[December]

It had been a long day.

After all the unpleasantness of the previous night, December had spent all of the next day setting his ruined store back into order. He hadn't even begun on his house yet. Naturally, Lovvorn had labored long and hard to replace the wards on both buildings with newer, stronger magic. The windows at the store were replaced just after dawn... at no small expense, either. New display cases would arrive in two days... all of the original ones had been smashed. Carpenters had already been called in to repair some minor structural damage, and the entire carpet would need replacing Lovvorn patched it as best he could, but the mage was no match for the destruction someone had wrought upon it.

They had been searching for something. December couldn't be certain what it was, but he was quite sure that they didn't find anything here OR at his home. He was no rank amateur, after all. Anything of interest to his enemies was either kept far from him or directly on his person at all times. However, there was the matter of the books. Zade's search of the theater revealed quite a few of December's books tucked away in one of the rooms. What did Chain want with them? Or, more precisely, what did the person who HIRED Chain want with them? December had started to regret not questioning the mercenary before killing him... but he didn't regret it very long. Whoever was behind him would either show themselves eventually, or would be content with their failure and never move against him again. In the first case, December would be ready as he always was... although perhaps a bit MORE ready than he was for Chain. In the second... there would be no shortage of new enemies to rise up and occupy his efforts. There were always new enemies. But very rarely were there old ones. December made sure of that.

One fortunate, though still unexplained turn of events was the return of the jewels that had been stolen from the store. When he arrived before dawn, the jewels were piled in the middle of the floor amid a sea of broken glass. Zade assured him that they weren't there when SHE visited earlier that night... so someone must have brought them back. Why? Certainly, with the talents of both J'Hasp and Lovvorn at his disposal, December would have eventually tracked them down on his own. But why would someone just return them?

Curious. thought December. Very curious.

Naturally, an inventory would have to be done, and to that end, December had spent most of the day at the store... counting... examining... and thinking. The sun was just touching the horizon when someone knocked on the door.

December looked up from his work to see who it was.

Theesa.

He rose and admitted her.

"I regret you must see the store in this condition," he said. He looked down into Theesa's eyes, and she looked up into his. "Are you well?"

"Physically, yes."

"You vanished this morning. I had no idea where you were."

"I had to walk. I had to get away for a while. Were you worried?"

"Yes. Were J'Hasp available I would have had him follow you... to ensure your safety."

"How is... he? It?"

"He is healing rather well."

The conversation halted... an extremely uncomfortable pause. December wanted to speak, but his experience in such things was so inadequate. He didn't want to seem like a... rank amateur. Which, of course, he was. He had long since perfected the art of being charming and charismatic on demand, but that was pretense. Practiced and polished to perfection, but pretense nonetheless. This was real. And after what had happened, he honestly had no idea what to say to her.

"Theesa, I-"

"I just don't know how to... how to BEGIN to understand it all," said Theesa. "After what I know... and then to learn that you are... that you are YOU. I just can't get my mind around it."

"As I said... there is more. Much more. The man you saw... I am no longer that man."

"But that's just it... I just can't see how. I thought I knew, but then I find out that I didn't know anything at all. Sometimes my gift can be such a curse. It brings more questions than answers."

"Can you really know a man?" said December. "Even if you learned every nuance of his past... would you really know him? Is such a thing possible?"

"So you're a philosopher now?"

"No more than you."

There was another uncomfortable pause.

"Is there something you want to say?" said Theesa.

"This man that I was... how can you be sure it is not HIM that you love. And not me."

"Because you ARE him."

"No, I am not. That man... that man was-"

"Was YOU!"

"Then you wait for his return? You wish for me to change-"

"No. Waiting for a man to change is a game that silly little girls play. I just want to understand."

"Understand, yes. But can you accept? Can you accept me for what I am now, even though you know what I once was?"

"If I couldn't, I wouldn't be talking to you now. After last night I would have run as far as my legs could carry me. But I saw you... I know what you are and I saw what you can do. I'm still right here, December. Confused... but still here."

"It is all I ask," said December. "Understanding may come in time... but until then-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"There will be secrets. Things you cannot know."

"Men have secrets. Why should you be different?"

"Mine are darker. Mine run deeper. I have seen into the hearts of many monsters... some of which still follow me to this day. For you to know the things I know..."

Theesa nodded.

"I won't like it. I won't like it at all, but I'll accept it... with one request.

"Anything."

"You... you never said that you... I mean... you never..."

"Theesa," December held Theesa's face in his cold hand. She trembled... and so did he. "I Love You."

---

[Zade]

"I'm a WHAT!?!"

Zade looked incredulously at the empty space near the rear of the alley. She knew she'd regret allowing Blaymore to lure her in here for a private talk, but she had no idea that the 'important thing' he had to tell her would be so utterly ridiculous.

"It's true." replied Blaymore's voice. As usual, assassin was invisible... and not even bothering to talk through one of his false images. "I saw it."

"You know... you've said and done some outrageous things before, but to HOUND me all damn day just to tell me that I'm a VAMPIRE!!?!?"

"Werewolf."

"WHATEVER!"

"It's true. That first night you fought Chain-"

"Oh, and NOW you have to go and bring that up. You know what... I'm leaving."

"You can run away from this! You can't run away from ME! I can follow you wherever you go. I'll keep talking until you listen to me!"

"First of all, no you CAN'T follow me wherever I go. And even if you could... we BOTH know you don't have the patience..."

"This is important, Zade. You're sick... you're VERY sick."

"I feel better than I've ever felt in my life. I don't even have a scratch on me from last night..."


"That's just it! Haven't you asked yourself WHY!?"

"Years of training and a good set of body armor. But I guess you think it's because I'm a vampire."

"WEREWOLF! You're playing GAMES with me, Zade... and this is serious!"

"Ahhh.... serious. How serious? Serious like the time you ran off and left us to die... or serious like the time you came back into my life JUST long enough to have the man I loved framed for murder and EXECUTED! Or maybe serious like the time that-"

"Zade, I'm sorry for ALL of that. I had my reasons, and if you'd ever stopped hating me long enough for me to explain-"

"EXPLAIN!!! You mean you actually think you can EXPLAIN that!"

"Yes Zade, but NONE of those things are relevant to what's going on now!"

"They were relevant to ME!"

"Yes they were... but so is this. We have to find out how this happened to you."

"WE?!? Now WHEN have I ever needed help from YOU!?"

"More times than you know."

"Did YOU do that thing with the shuriken and the rope last night? Was that YOU?!?"

"No."

"So now we're back to LYING again! GODS, Blaymore, you are SO aggravating!"

"We have to think this through... At first I thought December was responsible, but that didn't make any sense. He doesn't have the means, and even if he did, there's no motive. At least none that I can see. You must have been bitten recently... can you remember when you were around any wolves? How about Sinterbourne or Vendredi... did they have any wolves that acted strange?"

"Go to hell, Blaymore. If you weren't too much of a coward to face me, I'd send you there myself."

"Fine. Is that would it would take then? You want a shot at me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm serious. If you could take one shot at me, would you listen then?"

"If I could take one shot at you you'd be DEAD!"

"You don't mean that. As much as you hate me, we still have a bond... a connection that you can't ignore. If I were ever really in trouble you'd help me, just like I'm trying to help you."

"That bond could only stretch so far... and you destroyed it when you ran off the FIRST time."

"I don't think so, and I'll prove it. Here... take your shot."

There was a shimmering flash at the rear of the alley, and Blaymore appeared. His flowing blue cloak concealed his body, as well as the weapons he carried. A blue sash hid the bottom of his face, and the top half was swallowed by the cloak's hood. He took one step forward.... well within arm's reach of Zade.

"Hit me," he said.

"Sure," said Zade. "And as soon as my arm moves you'll be on the other side of town."

"No. You're angry, and rightfully so. But if this will enable you to listen to what I have to say, then I'll do it. I want to help you. Hit me."

"You'll turn intangible-"

"Hit me, Bethsaida."

"My NAME is-"

"Bethsaida.... the name you were born with."

"Oh, like 'Blaymore' is YOUR real name!"

"We're wasting time here, Bethsaida, now take your best sho-"

WHAM!

Zade's single punch spun Blaymore completely around and sent him flying back into the alley. He hit the wall and slid to the ground. He lay motionless, with his back propped up against the wall and his blue cloak strewn around him like a shroud.

Zade looked down at him.

"Now talk."

Blaymore didn't move.

"You never COULD take a punch," said Zade. She turned around and headed for the nearest drinking establishment. "Werewolves... yeah, right."

---

[Lovvorn]

It was just after sunset and only a few patrons had managed to wander into the Club PanDemonica. Lovvorn floated through the doorway and, hovering about a foot from the surface of the balcony, smiled at the club's greeter. Below them, the club's main floor was almost completely empty.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Lovvorn," said Leonardo. "I hear you ran into a spot of trouble last night."

"Not really," said Lovvorn. The mage was bedecked in a dull green robe, with outlandish pink and yellow trim about the collar and sleeves. He carried his thick oak staff, which was mostly for decoration since his feet weren't currently touching the floor. "Nothing at all... Although the city of Montfort simply MUST clean out their sewers. The most unpleasant things can crawl out and surprise you when you aren't looking."

"I see."

"I wish you COULD have seen... you would have enjoyed it. Has Mr. Hood scampered in yet?"

"His usual table..."

Lovvorn floated up over the balcony's metal railing and descended to the main floor... coming to rest right beside Eric Hood's table. Eric was lost in thought, nimbly twirling his dagger in the air. Lovvorn sat down, announcing himself with an exaggerated groan and a sigh.

"That man is such a slave-driver! He's had me cleaning, casting spells and sewing carpet ALL day! And me with a bum leg! Can you believe that?"

"Goes with the job." mumbled Eric.

"Well I didn't see YOU breaking your back trying to set things in order. That Chain fellow made quite a mess of things!"

Eric sat and silently twirled his dagger.

"So what's on YOUR mind," said Lovvorn after a few seconds of silence.

"Nothing."

"Well here... I brought you something. This should cheer you up."

Lovvorn reached into his robe and pulled out a small, oblong object. It was metal, and just large enough to fit into the palm of his chubby hand. It looked like the handgrip for a small knife. Lovvorn handed it to Eric, who looked at it with obvious suspicion.

"What the hell is it?" said Eric.

"A leftover from Chain's arsenal. He had some rather interesting weapons stashed away in that theater. Zade confiscated most of them, but I managed to save that one for you."

"Yeah, but that ain't tellin' me what it IS."

"Push that button on the side there."

"This one?"

*click!*

A five-inch blade swung out from the side of the handle and locked into place.

Eric's eyebrows crept up onto his forehead. Then he cracked a very small... and rare... smile.

"You push that other little thingy on the side to unlock the blade."

Eric pressed another button and folded the blade down with his hand. A second later, he pushed the first button again...

*click!*

The blade swang out once more.

"Magic?" asked Eric.

"No... just a blade with a switch."

*click!*

"I like it."

"Thought you would."

*click!*

"So are you going to tell me where you disappeared to last night?" said Lovvorn.

"What are you talking about?"

"Last night. Ambush. Arrow through the chest. You vanishing into thin air... any of that ring a bell?"

*click!*

"No."

"So what DO you remember?"

"We were attacked. The next thing I knew I was outside the theater. I went in and did one of Chain's boys and that archer. Can't remember anything in between."

"And you don't find that strange?"

*click!*

"Nope. I was hurt... must have had a memory lapse."

"Eric, you've NEVER had memory lapses before."

"Never had an arrow in my chest before, either."

*click!*

"So you just walked off and now you have no idea where you went?"

Eric shook his head.

"You know the frightening part?" said Lovvorn. "I believe you."

"Why wouldn't you?"

Lovvorn shrugged. Then he stood... actually, floated out of the chair... and quickly made his way to the bar.

"I have a rather large amount of drinking to do," he called over his shoulder. "Have fun with the knife."

"Oh, I will," replied Eric.

*click!*

"I will."

---

[Herrik & Jern]

Two men stepped onto the Montfort docks and walked along the row of boats. Despite the lengthening shadows of sunset, Jern the fisherman was leading his friend Herrik out to the small boat at the end of the dock. It looked as if they were going on a trip... except neither of them were carrying any supplies.

"...so imagine my surprise when I pulls up the net and finds THIS!" Jern reached into his boat and pulled out a small wooden box. It was rectangular, about one foot wide, six inches deep, and three inches high. The surface was smooth and unmarked, but the latch bore a large, ornate seal of some kind. There was no lock, but latch would not open when Jern pulled on it.

"What is it?"

"I dunno. I tried beatin' on it with me hammer, but she wouldn't open. Even tried to pry it open and ruined a good pocket knife. Figured it must be some magic holdin' it closed... so's I came and got you. If'n there's treasure inside we can split it fifty...uhh... fifty."

"Let me see..."

Herrik took the box and turned around in various directions, examining it.

"Hmmm..." Herrik cast a spell, and a small globe of light appeared above his head. The light was dim and yellow, but it illuminated the box well enough for him to examine it in more detail.

"Well? Can ya open it?"

"Somebody put a heavy seal on this thing... and look here..." Herrik pointed to the seal, above the latch.

"Hell, I don't know what I'm lookin' at."

"This a two-way seal. Locks both ways. More like what you'd see on a door... not a box."

"Can ya get it open?"

Herrik pulled a tiny knife out of his pants pocket and began mumbling words over the blade. The knife began to vibrate in his hand. When he touched it to the latch, a huge spark leapt from the seal to the blade, knocking it out of his hand. The knife fell into the water and vanished.

"Oops," said Herrik. Jern looked disappointed, so Herrik tried something else. "You said you had a hammer?"

"Yeah, right here..." Jern got a small mallet out of his boat and handed it to Herrik. Herrik put the box down on the dock, then mumbled a different set of words over the mallet. It began to glow.

"Stand back."

Herrik brought the hammer down on the latch...

bzZZZT!

More sparks flew, but the box still did not open. He repeated the process three more times, and on the forth try the seal broke with a loud, resounding-

POP!

And a thin wisp of smoke rose from the latch.

"Got it."

"Let's see what we got!" said Jern. The fisherman snatched open the box... revealing a tiny glass bottle. Unlike the box, the bottle was decorated with quite a few exquisite designs, none of which made any sense to either of the men. There was a thick coat of wax on the top, and another seal stamped into the cork.

"A bottle?" said Herrik

"Looks like one of them genie bottles!" said Jern. He immediately began pulling on the tiny cork.

"Now, it could be anything... it could be dangerous."

"Naw... ain't nothin ever come outta that river that hurt me! Even if it ain't a genie, I know there's SOMETHIN good inside! I just...ungh... can't get it... ungh...open..."

Not only would the cork not budge, but the wax wouldn't even chip off when Jern attacked it with his fingernails.

"Gimme that hammer!" said Jern. Jern placed the bottle on the pier and steadied it with his foot.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," said Herrik. "Maybe we should have it scryed. You know... see what's inside it without opening it-"

"Can't get no wishes from the genie 'less you let 'im out. Now gimme that damned hammer!"

Jern grabbed the hammer from Herrik's hand and began attacking the bottle.

CLANK!

CLANK!

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Jern."

"What? I'll split the wishes with ya, fifty-fifty just like I said..."

CLANK!

CLANK!

CRUNCH!

Finally, the neck of the tiny bottle broke cracked. At first nothing happened, but then the air filled with a loud buzzing sound... like hundreds of flies.

Only there were no flies around.

"I don't like this." Herrik backed away from Jern and the bottle as the buzzing noise got louder and louder. Then, a thick cloud of what appeared to be smoke burst from the broken bottle. It exploded all around them blocking out the fading sun as well as Herrik's light-globe.

"AAAAA!!"

It was pitch black for an instant, and then the 'smoke' gathered itself together in a shape. It was the shape of a man. Tall and very thin. Very, VERY thin... and bald. With claws on the end of his fingers and a mouth full of sharp fangs. The shape grew more solid and detailed, until finally it assumed its final, horrifying form...

"AAAAIIIIIGH!!!!" Jern screamed. "THAT AIN'T NO GENIE!!!"

"Hahahahahaaaa!! You foolish one tink N'Doki here to grant your wish? N'Doki more powerful dan any genie of smoke and fire... But perhaps I grant you wish for freeing me, no?"

"Nonono! Get away from me!" shouted Herrik.

"Yes... me tink I'll let ONE of you live. Now which one shall dat be, hmm?"

While Jern shivered in his boots, Herrik immediately turned and jumped head-long into the river. Though it is very difficult for a man to swim fast and scream at the same time, Herrik made a more than excellent attempt.

Jern looked up at his 'genie' and began reciting every prayer he had every learned as a child. The words were jumbled and half-remembered, but at this point Jern wasn't too concerned with accuracy. After no thunderbolts came down to smite the 'genie,' Jern tried to follow Herrik into the river...

"Yerro!"

Jern couldn't move. Not one single muscle. He was paralyzed.

"Now what shall N'Doki do wit you? Ahhh.... I lose many zombies when de man wit de chains come. I must replace dem... I start wit you, no?"

Jern couldn't even tremble any more. But at least the 'genie' had the heart to free Jern's mouth and throat so that he could scream when the clawed hands ripped into his flesh...

"AAAAIIIIIIIII......"

---

[...somewhere outside of Montfort...]

The cabin was still there, undisturbed from when Sol the Snail and his henchmen made their last stand against December's men. The bodies were still there, too... which was why the stranger made his camp outside. The stench was less than pleasant, but it seemed to fit the occasion.

He built a fire, wasting what little strength he had dragging wood out of the forest and piling it high. It took a long time to light, and even longer for the flames to build. Was it enough? Of course it was. Besides, he was too weak to gather more wood. It would have to do.

The stranger sat down on a rock and waited. He didn't wait long.

Without warning, the fire flared high... two... three... then four times its previous size. The stranger stood before the flames as they billowed upward. Sparks flew in all directions, showering him... burning him. The stranger didn't flinch.

Then the fire began to take shape. At first there were just a few curves and lines... easily explained as a trick of the eye... an optical illusion. But the lines deepened, the curves filled out... and an unmistakable image was born:

A Face.

A human face carved out of the billowing flames... stretching eight full feet from chin to forehead.

The face's eyes opened.

The stranger fell to one knee and averted his gaze. He cast his eyes to the ground, and the roaring fire reflected off of his bald head.

"What is your bidding, my lord?" he said.

"REPORT." Demanded the face. The words washed over the stranger like air from a hot forge.

"I... am sorry to report that I have failed."

"FAILED. NEED I REMIND YOU OF THE PRICE OF FAILURE?"

"No, my lord. The man is much more powerful than... than I was lead to believe. I barely escaped with my life. I had to sacrifice the changeling to get away"

"THEN THE CHANGELING SERVED ITS PURPOSE... WHICH IS MORE THAN I CAN SAY FOR YOU."

"I did find some things of interest, my lord. He has a potion that makes monsters out of men... and a library of magic stolen from-

"THESE THINGS MEAN NOTHING TO ME!!! I SEND YOU TO FIND WEAPONS OF POWER, AND YOU TELL ME OF POTIONS AND SPELLBOOKS?!?!"

"I could find nothing else, my lord. If... if you would have allowed us to kill him instead of playing these games..."

"YOU QUESTION MY ORDERS NOW, CHAIN?"

"No, my lord. I simply fail to understand... if they man is a threat, then why-"

"HE IS NOT A THREAT! I SEEK SOMETHING THAT HE HAS, AND YOU HAVE FAILED TO LOCATE IT!"

"Yes, my lord."

"AND WHAT OF THE WEAPONS I GAVE TO YOU? I CANNOT SENSE THEM."

"They are destroyed, my lord."

"IMPOSSIBLE. THE LIFE WITHIN THEM IS MY OWN CREATION. THEY ARE MERELY INERT... THEIR POWER WILL RETURN IN TIME."

"And then... when I am stronger... shall I return to your fortress?"

"NO. YOU WILL REMAIN THERE. STAY HIDDEN, AND REPORT TO ME EVERYTHING THAT DECEMBER DOES. WHEN THE TIME COMES TO STRIKE... I WILL GIVE YOU THE ORDER AND YOU WILL OBEY IT WITHOUT FAIL."

"Yes, my lord."

"YOU WILL NOT FAIL ME AGAIN, CHAIN. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes, Lord K'Sano."

The fire flared a bright, angry red and then died out entirely, leaving Chain alone in the dark. He knelt before the dying embers for a moment, and then stood. This was unexpected... he hadn't planned on surviving the report. But now he had new orders. He had work to do.

Chain walked into the woods and vanished. The last sign of his presence was the distant rattling of metal links fading away into the night.

[End]

copyright 1998, 1999 by Marc Washington (Dark Icon)