward cut, and Lance raised his sword for an easy block.

My sword sliced through his, releasing all the magic stored in him into a wave of brilliant light. His sword sizzled and disintegrated.

“NO!” he screamed and made the motions to cast a spell and nothing happened. Sometime during our fight, the musketeers had disappeared. 

“Lance, I strip you of your power and position as a Gatekeeper,” I said and felt a reverberation in my sword. I knew I was broadcasting the message to all other Gatekeepers. Another thing I didn’t know we could do. “The council was killed by you in a gross misuse of power. I think it’s time to make this a democratic institute.”

There was a lot of politics and setting up before the Gatekeepers could work as a cohesive unit again, but I was confident we could do it.

Maybe it was time to pick an assignment. I heard Baker was missing Gatekeepers. It was time to go home.

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 11

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 11: My team gives the Devil his due

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

With a plethora of fictional fighters coming toward us, Galaus, my team, and I prepared to fight. 

I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to do anything after an intensive training session but it’s not easy. You’re tired all the way to your bones and no matter how good you are, your body moves slowly.

We started by trying to dispel the fighters but they had been formed too long ago. We can’t return things to the Aether unless they’re freshly summoned.

Galaus and I were able to boost the others’ energy but not enough to fight half a dozen experienced fighters. We were soon spending more time retreating than fighting and we needed to do something.

“Sylvie, remember what Great Uncle Ray always says?” I asked her. I didn’t want to be any more specific and it was hard to think, parry, and talk at the same time. 

“When are you and that wizard getting married?” she replied questioningly as she moved forward on the Scarlet Pimpernel.

“He asks you that too? Nevermind. The other thing!” Our uncle seemed more than a little preoccupied about the love life of our expansive family. He says it’s because he wants us all to have the same happiness he’s found with his husband.  

“It’s annoying but I know he cares. You mean combat isn’t chess. If you’re losing, cheat,” she said, and I could hear the annoyance in her voice. “How is that useful? Are you saying my gun would be useful here?”

“I wish,” I said wistfully before adding, “No. I need you to make a distraction.”

“Okay then,” she replied and parried the Pimpernel with her sword in her left hand. In a smooth motion, she pulled out her gun and shot him in the head. It did absolutely nothing but the noise and surprise made everyone stop.

I’m not a wizard but I have been trying to learn about runes. As a ritual, they take time to set up, but if you do it right, they can have a big effect. My plan was to pat down the grass around the fight in the right runes to dispel the fictionals. It was something I’d been learning from a friend who was a wizard, not from the other Gatekeepers, and I hoped that was going to surprise them.

In my fatigue, I must have done something wrong because nothing happened. Everyone on my side was bleeding or hurt, and it was just a matter of time before someone made a fatal mistake.

I had to get help. I took out my phone and dialled a number I knew very well before putting the phone in my front pocket.

Thinking of Luc, the literal devil, I said, “I need your help.” Louder, I added, “Please!”

“No!” a petulant demonic voice said, echoing through the fields.

The combatants all stopped. Galaus was the first to move again and took down one of the musketeers. The fight continued and my heart sank. 

“Please, I’m begging you!” I said loudly. “Help me!”

The field disappeared and we were all sitting around a poker table with Luc as the dealer. The enemy fighters were gone and I was holding a losing hand of cards.

“Aces high, jockers wild, and play like your soul is on the line,” Luc smirked.

“What the hell?” Galaus asked. “Didn’t I kill you?”

“Can’t kill the devil, young man. I’m eternal.” 

Hoping to get some information, I said, “As real as those fighters.”

“Are you going to call or raise?” Luc asked before adding, “I’m a person. They’re just golems, homunculi, Aether robots; no souls.”

“With enough time, they could become sapient just like us,” Galaus said, in a tone that was both disapproving and grumpy.

I smiled at the old man, “When it comes to sapience, a little time and some magic does wonders, but when it comes to true power, it’s not that easy, right?”

Looking at me quizzically, Galaus replied, “That’s true, Aether-creatures and even certain Aetherborn will grow in strength as they get older. What are you up to?”

“Enough. Let’s get down to deals.” Luc rubbed his hands and a contract appeared in front of each of us except Grant, who’d already signed one to save us from the Adlats.

“No thank you,” I said, doing my best to look smug.

Red-faced with anger, Luc screeched, “You begged me for help!”

“No I didn’t,” I said and pointed at the entrance of the room. I was starting to think she wasn’t going to come, but thankfully she opened the door. “I was asking her.”

She was a sight to see in her tall boots, jeans, and long leather coat. Her light brown hair was tied into a long braid. Annabel was unarmed but radiated power to anyone who knew what to look for. 

“Fascinating construct. Made by the same power as those fighters outside,” she commented, looking around at the casino and everything in it.

“Who are you?” demanded Luc.

Ignoring him and turning her hazel eyes toward me, she said, “Seriously, you go silent for three months and suddenly pocket dial me for help?”

“I’m a jerk,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

With a dramatic sigh, Sylvie added, “He totally is, but he’s had this whole guilt complex because of the colour of his sword. Probably didn’t think he was worthy of you or some such male bullshit. Thanks for coming though.”

“If I knew you’d be here, I’d have called your fiancée.”

The lights darkened and red fire seemed to erupt from behind Luc. In a menacing baritone, he shouted, “I do not like being ignored. Get out of my house.” With that, he gestured at Annabel. 

I felt the jolt of power he threw. It should have thrown her out of the building, if not the province. She moved her hand around and suddenly there was a cool breeze in the room. 

Annabel was a wizard who specialized in alteration magic. She takes things and turns them into other things.

With her coat blowing dramatically, she walked slowly toward Luc. She stopped in front of him and just eyed him. It reminded me of the way a knitter looks at a nice sweater, like they’re trying to figure out how it was made.

Finally she spoke, “You are a beautiful piece of work but you’re so young. Given a few more decades, you might become powerful enough to be a threat. I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.” She reached out and plucked a hair from his head. 

A tremor rocked the building and it was as if the world was unravelling. Things started to disappear until there was nothing left but Annabel, Luc, Galaus, my team, and I standing in a field with the sun setting.

“What have you done?” Luc demanded. “Where’s my power?” He fell to the ground and started weeping.

Kneeling next to him comfortingly, Annabel said, “I disconnected your being from the Aether. You are now just a regular Aetherborn.” Looking up at me, she asked, “Do you know who created these things?”

“Yes, and we’re going to deal with it,” I replied.

“Is it a Gatekeeper matter?”

“Yes.”

Nodding, she said, “I’ll take care of him. You go finish this. Then call me.”

Read Chapter 12

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 10

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 10: My team trains with a master

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

Everyone’s blades were drawn. We were all on edge after dealing with the devil himself and then seeing him killed by the man opposite us: Galaus the rogue knight, accused traitor, and probably our only hope.

He dispelled his massive sword and played with his orange moustache. When we didn’t move, he asked, “Are we all going to stand around or are you going to do some real training?”

“Why should we trust you? You just killed a man,” Grant said, sounding more relieved than fearful.

“Oh, he’s not dead. Just dispersed for a bit. He’ll be back and probably angry. Part of the reason you need to train.” Galaus looked smug but behind the bravado, he looked lonely. Or maybe that was my imagination.

I took a deep breath and dispelled my sword before saying, “Pie filled you in?”

“Yeah. Dealing with one of my mistakes. Sorry about that, sonny.” He fiddled with the hem of his coat before adding, “He and the other golden blades think they should lead because they can do magic, but the blackblade are better suited to leadership. When I suggested that, they banished me.”

Sylvie looked smug as she asked, “So blackblades aren’t evil?”

“Naw. They can influence the mood around them and inspire people to do better but we’re not evil. We’re protective of our teams and can get grumpy but not evil.”

He looked at me with piercing grey eyes and asked, “You’re the senior knight?”

“Yes,” I replied, barely swallowing the ‘Sir’ that wanted to come out. Some things are hard coded in a military family.

“Show me what you have,” his sword reappeared. “Just you to start.”

The great thing about magic swords is that you can set them to not hurt your opponent. When we duelled, we normally made sure to avoid killing each other.

We stayed in the field of grass, the others moved back, and I summoned my sword. When I was young I assumed most older men were frail or at the very least slow. I was wrong and it almost cost me my life when I fought against a wizard. I attacked Galaus; his swordsmanship was impeccable. 

As we fought, he spoke to the group, “You will almost always fight something that is more powerful than you. The trick is to find out their weaknesses, and to exploit them.”

He performed an impressive set of moves and beat me back. I couldn’t find his weakness when it came to swordfighting. “Not just exploit their weakness,” I added, “but use our strengths.”

He smiled and asked, “What is a Gatekeeper’s greatest strength?”

“Our sword!” Grant shouted. 

“No!” both Galaus and I shouted back.

“Our minds?” Clifford suggested.

Galaus laughed and replied, “No. Too many Gatekeepers forget to use that.”

“What’s left?” asked Robin in her squeaky voice. She sounded defeated.

Sounding a little annoyed, Sylvie replied, “Each other and the community we protect. You sound like my grandfather.”

His eyes flicked to Sylvie for a moment and it gave me the opening I needed, I beat at his sword and lunged, nicking his shoulder. If we’d been dueling for real, I would have cut deep enough to sever muscle.

“Excellent,” he told me but kept looking at Sylvie. “I trained your great-grandfather. He was one of the knights that didn’t try to kill me. Instead, he helped me get into the wizard’s library and study the old texts.”

“I didn’t know,” both Sylvie and I said in unison. 

“Can people stop doing that? Please. It’s creepy,” Robin said.

Galaus smiled widely and said, “I’ll teach you the things I learned and help you when the time comes. But I won’t train him.” He pointed his sword at Grant. 

“What? Why not?” Grant looked guilty and surprised at the same time. His indignation was obviously fake.

Giving the young man a stern glare that would have made a seasoned soldier uncomfortable, Galaus replied, “You broke your vow and don’t deserve that sword. If it was my choice, I would strip you of it and deliver you unto your master.”

I put two and two together and it added up to three dead adlats. I sighed deeply and said, “He saved the team’s life. I might not like how he did it but he’s young.” Grant must have made a deal with Luc to save us. That meant either his soul or something worse.

Galaus took a step toward Grant who looked ready to cry or run and the older man said, “Is that true?”

“Yes sir. I traded my soul to save everyone’s lives. I made sure it only cost mine,” Grant said and looked down.

I thought Galaus was going to hit Grant but instead, he chuckled and said, “You’re a fool but a fool with his heart in the right place. Let’s get to training. It’ll only be a matter of time before Lance sends something to attack us.”

There was a moment where we all looked around, half expecting something nefarious to appear, but nothing happened and we started training. A lot of it was new ways of using our swords and group tactics that he said were standard a thousand years ago but had been shunned for the Romantic ideal of the solitary knight errant. 

As the sun started to set, we retrieved food from the van and had a picnic. As we rested, Galaus said, “You work well together. I see why Lance might be scared of you. Especially you two. Gatekeeper legacies are rare enough, but to have two in the same family is unheard of.”

“It’s a really big family,” Sylvie said, only partly kidding. We had more cousins than I could easily name.

“It looks like we’re about to find out how well you can do against a real opponent.” Galaus pointed back toward the road and I had trouble believing what I saw. Walking toward us were four musketeers, a masked man in scarlet, a semi-naked man with a laser sword, and a masked man all in black.

Read Chapter 11

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 9

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 9: My team comes face to face with a villain

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

They called him Galaus the Slayer. Might sound a little melodramatic but it was pretty fair for having killed half the council in the late nineteenth century.

There was a large sign at the edge of his property that read, “Stay the F out.” It was underlined by a black arming sword that looked a lot like mine.

Sylvie chuckled and said, “Really? The big bad slayer couldn’t write the whole word?”

The trees were tightly packed, but once we passed the sign,, there was a perfectly round clearing with a little white house in the centre. The clearing was at least half a kilometre in diameter. “Stay on the road,” I told the others as we walked up to the house, “I’d be ready to bet there are traps in the grass areas.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Grant said, moving more into the centre of the road.

“Do you blame the man? He’s been hunted by Gatekeepers for over a hundred years,” Ursula added.

“That means he’s seen us coming already and he’s overly cautious. We should be ready to protect ourselves,” Sylvie said while zipping up her jacket and tapping the zipper three times. I assumed her fiancée had put some sort of protective magic on it.

“Keep your swords sheathed,” I ordered as we got half way to the little house. “We don’t w—” A streak of dark light flew toward me and suddenly an onyx black sword was being held to my neck. 

A man that looked like he was in his nineties but moved like he was in his twenties stood in front of me, holding the sword in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. “I thought the council had finally given up trying to kill me.” Despite living in the woods, he wore a three piece charcoal suit.

“We’re not here to kill you. We’re here to ask you for help.”

He laughed and replied, “You’re either desperate or stupid.”

“Oh he’s definitely both sir,” Sylvie quipped. Her posture was relaxed but it was a little forced. I knew her well enough that she was calculating the risks he posed and what she needed to do to neutralize him as a threat. 

“Ha!” he said and added, “Family huh? Interesting. Show me your swords.” His sword and gun didn’t waver. The group all summoned their swords and he relaxed a little. “What about you?” He punctuated the question with his sword.

I summoned my sword in reverse grip, planting its tip in the gravel road and leaning on it.

The man nodded and asked, “Who was your master?”

The rest of the group pointed at me and I sighed. If Lance was a traitor, he’d either framed or tried to kill him and I really didn’t want to say his name. “Please don’t puncture me but my master was Lance.”

“He taught a blackblade? I’m surprised. You must have been very trusting.” He brought his sword and gun down. “What do you want from an old, tired man?” He turned around and started walking to the house.

I took that as an invitation to follow and answered his question, “The Gatekeepers have made a name for themselves as being honourable. I had no reason to doubt him.”

“Sounds like you needed to believe you were chosen to do good.” He paused and took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “I was the same way at your age. The Gatekeepers were the incorruptible knights. They represented all that was good and trustworthy. But not all of us liked following a strict moral code.

“War was brewing and we knew it was going to be massive. After the Magical community got together and voted to stay neutral, there was a lot of trouble. The wizards asked us to act as peace keepers. The Gatekeeper council decided to not interfere in the war but still keep helping individuals who needed it.

“The goldblades didn’t agree; they thought that we could do more good fighting the war than staying out of it. Lance and the others attacked the council and despite my best attempts I wasn’t able to save them.”

“That’s quite a story,” Sylvie said, looking not the least impressed. She glared at him, obviously waiting for more information.

Turning around to face me, the man said, “You have a lippy one. You’ll have to train some respect into her.”

“Never talk about one of my knights like that again,” I said growling a little. I was going to follow it up with something devastatingly clever but got distracted.

We were close to the house now and something smelled off. I should be smelling grass, forest, and some woodsmoke from the house, but instead I was smelling sulfur and rotten eggs.

I stopped moving and held my hand up in a fist to tell the others to do the same.

“Sylvie, Grant, and Ursula, could you please take out your swords?”

The moment the rainbow swords appeared, the environment around us changed. The perfectly manicured lawn became marshy wetlands, the small house turned into a familiar mansion, and the old man became Luc. 

“Oh darn, I almost had you.” He didn’t seem all that surprised. “It’s a matter of time. You’ll come begging me to help you in chapter eleven.”

“What did you do with Galaus?” I asked, ignoring his words.

The devil smiled widely and replied, “That’s the great part. I didn’t do anything. I just tricked your GPS.” To Sylvie, he asked, “When did you know?”

She replied, “Your tongue touches your front teeth after you lie. Your suit is too modern. A hundred year old knight would wear something more vintage.”

“I knew I should have gone with tails.” Luc snapped his fingers in mock disappointment.

Sylvie shook her head and said, “To be more authentic, I’d go with a long black double-breasted coat, a black vest, and a white dress shirt with a bow tie. Don’t forget the bowler hat.”

“That’s awfully specific, wh—” Luc was cut off by a dark blade piercing his throat. Behind him, having appeared without warning, was a large, sixty year old man sporting a bright orange handlebar moustache and dressed exactly as Sylvie had described.

Luc’s body turned to black smoke and floated into the mansion as both disappeared, leaving us facing the newcomer whose blade was now pointed toward me.

With a heavy Scottish accent, the man said, “Pie said you might need some help.”

Read Chapter 10

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 8

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 8: My team talks while eating pie and talking about sword colours

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

We once again sat at the Pie’s Shop. 

A thin girl with curly brown hair, smiled showing her braces, and said, “What can I get you?” 

We ordered and she frantically scribbled on her pad of paper. She repeated our order and I asked, “Where’s Pie?”

“Grannie’s in the back pretending she isn’t watching me. I’m Piper the third and I’m eleven.” She sounded proud and ran off to the kitchen. She got the orders right but the people wrong. When she left after giving us our orders, we all switched.

With no one in the store but us and the kid in the back, I said, “Okay, what do we know?”

“Someone is messing with the Aether in this town and they’re not happy we’re here,” Grant said.

“Maybe it’s time to contact the council?” Ursula asked. I knew she was scared because she hated the council, and said they freaked her out.

The rest looked at me expectantly. I nodded and said, “Fine. I’ll call Lance.” I took out my phone and called my former master. “Hey Lance. I have a problem I need your help with.”

“You need help?” I could hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m shocked. What’s the issue?”

I explained to him the whole thing and then asked, “Does this fit any previous patterns?”

After a prolonged silence he said, “Sounds like a rogue wizard to me. I’ll contact the Wizard’s Council. You and your team stand down. I’ve heard of a disturbance in Hearst, head up there. Remember you’re on thin ice, don’t mess this up.” He hung up.

“He’s an ass,” Sylvie said. The rest of them nodded. 

“He’s in charge of the entire east coast.”

“Still a dick,” added Ursula. 

I tried to take a drink from my coffee but it was empty. Finally, I said, “He told us to head out.” When everyone looked disappointed, I added, “Too bad that the van was destroyed and we’re having trouble getting another one.” 

Sylvie was the first to understand. “Yeah, and a small town like this, it could take a few days.”

“We could rent two cars,” suggested Clifford. A stern glance from Ursula made him rethink, and he tapped his nose. “Oh. Right.” 

“Do you really think he’ll call the Wizard’s Council?” Grant asked. 

“Only one way to find out.” Again I pulled out my phone and dialled an old friend.

“Alfy! How are you? Is this business, pleasure, or Annabel?” Jack’s slight British accent was thicker when he was teasing. 

“Business, unfortunately. Do you know if any of the Gatekeepers called the Council about something happening in Shields Crossing?”

“You should call her. No. Nothing yet. Do you need my help? Or do you want to me call if I get the call?” I once again explained the whole thing. He didn’t hesitate to say, “Sounds like an artificer or summoner. I haven’t gotten word of anyone like that. Do you want me to come up there? It’s only a few hours.”

“No thank you. Just call if you hear anything. I’m starting to think I know what’s going on.”

Sylvie swore and then swore again. We heard giggles from the kitchen and Sylvie shouted, “Sorry!” When everyone seemed confused, she explained, “Lance is either our problem or he’s covering for them.”

Everyone else protested but eventually came to the same conclusion.

“Lance trained me, he taught me everything I know about the Gatekeepers. That means everything you know. We need to find another senior knight—”

“Not a council member,” interrupted Sylvie. “We need someone who’s neutral.”

I nodded and was going to ask where we could find someone, when Pie walked in and said, “My hearing is still very good. Did you need another Gatekeeper?”

“Yes. Preferably someone not part of the council.”

“I know just who you need. Galaus,” she said with a small smirk.

The name sounded familiar and I almost gasped when I realized who he was. “The traitor?”

“Bah,” she said and moved her hands like she was trying to fan away a bad smell. “He’s a sweetheart and his reputation isn’t deserved.”

“Lance told me that when he was a new recruit, his master had become jealous of his golden sword and tried to kill him. Something that’s unfortunately common with black-blades.” I looked down and finished with, “He almost succeeded. Apparently, he took out half the council elders before he disappeared.”

“When was this?” Sylvie asked.

“Sometime in the eighties.” I replied.

Pie tsked and added, “The eighteen eighties, dears. Although how that’s possible is beyond me.” Her tone and wink made it clear that she fully understood.

“We’re going to live past a hundred?” Grant asked, looking excited.

I sighed and said, “Some of us, yes. Knights with silver blades can live a few decades longer than normal humans. The others live longer, with the gold living the longest. No one on the council is under a hundred and they all look like they stopped aging in their forties. At least, that’s what Lance told me.”

“What’s everyone’s sword colour?” asked Sylvie.

We all put our swords on the table. Robin had a green blade, Grant and Ursula had rainbow, and Clifford had ruby.

“So we have gold for ruling class, rainbow for freedom knights, and black for sinful knights, but what are the others?”

“I’m a nature knight,” answered Robin. “We’re champions of the natural world, protecting it from the aether.”

“I’m a knight of safety. I protect those places that are sacred or safe,” Clifford said proudly.

I continued, “Each specialty comes with some extra powers. Ruby knights can inscribe protective runes in places that prevent the aether from leaking in, nature knights can heal nature or animals from magical harm.” I paused just to tease her before continuing, “Rainbow knights break mind-affecting spells simply by being in the same room, and gold can use aether like a wizard.”

“What about silver and black?” Sylvie asked, literally on the edge of her seat.

“Silver can heal and recharge from the things they banish and black can bolster everyone else’s powers around them.

She laughed and quipped, “Ah yes, helping your allies. That’s definitely the evil sword power.”

Read Chapter 9

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The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 7

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

Cartoon physics would have had them flying hood over tailpipe, but real world physics still seemed to be in effect. Popeye punched right through the hood of the van and his arm got stuck.

“Get out!” I shouted and everyone jumped out of the van. I was glad I got the extra insurance on the rental. It’s a no-brainer when fighting Aether-creatures.

Popeye picked up the van and tossed it into the forest with a crash of trees. “The boss wants to talk with ya,” he said.

“Ga Bort!” I shouted and pushed my will against him. He was an Aether-creature but he’d been made by a wizard, which meant he had some defences against us sending him back to the Aether.

The others understood and started to help. He was a strong construct, pun intended, and he was able to resist five trained knights. I was starting to feel my will weaken when I heard Sylvie shout, “Glannchient!” and her will was added to the pressure of ours. With an audible pop and sploosh, Popeye became an equal weight of Aethergoo. 

“Good job, group. Anyone’s cell working?” I asked as mine only reflected my face and wouldn’t turn on. 

Each of them said no until Sylvie. “Mine is fine. My fiancée made it. It’s water proof, magic proof, and can actually stop a bullet.” She stared blankly at the phone and then asked, “Who do I call? Normally with this kind of thing, I call you.”

I laughed and said, “Let’s just look at how far we are from town.” The thing about Ontario is once you start driving, if you’re not familiar with the area, distances and time become useless. It should be a twenty minute drive to our hotel from where we started but how far we’d gone and how that translates to distance is a magic beyond me.

She pulled up the DT Maps app and it showed we were a ten minute walk from our hotel on the edge of town. With the night having finally covered the world, we trudged back to civilization.

“Did the devil send Popeye?” Sylvie asked.

“I doubt it,” Grant replied. “He felt too put together to be a random Aether-creature but he also was too weak to be made by the Devil himself.”

“That was weak?” Sylvie’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out.

“Unfortunately, he was a well-made Aether-creature but he wasn’t sapient. Which means he shouldn’t have been able to fight back. Unless he was created by a wizard. Probably expecting him to face one or two Gatekeepers, not six.” I patted her shoulder. 

“Who then?”

“Same person who placed the Adlats and summoned the House of the Rising Sun,” I replied.

Looking expectant, Sylvie asked, “Who?”

“I have no clue.”

We walked in silence and as we approached the hotel I smirked and said, “Glannchient? Really? Every language in existence and you choose High-Pakahan?”

“Oh, leave me alone, it’s the only thing I could think of. At least it means, ‘to banish’. You literally say, ‘go away’.”

“Nerd,” I teased.

“Dork,” she rebutted.

We were all exhausted and the world didn’t seem to be imploding yet, so we separated into our hotel rooms. Ursula and Robin always stayed together. Robin and Grant had a hate-flirt relationship going and It was better to put them with an older and more level headed person. Clifford had taken to tutoring the younger man, whether he liked it or not, in business and real art.

I snored, so I got my own room. Also, I was in charge and didn’t want to deal with their bickering all night and day. Sylvie joined me in my room since she didn’t have one. She’d expected to go home by nightfall.

I managed to take off my coat and shoes but I fell asleep before I could do anything else. It had been a long day. 

The smell of coffee and grease woke me up. “Aarrggg,” I said.

Snickering, Sylvie said, “Articulate. I can really hear the Oxford accent there. This is why you get all the girls.”

I glared at her and took the breakfast and coffee she was offering. When I was finished, I looked at her and said, “How do you look perfectly put together? It’s…” I looked at my watch. “Six?” 

“I’m not new to the road life, cuz. My mom dragged us across the country. I learned how to look military clean before I was six. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse is that I used more energy yesterday than I ever have and it was just a bunch of near misses. I have no idea what or who we’re up against.” I didn’t like admitting it.

Silvie made a face as she sipped from her cup, “The Dancing Goat has really spoiled cheap coffee for me.” She paused and asked, “Don’t you, I mean, we, have a chain of command?”

“Each knight is apprenticed to someone until they’re ready. Then they wander the world trying to help the helpless and all that. Once they’ve completed a few quests, they apply to be posted somewhere and the council posts them where they are most needed.”

She swore, “That sounds like a military version of a pyramid scheme. Who decides the council?”

“They’re appointed when their swords turn to gold,” I replied.

“Hum… Who gives the swords?”

I shrugged. “There are a lot of ideas but no one really knows.”

She summoned her sword and I nodded. It took Clifford a week before he could do it consistently.

Looking at the long thin blade, she asked, “Why is it rainbow coloured.” She was right, the metal looked like it was forged in multicoloured waves.

“Rainbow is associated with knights that are ideologically linked with protecting freedom.”

Dismissing the sword, she said, “We’re colour coded?”

“Not really. Council members are gold, freedom knights are rainbow, and most other knights are silver.”

“And what about you? What colour is your blade?” she asked. She might have seen it but it was in a stressful situation.

I summoned the blade. It was pure black with dark grey swirls that glowed a gentle light. “It’s black. It’s for the knights that have sins to atone for basically, I’m on divine probation.”

Read Chapter 8

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The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 6

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 6: My team dances with the devil

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“In my defence, in movies, bottles break really easily,” I said feeling sheepish. The bottle just sort of lay there at his feet.

“Did you really think a little holy water would stop the devil?” he asked incredulously. Then he picked up the bottle and unscrewed the cover. An extremely strong smell of olive oil, peppermint, and rosemary permeated the air. What couldn’t be smelled was the purified salt and iron. He laughed and said, “I am not a salad.”

“Oh, it wasn’t for you,” I replied.

“Who—” He turned in time to see Sylvie’s fist.

“Me, you asshole,” she said to punctuate the hit. 

I heard his nose break. He dropped the mixture, splashing it on himself. Where the liquid hit him, he burst into flames. The same thing happened when it hit the floor.

For one triumphant moment, I thought we’d won. Then the fire petered out and the devil reappeared next to his own body. He slow-clapped to rub it in and said, “I’m impressed. Beside myself, really.” I ignored his pun. “What was in that?”

“Extra virgin olive oil from the same tree species as the cross of Christ, rosemary oil, peppermint oil, salt, and iron shavings. All of which is blessed by six different religious leaders,” I said with a sigh. It was a sort of catch all, it should slow down ghosts, demons, angels, undead, Fay, and most things considered evil in western mythology.

“Let’s talk business then.” Luc smiled, his mouth looking two sizes too big.

“You forget that you have six knights in front of you,” Clifford quipped and tried to summon his sword. It didn’t work. “Um. Maybe we can negotiate?”

To give the devil his due, he didn’t seem angry and just chuckled. “Enough silliness. Everyone sit down!” His words were a command with magic behind it. The table and chairs all moved to fulfil his will.

Killing him didn’t work. It must be the building that’s the source of the magic, not him, I said to my team in mindspeak. None of them replied.

“Good deduction,” Luc said. “Mindspeak doesn’t work here. Same as your weapons, and any real magic.” 

“What do you want?” Sylvie asked, looking ready to punch him again.

“It’s simple, I have something you want and you have something I want.”

“What is that? Our souls?” Sylvie asked sarcastically. When he didn’t correct her, she rolled her eyes and said, “I’m an atheist.”

“Then you’re trading something for nothing.” A flourish of his hand had a contract appear in front of her, along with a comically long feathered pen.

Scoffing, Sylvie replied, “My wife explained to me that there are some actions, especially with magic, where the intent and the willingness to do the action is more important than the consequences. If I sold you my soul, even if there is no such thing, I would still have sold my soul and been willing to sell it. No way am I signing anything you give me.”

Luc squinted at her and said, “Aren’t you a cop?”

“Ex-cop and there’s a reason for that, which I won’t be sharing with the literal devil.” 

Flapping his hands dramatically, contracts appeared in front of everyone but Grant.

Mine promised me a life with the woman I loved and the ability to protect the world. It was tempting but my love would have to choose me or it wouldn’t matter. I pushed the contract away.

“What’s the matter Galahad? Not a good enough deal?”

“I’m far from pure and certainly not incorruptible, but your act doesn’t interest me.”

“Well, if I can’t make a deal with you, I’ll make one with one of the others.”

“No!” I ordered. “You have nothing we want other than our freedom.” I started getting up and added, “Your hospitality has been adequate but we must be on our way.” I focused all my energy toward the building in the same way I would for an Aether-creature and I felt the house pushing back.

With a comical pout, Luc said, “You’re free to go then. But this isn’t the end. I will have your souls.” He cackled and the entire house faded away, leaving us shivering in the forest.

“What? That was—” Sylvie started and I cut her off.

“No. Don’t! Just don’t.” I looked around but there was no hint that the area had ever been inhabited by anything bigger than a squirrel.

“Did you take care of whatever was in the caves?” 

“Actually, Grant did,” I said. 

Sylvie looked him up and down and didn’t say anything. I was having the same doubts that she was but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, yet.

“So was that my quest?” Sylvie asked. 

“Let’s head back to the hotel and lick our,” I looked around, “metaphorical wounds and go on from there.”

As I drove the van around the lake and back toward town, I heard Ursula tell Sylvie, “Some people get the sword before their quest, like me. I got the sword two months before anything exciting happened. Others get it after a show of bravery like Albert. And finally others get it in the middle. You’ll know when it’s over. You’ll feel more secure and safe with the sword.”

Sylvie sighed and replied, “It’s not over. There’s something we’re missing.”

I hit the brakes as hard as I could and swore.

In front of the van was something that filled me with terror. Looking at us bewildered was Popeye the Sailor man in glorious two-dimensional animation.

Clifford was the first to echo my sentiment but soon everyone but Sylvie swore in various languages. 

“It’s just a cartoon. You took on the devil? What am I missing?”

I was the first to explain, “Cartoon characters follow their own rules. They don’t care about things like real life or physics. They’re made by someone extremely powerful or a full-on rupture of the barrier protecting us from voracity of the Aether.”

“Dramatic much, cuz?”

“He’s saying that either we’re facing a mage of Merlin level or someone destroyed a part of the barrier in one of the places it’s the strongest.” Ursula said.

From outside with a bellowing baritone, Popeye said, “I’m strong to the finish ’cause I eats me spinach,” and flexed his improbably shaped arms before punching down on the front of the van.

Read Chapter 7

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The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 5

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 5: My team enters the house of the rising sun

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

We stood in front of the whitewashed antebellum style house and despite the waves of heat coming off it, I shivered.

The sign read, “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.”

“Are we dealing with a sapient house, an Aetherborn version of the devil, or something else?” squeaked Robin, her eyes wide.

“That house is wrong,” Clifford said in disgust.

Laughing hysterically, Grant asked, “The house of evil is wrong? Oh really?” He sounded ready to run.

Clifford scoffed and replied, “No, the roof is wrong. Antebellum-style houses had a hipped or gabled roof; this one has more of a steeped roof which was neo-gothic. Although It is from the same time period.” 

“Very educational. Are we really going into that place?” Ursula’s voice was monotone but she looked nervous.

I looked them over and took a deep breath before saying, “I want you each to centre yourselves and tell me what your senses say about this place.”

They did as I said and after a few moments, Clifford said, “It’s old, really old. We might be seeing a hundred year old house, but it’s much older.”

“Good,” I said. “Grant?”

He replied, “It doesn’t feel like Fay magic but it doesn’t feel exactly like Aether either.”

“Excellent. Ursula, what can you tell me about the size?”

“It’s bigger than it looks. The outside is just a shell, the inside is massive. The size of a whole city.”

“You’re all doing great. Robin, your turn.” 

She took a deep breath and said, “It smells hungry.”

“It is,” I said. “I’ve seen something like this before. It’s extremely rare. It’s a house or concept created by Aether but that subsists on eating people’s quintessence.” I turned to my team and said, “You’ve been a great team. I think you’ve all grown since I first met you. This isn’t part of our mission and I won’t ask you to go. Thank you for giving me the honour of teaching you.” I turned back to the house and started to walk toward the entrance.

As I entered, I heard my team follow me. I hadn’t been sure they would but I’d hoped.

Once inside the house, the heat was humid and sticky. The smell of food and alcohol wafted from somewhere ahead of me. My traitorous stomach grumbled. 

There was a black man dressed all in white standing at a little podium in the entryway. It all looked like a fancy restaurant or members only club. 

The man was looking at a list and made a small cough before saying, “Sir Therien, party of six is it?”

“Where is my cousin?”

“She’s waiting for you inside with Master Luc.” The man said the name with a soft C like in Lucy. “Please follow me.”  When he gestured, I saw a red mark on his wrist; it was a small stylized skull.

The restaurant had no closed walls, allowing a tropical breeze to blow in, bringing the smell of ocean and flowers to compete with those of the feast of a buffet.

The place was full of people, each with the red skull mark on a part of their body. The further we went into the size and physics defying room, the more desiccated and mummy-like the people became.

When we passed the buffet and approached the far doors, I asked again, “Where’s my cousin?” 

“Just through here sir,” the man pointed at a door that hadn’t been there a second before.

As we crossed the threshold, the heat changed to dry heat and we were on a balcony of a Greek style house. The city outside was burning and someone was playing sad bagpipes.

“At least it’s not the library,” I quipped. 

The man guiding us had disappeared and another man in an all black suit came out of one of the other two doors. “Would you prefer that?” he asked.

“No. Where’s my cousin?” I asked.

“She’ll be along soon. I just wanted to meet this generation’s Galahad.” He spoke quickly like an actor rushing his lines.

“Anyone who thinks I’m incorruptible lacks imagination,” I said before taking a formal tone, “Thrice I have asked, thrice you have denied me. I declare this establishment in contempt of the rules of hospitality.”

The man smiled in a way that didn’t touch any other part of his face and moved really close to me before saying, “Are you invoking Fay in the Devil’s home? The entirety of the Fay Kingdoms couldn’t hope to understand the depth of power here, none of which is bound by such childish rules.” 

“The Supernatural Accords of 1991 state that any member of the magical community who kidnaps another sapient creature forfeits their rights to retaliation or defence.” My sword appeared in my hand and I nicked the man’s neck just below his jaw. The cut was shallow but I was still surprised to see the lack of blood. Before the man could react, I placed the tip of my sword on his shoulder and said, “Tell Lucy that I will rip this place apart spell by spell if he doesn’t bring me my cousin in the next thirty seconds.” The man’s shoulder started to sizzle as I pushed power into my sword. 

I counted in my head and when I reached  twenty-nine: Sylvie walked in from the same door we’d come from. She was followed by a man dressed all in red with a matching cane. 

Syl, are you okay?

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were open but glazed, and she moved awkwardly, like she was a puppet. 

“You wanted to see me?” the man asked. He looked like a movie star; white teeth, pale skin, black hair, and a jawline that screamed “manly”.

“I’m going to give you one warning. Release Sylvie and we’ll leave here peacefully.” From the corner of my eye I saw Grant looking horrified at what I said.

“What are you going to do? Stab me? I don’t remember swords being all that effective against the devil.” The man laughed and Sylvie followed in a mechanical imitation.

“I warned you,” I said and pulled a bottle out of my coat. I threw the water at the man. Nothing happened.

Read Chapter 6

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Top 5 Silliest Arguments

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XKCD – Duty Calls

5. I can’t see the curve

For the past two thousand years scientists have been explaining that the earth is a spheroid. Ancient soldiers needed to keep the curve of the earth in mind when firing catapults, and trebuchets.

But for some reason, to this day, there are people who argue their inability to see the curve of the earth is proof that it must be flat.

We have footage from countless satellites, astronauts, space telescopes, and sports cars in space, but apparently that’s just a giant conspiracy.

4. The devil did it

Science isn’t flawless. History is only a good as the person who wrote it, those that can read it, and the medium it was recorded on. However, we have near certainty that the earth is old. Like really old. Somewhere around 4.5 billion years.

Certain people however think that an allegory can help date the earth and they believe that it’s 6000 years or less. Some believe that dinosaurs roamed the earth with humans two thousand years ago. Others, when asked about dinosaur bones, will reply that the devil put them there to test our faith.

3. Car exhaust is worse

If I’m standing close to a smoker, I start coughing and feeling like I’m going to be sick. We’ve known that cigarettes cause cancer and are bad for people’s health for more than fifty years. Yet smokers still walk around like they own the sidewalk or bus stop.

When smoking is banned, or talked about being banned, smokers start arguing about their rights and there’s always those that argue that you’re getting more harmful chemicals from car exhaust.

As if the fact that car exhaust is bad for us means smoking should be okay… I guess their view is if Rome is burning, they should be allowed to walk around with flame throwers.

2. Bad guys don’t follow laws

When it comes to weaponry, certain people believe that it’s inevitable that the “bad guys” will get their hands on them. No laws or restrictions can stop that. They use this as an argument against those laws.

We have laws to not only deter, but also prevent. If this statement were true than the rate of drunk drivers wouldn’t go up if there were no laws.

Our laws should be a reflection of our taboos, beliefs, and values. In the case of weaponry, the laws should show that we value well-trained, responsible, and safe weapon users.

1. I’m not/wasn’t/wouldn’t be hurt/offended

I’ve been guilty of this myself, but it’s extremely important that when someone tells you that your actions or words have hurt or offended them that you listen to them.

Just because I wouldn’t be hurt or offended to be called frog, doesn’t mean that others wouldn’t.

If you value the friendship of those around you then you need to value their feelings too. It’s not your place to decide what people should feel or how they should react to something.

Are there any silly arguments I missed?

Éric