Josephus Benectus Maximilian XXXII finished chalking the lines on the floor of the bunker. Checking his work, he lit the surrounding candles with a wave of his hand, then gave Herrera a nod.
Herrera turned on his comm. "Nurse Jenkins, could you bring Raoul to bunker room 6?"
"Is he in danger?"
"I don't think so, Ashley. Joe thinks he's found a way to help. We just need him here."
Herrera carefully omitted that Joe was going to need her there as well. The reason he chose room 6 was it was where Julie stayed as well. Joe invited Julie into the complex circle of glyphs on the floor, and started focusing on his breathing, clearing his mind of outside distractions.
The nurse arrived wheeling Raoul in a wheel chair. "Put him inside the circle, Ashley," Herrera instructed. "And stay by him, just in case."
The theory was, as Nurse Jenkins was the first affected, she was the lynchpin of the school's possession. That's how Maximilian referred to it now. A possession of the school itself. Deathrage had overheard the students talking about the nurse being unable to see Etienne. This had lead them to visit with the Jesuit.
An interesting character, the Jesuit. Joe remembered their visit. The Jesuit knew things about these Loa that none of his ancestors could recall, many of them referring to Loa magic as near ineffectual hedge magic, unfit for disciplined study. None of them had gone to the source. Now, it seemed the source came here.
Joe pushed the thoughts out of his head, and refocused on his breathing. Deathrage closed the door and waited outside to make sure they weren't disturbed. Finally ready, he turned to the only other occupant of bunker room 6.
Ms. Posie never focused on casting magic, but her knowledge of nature spirits, and her abilities as a witch were going to be valuable to Joe's work tonight. She took the lid off of the cauldron she had been simmering in the corner, letting the heavy steam pour over its sides and permeate the room, building from the floor up.
Joe started chanting, starting softly and building in intensity. The mist on the floor started to swirl in the circle around the three inside. As Joe worked the threads of energy, carefully and deliberately weaving a tapestry of power and focusing it in the circle, his voice started echoing, as if he were speaking in unison with a crowd, rather than one man alone.
Herrera readied himself. His role was to fight whatever it was in case things went wrong. He watched with wary eyes as the mist continued to swirl, forming an upside-down funnel cloud in the middle of the circle. Slowly, as Joe's chanting grew in intensity, the funnel cloud began to take shape, forming arms and legs.
Joe's chanting reached a crescendo, and the mist being opened its eyes. It scanned the room like a hungry predator, and snarled. Herrera looked in its eyes, and immediately broke eye contact, focusing on its center of gravity instead. He fought a chill over what he saw, the deep, unforgiving malevolence, the reveling in death, the celebration of the last, terrible breath one took.
Joe's chanting took on a different cadence, and the three inside the circle began to writhe, as if fighting against a terrible constraint. The mist being howled in rage, its voice jarring and visceral, like fingernails clawing at the slate of a blackboard. "Miiiinnne. Giiive me what is Miiiiinnne."
Joe and the Loa began struggling for control, locked in a conflict that consumed Joe's attention wholly. Herrera watched the three begin to twitch and convulse, their faces wracked with pain. Their voices, however, were strong and clear.
"The stars spun fast. The sea turned red. The sky turned black. The rivers turned to blood. The sky turned to poison. The children cried aloud."
Over and over, they chanted, each time, their bodies contorting in greater pain. Tiny dots of light started wisping in, swirling around and around in the room.
"The stars spun fast."
Beads of sweat began to form on Joe's forehead.
"The sea turned red."
He gritted his teeth, determined not to let this terrible Loa go.
"The sky turned black."
He reminded himself of the students in danger, strengthening his resolve.
"The rivers turned to blood."
This school had been Joe's home, he had made it his place.
"The air turned to poison."
Nothing was going to upset the place Joe had come to love.
"The children cried aloud."
Herrera's voice cracked like a whip through Joe's concentration.
"Joe, it's killing them!"
He glanced over at the three people inside the circle; Raoul, Julie, Ashley. They looked as if they had collapsed on the floor, and were whimpering in pain, although their voices were strong and clear. Reluctantly, but with great frustration, Joe let go of the Loa, and it dissipated almost instantly, escaping into the night.
"Damn."
"I know, Joe.
"I had it."
"I know. But there has to be a better way. You'll find it. You're the best."
Joe smiled. "I am, aren't I?"
Herrera breathed a sigh of relief. His friend was still with him. "That's why I hired you."
Standing there, a bit stunned, they watched the three in the middle, limp and breathing heavily, as the winks of light swirled around the room.
Silent Prayer
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Etienne Mbane
- Former Member
- Posts:249
- Joined:Thu Sep 30, 2010 2:18 pm
"Just uh. Don't let them scare you. We're all freaked out, but a lot of us would still sick up for you. You're still our classmate."
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Bronka Hajjar
- Former Member
- Posts:367
- Joined:Sat Sep 11, 2010 9:49 pm
Re: Silent Prayer
Marco’s eyes opened as the sun’s first rays peeked through the warehouse skylight and unerringly found his bruised face. The glare was the least of his worries. His entire body was a mass of bruises and aches. Cracked ribs were a dead certainty and he was pretty sure his left arm was broken. A glance to the side confirmed that the rest of his crew was in even worse shape. Their bodies were strewn about the loading dock like so many rag dolls. Big Mike was in the truck, face down, his arms still wrapped around the crate of knockoff iPods he’d been unloading when disaster struck.
Marco forced himself to roll over and struggle to his knees. He heard a soft chuckle and looked up. Ten feet away, the red-garbed heroine responsible for this carnage was leaning against a pillar with her arms crossed. Her face was obscured by a scarf, but her dark eyes watched him with faint amusement.
“I see you’re awake,” she said plainly with a faint accent he thought might be French. Marco simply nodded, too frustrated to frame a spoken reply. His first job as crew-leader and a Hero had found them. Damn! He’d be lucky if they only took his crew away after this. They were just as likely to take his balls. Still, Marco had been around the block a few times and he knew the drill. There was a certain ritual to be followed when dealing with a Hero. Futile as it was, he was required to play it out.
“I don’t want any more trouble miss,” he said as politely as he could. “Is there any way we can make some kind of deal?” As he spoke, his hand was sliding slowly towards the Beretta in the back of his belt. No way was he going down without a fight.
A moment later his hand froze as the heroine’s answer sunk in.
“Sure, we can make a deal.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three hours later, Bronka was sitting on a bench across from D.H.Smith’s Jewelers examining her haul. Six assorted silver pendants with chains. It was all she could get with the cash the gangsters had been carrying. Added to Etienne’s statuette of St. Christopher, that made seven charms she’d be attempting to enchant at once. That was already pushing it.
Some might question her ethics. Using dirty money. Letting criminals escape justice. Bronka didn’t care. Saving lives was more important than busting a handful of junior punks with a truckload of counterfeit iPods. If anything, it was the customers buying the real ones who were getting ripped off.
She put the pendants back in the bag and then put the Smith’s bag into a plainer one. No need to draw attention to what she’d been doing when she snuck back into school. She had too much left to do today to stop and answer any questions.
Marco forced himself to roll over and struggle to his knees. He heard a soft chuckle and looked up. Ten feet away, the red-garbed heroine responsible for this carnage was leaning against a pillar with her arms crossed. Her face was obscured by a scarf, but her dark eyes watched him with faint amusement.
“I see you’re awake,” she said plainly with a faint accent he thought might be French. Marco simply nodded, too frustrated to frame a spoken reply. His first job as crew-leader and a Hero had found them. Damn! He’d be lucky if they only took his crew away after this. They were just as likely to take his balls. Still, Marco had been around the block a few times and he knew the drill. There was a certain ritual to be followed when dealing with a Hero. Futile as it was, he was required to play it out.
“I don’t want any more trouble miss,” he said as politely as he could. “Is there any way we can make some kind of deal?” As he spoke, his hand was sliding slowly towards the Beretta in the back of his belt. No way was he going down without a fight.
A moment later his hand froze as the heroine’s answer sunk in.
“Sure, we can make a deal.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three hours later, Bronka was sitting on a bench across from D.H.Smith’s Jewelers examining her haul. Six assorted silver pendants with chains. It was all she could get with the cash the gangsters had been carrying. Added to Etienne’s statuette of St. Christopher, that made seven charms she’d be attempting to enchant at once. That was already pushing it.
Some might question her ethics. Using dirty money. Letting criminals escape justice. Bronka didn’t care. Saving lives was more important than busting a handful of junior punks with a truckload of counterfeit iPods. If anything, it was the customers buying the real ones who were getting ripped off.
She put the pendants back in the bag and then put the Smith’s bag into a plainer one. No need to draw attention to what she’d been doing when she snuck back into school. She had too much left to do today to stop and answer any questions.
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Bronka Hajjar
- Former Member
- Posts:367
- Joined:Sat Sep 11, 2010 9:49 pm
Re: Silent Prayer
Perez Park was quieter than usual. Wind rustled the leaves and an occasional owl could be heard but the shouting and gunfire that often marred the peace of the place was pleasantly absent. The four teenagers made their way through the narrow pathways of Gaiman Woods without incident. They wandered without apparent purpose until one of them, a girl with black hair and coffee-coloured skin, finally signaled a halt.
“Here,” she said simply, pointing to a nearby picnic table.
“What do you need us to do?” asked the other girl in the party. The moonlight highlighted a pattern of light spots across her pale skin. Her dark hair was worn in a ponytail.
“Same as you always do, Jessie,” the first girl answered as she began emptying the contents of her handbag onto the table. “Feed me as much energy as you can for as long as you can. I’ll need every drop of it.”
“What about us, Bronka?” It was the taller of the two boys who spoke, with short blond hair and perfect features to match his beautiful voice. His companion was a little shorter, with longer brown hair and a peaceful expression on his face as he surveyed the surrounding woods.
“That’s a little trickier, Kai.” Bronka was arranging her assortment of objects on the tabletop as she spoke. “When we’re ready to begin, I’ll need you and Eli to submit to a linking enchantment. That will allow me to draw on your energy.”
“And then what?” Eli asked.
“And then… you sit and wait. You’ll start to feel it soon enough. Try not to fall asleep though.” Eli nodded in response. He knew he was the key. By absorbing life force from the surrounding foliage he’d be able to funnel energy to the young sorceress much longer than the others.
“So when do we start?” Jessie asked.
“Now.” Bronka finished her arrangements and looked up. “Kai, Eli, would you two please take a seat opposite me. Jessie, you can sit or stand wherever you like. Just don’t block the moonlight.” The two boys took their seats as directed. Jessie elected to remain standing a few feet behind Bronka and a little to her left.
In the middle of the table was a four inch tall silver statuette. In a circle around it were six assorted silver pendants with their chains spread out in triple loops to form individual circles around each one. Four tiny bowls made of what appeared to be a deep red porcelain completed the arrangement, one in each corner forming a box around the pendants and statue. Three pairs of eyes watched with naked curiosity as Bronka removed a plain silver flask from within her jacket and filled each bowl in turn with slow yet elegant and ritualistic motions.
“Is that wine?” Kai asked.
“Rainwater,” Bronka answered. “Boiled then frozen then thawed beneath a full moon.” Bronka completed her task and returned the flask to her jacket. Briefly she closed her eyes and concentrated. Moments later a small red glow began to emit from each of the four bowls. Opening her eyes, the sorceress allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction before turning to her attention back to her friends.
“Eli, we’ll begin with you,” she nodded towards the brown-haired boy. “All I need you to do is relax and accept what’s about to happen.”
“I understand,” he said, a look of determination on his face. “I’m ready when you are.”
Bronka nodded and then stared into Eli’s eyes. He looked back and they both remained motionless, gazes locked, for about twelve seconds. Then Bronka broke contact and turned to the other boy.
“You’re up, Kai.”
“That was it?” the blond boy asked in surprise.
“Yes. It only takes a few seconds if the target accepts the link.” Kai seemed a little uncomfortable with the idea, but he had his own reasons for being here and they required that he see this through. It took a little longer than with Eli but Bronka was able to complete the linking spell. She took a deep breath and reveled in her new feeling of power. She had at least twice her normal strength. It was invigorating, but it still wasn’t enough for what she was about to attempt.
“Hit me Jessie,” she commanded without looking back. The first burst of energy hit her before she even finished speaking. The rush almost caused her to cry out. She was sure a small moan did escape her lips, but she was beyond worrying about such things. With no time to waste, she immediately began shaping the incredible power at her disposable into the form of the spell she had created the previous week.
Raw spellcasting was a supreme test of concentration. The entire spell pattern had to be held intact in memory while each element of that pattern was individually infused with energy. The most powerful spells were actually those with the simplest patterns and the fewest elements. Such constructs were the product of Master class Adepts. Bronka, barely past her apprenticeship, required many elements to construct her spell. Empowering the pattern took almost an hour. An hour in which she was forced to direct more energy than she had ever wielded before. She would later describe it as like trying to airbrush with a firehose.
Much of the energy was wasted of course. There was no helping that. A good portion of it was used to replenish Bronka’s own reserves, drained from the effort of controlling so much power to do such delicate work. Without the constant boosts from Jessie, she’d have collapsed from exhaustion in no more than 20 minutes in. Barely half of the available energy actually made it into the pattern. Easily enough for a regular enchantment, but this spell had to be split seven ways. Would it be sufficient? There was no way to tell until the ritual was complete. It was all or nothing. If there wasn’t enough power for all seven, then none would succeed.
Finally the spell was fully empowered and Bronka was able to divert some attention to her surroundings. Jessie was sitting on the ground next to the table, her arms folded across her knees and her head bowed. A pile of empty candy wrappers lay next to her. Kai was face first on the table. With nothing but his own personal energy to offer, this had been hardest on him. Eli was up and walking about, examining some of the nearby trees. He looked to be in decent shape still, but Bronka thought the trees looked a little unhealthy.
“Are we done?” he turned and asked, possibly noticing the reduced drain on his stamina. Bronka shook her head.
“No,” she answered. “The spell is prepared and empowered. Now I use it to enchant the pendants.”
“I’m not sure the others can keep this up.” Eli looked at Kai and Jessie with some sympathy.
“I’m not done yet,” Jessie spat out. Her voice betrayed her weakness, but there was still determination in her eyes.
“Me neither,” added Kai in an even weaker voice. His head never left the table.
“You’re done, Kai,” Bronka said decisively. “I’m breaking the link. Once you’ve recovered a bit, we’ll need you to stand guard for the rest of the night.”
“Can do,” he replied, managing a weak thumbs-up. Bronka smiled and then turned to Jessie.
“Do what you can, Jessie, but don’t exhaust yourself. Eli and I should be able to finish this.” Bronka turned and smiled at Eli. “Can’t we?”
Eli smiled back and nodded. “Absolutely.”
Bronka turned her full attention back to her work. The spell pattern still held, still radiated with arcane energy. It took more energy still to hold it together. It filled her mind. Blotting out thought. Blotting out memory. It was madness to hold such a charged spell in raw memory for so long. She thought it might kill her if she tried to hold it much longer.
She continued to pull energy through her link with Eli. There was a strange feel to it. An earthy, natural feel. It felt good in a way. She worried about putting the bulk of the responsibility for powering the enchantment on him alone, but it was going to be a slower, more measured drain. He should be able to sustain these levels for the rest of the night. If not, they were screwed.
Now came the trickiest part. Concentrating on the spell pattern in her mind, Bronka slowly forced it to duplicate itself. It took a few tries, but once she was confident the copy was a perfect match, she mentally grabbed hold of it and transferred it from her mind to the silver statuette in the middle of the table. With her active spellsight she could see the pattern as a web of glowing red wires settling itself on and around the chosen vessel. The original remained in her mind, weaker now. Again she forced it to multiply, laying the new copy onto one of the six pendants.
Five more times she completed the process, each attempt more difficult as the original became weaker and less distinct. By the time all seven objects had been brought into the ritual, the pattern in her mind was less than half its original strength.
Another hour had passed while this went on. Eli had returned to the table, visibly struggling to remain awake. Kai was sitting up now, still exhausted but alert and eyeing the surrounding woods for potential dangers. Jessie was up and pacing. Every ten minutes or so she would stop and give Bronka another boost. If the effort was too much, she refused to let it show.
It was time for the final phase. All seven objects were now linked to the spell. All that remained was to bind the spell to the vessels to complete the enchantment. It was a simple task, but it required time and power. Bronka fed as much of her borrowed energy into the master spell as she could, wincing as she caught a glimpse of Eli swaying in his seat across the table. Closing her mind to the distraction, she began to push the pattern out of her mind and into the seven duplicate patterns laid before her. It was slow and it was tiring, and if the original master wasn’t strong enough to survive the seven-way split… then the entire night’s work would have been wasted.
An hour passed. Then two more. Kai and Jessie exchanged worried glances as their two friends struggled to complete the ritual. Eli was slumped against Kai’s shoulder, and the latter reluctantly gave him periodic shakes and pokes to prevent him from passing out. Bronka was almost more frightening. She hadn’t moved in over an hour. If it wasn’t for the faint red glow that continued to surround her, they might have thought that she’d passed out herself.
Finally, the young sorceress let out a soft moan and fell backwards, landing on the grass with a thud. A moment later, Eli’s eyes opened wide as the link to Bronka was suddenly broken.
“Bronka!” Kai cried out. He started to rise but Eli chose that moment to finally fall asleep, his body falling across Kai’s lap. “Jessie, check her. Is she alright?”
Jessie was already at the other girl’s side. “I think she’s okay, Kai,” she said, “still breathing anyway.”
“I’m... fine…” Bronka gasped. “Just exhausted.” With Jessie’s help she managed to get up and resume her seat at the table. “I just need a minute…”
A minute passed.
“Did it work?” Kai asked finally.
Bronka didn’t answer at once. Instead she stared at the seven silver charms sitting on the table. After a few moments she reached out and picked up one of the pendants. She closed her eyes and squeezed her hand around it. A look of concentration appeared on her face. When she finally spoke, her voice was as soft as a whisper.
“Yes.”
The group was too tired for much celebration. Jessie collected up the scattered food wrappers while Bronka swept the charms and her four bowls back into her handbag. With Kai carrying Eli, the group made their way out of the park and back to the school campus.
They never noticed the dead grass and rotting trees they left behind.
“Here,” she said simply, pointing to a nearby picnic table.
“What do you need us to do?” asked the other girl in the party. The moonlight highlighted a pattern of light spots across her pale skin. Her dark hair was worn in a ponytail.
“Same as you always do, Jessie,” the first girl answered as she began emptying the contents of her handbag onto the table. “Feed me as much energy as you can for as long as you can. I’ll need every drop of it.”
“What about us, Bronka?” It was the taller of the two boys who spoke, with short blond hair and perfect features to match his beautiful voice. His companion was a little shorter, with longer brown hair and a peaceful expression on his face as he surveyed the surrounding woods.
“That’s a little trickier, Kai.” Bronka was arranging her assortment of objects on the tabletop as she spoke. “When we’re ready to begin, I’ll need you and Eli to submit to a linking enchantment. That will allow me to draw on your energy.”
“And then what?” Eli asked.
“And then… you sit and wait. You’ll start to feel it soon enough. Try not to fall asleep though.” Eli nodded in response. He knew he was the key. By absorbing life force from the surrounding foliage he’d be able to funnel energy to the young sorceress much longer than the others.
“So when do we start?” Jessie asked.
“Now.” Bronka finished her arrangements and looked up. “Kai, Eli, would you two please take a seat opposite me. Jessie, you can sit or stand wherever you like. Just don’t block the moonlight.” The two boys took their seats as directed. Jessie elected to remain standing a few feet behind Bronka and a little to her left.
In the middle of the table was a four inch tall silver statuette. In a circle around it were six assorted silver pendants with their chains spread out in triple loops to form individual circles around each one. Four tiny bowls made of what appeared to be a deep red porcelain completed the arrangement, one in each corner forming a box around the pendants and statue. Three pairs of eyes watched with naked curiosity as Bronka removed a plain silver flask from within her jacket and filled each bowl in turn with slow yet elegant and ritualistic motions.
“Is that wine?” Kai asked.
“Rainwater,” Bronka answered. “Boiled then frozen then thawed beneath a full moon.” Bronka completed her task and returned the flask to her jacket. Briefly she closed her eyes and concentrated. Moments later a small red glow began to emit from each of the four bowls. Opening her eyes, the sorceress allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction before turning to her attention back to her friends.
“Eli, we’ll begin with you,” she nodded towards the brown-haired boy. “All I need you to do is relax and accept what’s about to happen.”
“I understand,” he said, a look of determination on his face. “I’m ready when you are.”
Bronka nodded and then stared into Eli’s eyes. He looked back and they both remained motionless, gazes locked, for about twelve seconds. Then Bronka broke contact and turned to the other boy.
“You’re up, Kai.”
“That was it?” the blond boy asked in surprise.
“Yes. It only takes a few seconds if the target accepts the link.” Kai seemed a little uncomfortable with the idea, but he had his own reasons for being here and they required that he see this through. It took a little longer than with Eli but Bronka was able to complete the linking spell. She took a deep breath and reveled in her new feeling of power. She had at least twice her normal strength. It was invigorating, but it still wasn’t enough for what she was about to attempt.
“Hit me Jessie,” she commanded without looking back. The first burst of energy hit her before she even finished speaking. The rush almost caused her to cry out. She was sure a small moan did escape her lips, but she was beyond worrying about such things. With no time to waste, she immediately began shaping the incredible power at her disposable into the form of the spell she had created the previous week.
Raw spellcasting was a supreme test of concentration. The entire spell pattern had to be held intact in memory while each element of that pattern was individually infused with energy. The most powerful spells were actually those with the simplest patterns and the fewest elements. Such constructs were the product of Master class Adepts. Bronka, barely past her apprenticeship, required many elements to construct her spell. Empowering the pattern took almost an hour. An hour in which she was forced to direct more energy than she had ever wielded before. She would later describe it as like trying to airbrush with a firehose.
Much of the energy was wasted of course. There was no helping that. A good portion of it was used to replenish Bronka’s own reserves, drained from the effort of controlling so much power to do such delicate work. Without the constant boosts from Jessie, she’d have collapsed from exhaustion in no more than 20 minutes in. Barely half of the available energy actually made it into the pattern. Easily enough for a regular enchantment, but this spell had to be split seven ways. Would it be sufficient? There was no way to tell until the ritual was complete. It was all or nothing. If there wasn’t enough power for all seven, then none would succeed.
Finally the spell was fully empowered and Bronka was able to divert some attention to her surroundings. Jessie was sitting on the ground next to the table, her arms folded across her knees and her head bowed. A pile of empty candy wrappers lay next to her. Kai was face first on the table. With nothing but his own personal energy to offer, this had been hardest on him. Eli was up and walking about, examining some of the nearby trees. He looked to be in decent shape still, but Bronka thought the trees looked a little unhealthy.
“Are we done?” he turned and asked, possibly noticing the reduced drain on his stamina. Bronka shook her head.
“No,” she answered. “The spell is prepared and empowered. Now I use it to enchant the pendants.”
“I’m not sure the others can keep this up.” Eli looked at Kai and Jessie with some sympathy.
“I’m not done yet,” Jessie spat out. Her voice betrayed her weakness, but there was still determination in her eyes.
“Me neither,” added Kai in an even weaker voice. His head never left the table.
“You’re done, Kai,” Bronka said decisively. “I’m breaking the link. Once you’ve recovered a bit, we’ll need you to stand guard for the rest of the night.”
“Can do,” he replied, managing a weak thumbs-up. Bronka smiled and then turned to Jessie.
“Do what you can, Jessie, but don’t exhaust yourself. Eli and I should be able to finish this.” Bronka turned and smiled at Eli. “Can’t we?”
Eli smiled back and nodded. “Absolutely.”
Bronka turned her full attention back to her work. The spell pattern still held, still radiated with arcane energy. It took more energy still to hold it together. It filled her mind. Blotting out thought. Blotting out memory. It was madness to hold such a charged spell in raw memory for so long. She thought it might kill her if she tried to hold it much longer.
She continued to pull energy through her link with Eli. There was a strange feel to it. An earthy, natural feel. It felt good in a way. She worried about putting the bulk of the responsibility for powering the enchantment on him alone, but it was going to be a slower, more measured drain. He should be able to sustain these levels for the rest of the night. If not, they were screwed.
Now came the trickiest part. Concentrating on the spell pattern in her mind, Bronka slowly forced it to duplicate itself. It took a few tries, but once she was confident the copy was a perfect match, she mentally grabbed hold of it and transferred it from her mind to the silver statuette in the middle of the table. With her active spellsight she could see the pattern as a web of glowing red wires settling itself on and around the chosen vessel. The original remained in her mind, weaker now. Again she forced it to multiply, laying the new copy onto one of the six pendants.
Five more times she completed the process, each attempt more difficult as the original became weaker and less distinct. By the time all seven objects had been brought into the ritual, the pattern in her mind was less than half its original strength.
Another hour had passed while this went on. Eli had returned to the table, visibly struggling to remain awake. Kai was sitting up now, still exhausted but alert and eyeing the surrounding woods for potential dangers. Jessie was up and pacing. Every ten minutes or so she would stop and give Bronka another boost. If the effort was too much, she refused to let it show.
It was time for the final phase. All seven objects were now linked to the spell. All that remained was to bind the spell to the vessels to complete the enchantment. It was a simple task, but it required time and power. Bronka fed as much of her borrowed energy into the master spell as she could, wincing as she caught a glimpse of Eli swaying in his seat across the table. Closing her mind to the distraction, she began to push the pattern out of her mind and into the seven duplicate patterns laid before her. It was slow and it was tiring, and if the original master wasn’t strong enough to survive the seven-way split… then the entire night’s work would have been wasted.
An hour passed. Then two more. Kai and Jessie exchanged worried glances as their two friends struggled to complete the ritual. Eli was slumped against Kai’s shoulder, and the latter reluctantly gave him periodic shakes and pokes to prevent him from passing out. Bronka was almost more frightening. She hadn’t moved in over an hour. If it wasn’t for the faint red glow that continued to surround her, they might have thought that she’d passed out herself.
Finally, the young sorceress let out a soft moan and fell backwards, landing on the grass with a thud. A moment later, Eli’s eyes opened wide as the link to Bronka was suddenly broken.
“Bronka!” Kai cried out. He started to rise but Eli chose that moment to finally fall asleep, his body falling across Kai’s lap. “Jessie, check her. Is she alright?”
Jessie was already at the other girl’s side. “I think she’s okay, Kai,” she said, “still breathing anyway.”
“I’m... fine…” Bronka gasped. “Just exhausted.” With Jessie’s help she managed to get up and resume her seat at the table. “I just need a minute…”
A minute passed.
“Did it work?” Kai asked finally.
Bronka didn’t answer at once. Instead she stared at the seven silver charms sitting on the table. After a few moments she reached out and picked up one of the pendants. She closed her eyes and squeezed her hand around it. A look of concentration appeared on her face. When she finally spoke, her voice was as soft as a whisper.
“Yes.”
The group was too tired for much celebration. Jessie collected up the scattered food wrappers while Bronka swept the charms and her four bowls back into her handbag. With Kai carrying Eli, the group made their way out of the park and back to the school campus.
They never noticed the dead grass and rotting trees they left behind.
-
Lorne Hazlewood
- Alumni
- Posts:1573
- Joined:Fri Sep 03, 2010 6:16 am
Re: Silent Prayer
Lorne laid in bed staring at the ceiling in his well lit room. The crying outside his door was getting louder. He slid his pillow out from under his head and pulled it down over his face but he could still hear it.
He threw the pillow at the door as hard as he could. “Why are you doing this to me?”
There was a brief pause. Then a quiet voice spoke from the other side of the door, “Help me.”
Lorne sat bolt upright in bed. The crying continued softer now. Still in his PJ’s Lorne slipped his legs from under his covers and put them in a pair of house slippers he had next to his bed. He crept over to the door and put his ear against it. “Help me,” it said again between soft cries.
Lorne froze. He looked around the room cautiously to make sure no one was there. He slowly turned the dead bolt to this door. He carefully turned the knob trying to make as little noise as possible. He flung the door open. There was nothing there.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement. The crying continued from down the hall. He followed it quietly. It was well past curfew and he didn’t want to get caught. He made it to the stairs. There was another flash of movement and the crying continued from the floor down. He went down a flight, but still it continued from the next flight down. He continued going down, down, down further and further until he reached the basement. The door was propped open slightly. He could hear the various machines that heated and cooled the building running inside. He could also hear the crying. It was very faint with the whir of the machines, but he could hear it.
He pushed the door open and crept inside the dark dank basement. The machine’s sounds were nearly deafening. He scanned the room slowly with not only his eyes but his ears. Then he spotted it. The closet where the quiet sobs were coming from. He carefully stepped towards the closet shaking. With each step he could feel his heart rising in his throat. He carefully grabbed the knob. He turned it slowly. He opened the door.
She laid there on the floor covered in rotting bandages. Only a few parts of her body were visible. bits of skin on the arms and hands, her mouth and chin. What was visible had been dead for some time. She laid there curled up in the fetal position as if she didn’t notice him. He opened his mouth to speak, “Are you OK?”
In an instant she was up inches in front of his face. “Give me!” Lorne fell backwards screaming and the door slammed shut. Mr Deathrage looked down at him and screamed, “What are you doing down here, Boy?”
Lorne jumped up. “There’s something in the closet! There’s something in the closet!”
Mr. Deathrage looked at the closet and pulled the door open. It was empty except for some cleaning supplies, “There’s nothing in here except for some cleaning supplies.”
Lorne stared at it disbelief. Mr. Deathrage yelled again, “Get back up to your room before I report you for being out after curfew!”
Lorne ran as fast as he could.
He threw the pillow at the door as hard as he could. “Why are you doing this to me?”
There was a brief pause. Then a quiet voice spoke from the other side of the door, “Help me.”
Lorne sat bolt upright in bed. The crying continued softer now. Still in his PJ’s Lorne slipped his legs from under his covers and put them in a pair of house slippers he had next to his bed. He crept over to the door and put his ear against it. “Help me,” it said again between soft cries.
Lorne froze. He looked around the room cautiously to make sure no one was there. He slowly turned the dead bolt to this door. He carefully turned the knob trying to make as little noise as possible. He flung the door open. There was nothing there.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement. The crying continued from down the hall. He followed it quietly. It was well past curfew and he didn’t want to get caught. He made it to the stairs. There was another flash of movement and the crying continued from the floor down. He went down a flight, but still it continued from the next flight down. He continued going down, down, down further and further until he reached the basement. The door was propped open slightly. He could hear the various machines that heated and cooled the building running inside. He could also hear the crying. It was very faint with the whir of the machines, but he could hear it.
He pushed the door open and crept inside the dark dank basement. The machine’s sounds were nearly deafening. He scanned the room slowly with not only his eyes but his ears. Then he spotted it. The closet where the quiet sobs were coming from. He carefully stepped towards the closet shaking. With each step he could feel his heart rising in his throat. He carefully grabbed the knob. He turned it slowly. He opened the door.
She laid there on the floor covered in rotting bandages. Only a few parts of her body were visible. bits of skin on the arms and hands, her mouth and chin. What was visible had been dead for some time. She laid there curled up in the fetal position as if she didn’t notice him. He opened his mouth to speak, “Are you OK?”
In an instant she was up inches in front of his face. “Give me!” Lorne fell backwards screaming and the door slammed shut. Mr Deathrage looked down at him and screamed, “What are you doing down here, Boy?”
Lorne jumped up. “There’s something in the closet! There’s something in the closet!”
Mr. Deathrage looked at the closet and pulled the door open. It was empty except for some cleaning supplies, “There’s nothing in here except for some cleaning supplies.”
Lorne stared at it disbelief. Mr. Deathrage yelled again, “Get back up to your room before I report you for being out after curfew!”
Lorne ran as fast as he could.
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Etienne Mbane
- Former Member
- Posts:249
- Joined:Thu Sep 30, 2010 2:18 pm
Re: Silent Prayer
With most of the children off campus, either gone home during the lockout, or off doing Karaoke, Joe had the quiet he needed to concentrate on his studies.
"Hedge magic. This stuff doesn't even work, boy," one of the ancestral voices in his head nagged.
"And yet, here it is, attacking my home."
His admonishment silencing his ancestors so he could work, he returned to the notes he had taken. Of course, Mr. Bocor couldn't be trusted, but he had no choice. He was the only one that could be found with knowledge of this.
Finally, he decided he had everything in order. Knowing Herrera wouldn't necessarily approve, he decided to wait until he was off campus. Most of the faculty were. That made now the safest time to try.
He lit the candles, made from pig tallow, and used them to burn the tail feathers from a black rooster. With a carefully sterilized knife, he cut a long line in his thumb, and let six drops fall into the bone bowl in front of him. Into the blood he ground, with an iron pestle, dried tobacco leaves that had been soaked in rum.
If this worked, Joe would have bound this Loa to him long enough for him to break the connection between the Loa and Ashley and the children.
His mind drifted, wondering when he had started thinking of Nurse Jenkins as Ashley, instead of more formal terms. Concentrating, he moved his focus back to the matter at hand.
Something nagged at the back of his mind. He remembered the Jesuit, Father Michael Archangelus, warned him about mixing this kind of magic, houghan juju he had called it, with anything human.
Again, Joe pushed those thoughts aside, dismissing them as superstition, figuring he could handle whatever happened.
As the spell took root a black mist started forming against the floor. Slowly, it coalesced around Joe, gathering around him like a blanket, or a straight jacket. His mind reached out to the Loa in command, and as it brushed against Joe's consciousness, Joe recoiled.
Underprepared for the impact of experiencing one thing as every human being has, is and ever will experienced just one small piece of the human experience, he had to fight not to lose himself to aspect of the Loa.
Too late, he realized the import of the Jesuit's warning. As the Loa touched his mind, he felt something foul, oily and fetid seeping into his soul. Under normal circumstances, Joe would fight off the invasion, but this was going down a dark path with willful intention. Suddenly, Joe understood everything. What the Loa wanted, what he meant, what he was looking for, and why. It all made sense.
***
Hours later, as the children were returning from curfew, Mr. Deathrage found Joe in his study, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Joe looked up.
"I know why they children cry. I know why they cry!"
Deathrage sighed, and dragged the babbling body of Joe to the infirmary, being met there by Nurse Jenkins and Herrera.
Herrera sighed, "What have you done, Joe. I warned you about Bocor."
"I know. I know, I know, I know!"
"Make sure he stays safe, Ashley."
Nurse Jenkins nodded, settling him one of the overnight beds.
"I know why!"
Nurse Jenkins spent the night in the infirmary with Joe, holding his hand through the night.
"Hedge magic. This stuff doesn't even work, boy," one of the ancestral voices in his head nagged.
"And yet, here it is, attacking my home."
His admonishment silencing his ancestors so he could work, he returned to the notes he had taken. Of course, Mr. Bocor couldn't be trusted, but he had no choice. He was the only one that could be found with knowledge of this.
Finally, he decided he had everything in order. Knowing Herrera wouldn't necessarily approve, he decided to wait until he was off campus. Most of the faculty were. That made now the safest time to try.
He lit the candles, made from pig tallow, and used them to burn the tail feathers from a black rooster. With a carefully sterilized knife, he cut a long line in his thumb, and let six drops fall into the bone bowl in front of him. Into the blood he ground, with an iron pestle, dried tobacco leaves that had been soaked in rum.
If this worked, Joe would have bound this Loa to him long enough for him to break the connection between the Loa and Ashley and the children.
His mind drifted, wondering when he had started thinking of Nurse Jenkins as Ashley, instead of more formal terms. Concentrating, he moved his focus back to the matter at hand.
Something nagged at the back of his mind. He remembered the Jesuit, Father Michael Archangelus, warned him about mixing this kind of magic, houghan juju he had called it, with anything human.
Again, Joe pushed those thoughts aside, dismissing them as superstition, figuring he could handle whatever happened.
As the spell took root a black mist started forming against the floor. Slowly, it coalesced around Joe, gathering around him like a blanket, or a straight jacket. His mind reached out to the Loa in command, and as it brushed against Joe's consciousness, Joe recoiled.
Underprepared for the impact of experiencing one thing as every human being has, is and ever will experienced just one small piece of the human experience, he had to fight not to lose himself to aspect of the Loa.
Too late, he realized the import of the Jesuit's warning. As the Loa touched his mind, he felt something foul, oily and fetid seeping into his soul. Under normal circumstances, Joe would fight off the invasion, but this was going down a dark path with willful intention. Suddenly, Joe understood everything. What the Loa wanted, what he meant, what he was looking for, and why. It all made sense.
***
Hours later, as the children were returning from curfew, Mr. Deathrage found Joe in his study, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Joe looked up.
"I know why they children cry. I know why they cry!"
Deathrage sighed, and dragged the babbling body of Joe to the infirmary, being met there by Nurse Jenkins and Herrera.
Herrera sighed, "What have you done, Joe. I warned you about Bocor."
"I know. I know, I know, I know!"
"Make sure he stays safe, Ashley."
Nurse Jenkins nodded, settling him one of the overnight beds.
"I know why!"
Nurse Jenkins spent the night in the infirmary with Joe, holding his hand through the night.
"Just uh. Don't let them scare you. We're all freaked out, but a lot of us would still sick up for you. You're still our classmate."
-
Elijah Elliot
- Former Member
- Posts:994
- Joined:Sun Nov 21, 2010 11:39 am
Re: Silent Prayer
Perez Park was one of Eli’s favorite places in the city. The trees and bushes were allowed to grow freely, and there was no Devouring Earth presence here. Sure, you had to be careful to avoid the homeless, the gangs, the snot monsters, the zombies, and the wind-up robots. But the energies he found in Perez were worth a bit of risk. The flora here were fairly “happy” and their energies reflected that. For Eli’s empathic senses, Perez was like an ocean of calm contentment.
He was following one of the narrow paths in Gaiman Woods. As he walked, he drew energy from the trees he passed, supercharging himself with life energy. He didn’t draw much from any single tree; a bit here, a bit there. The trees would hardly miss what he took. If life energy were water, then trees would be large ponds or even lakes, and Eli was only siphoning energy off by the cupful. Grown, mature trees were an enormous source of energy, more than he’d once thought he could possibly ever use.
He found his way to the small clearing where it had been proven that he could, in fact, find a use for all the energy in a tree. He took a seat on the picnic table and closed his eyes, letting his senses open more fully. He felt for the smaller stuff first: grass, weeds, flowers. Those sorts of plants had a very different kind of energy from trees. If a tree was a lake of calm, deep water, then a flower was a shot glass filled with sparkling water that caught the light just so. They had much, much less energy, but that energy was far more fluid and dynamic. There was nothing in the area around the picnic table; that grass had been completely killed. But off at the edges of where he’d pulled from, he could sense some life. As spring arrived, that life would flourish and spread further into the clearing. He didn’t need to worry about fixing that.
He opened his eyes and got off the table. He might as well get to work.
The nearest few trees to the table were the worst. Two of them weren’t salvageable, and another four were borderline. Nine more were drained significantly, but should recover on their own in time. And then there were a few dozen more in the area that had only been drained moderately. Those weren’t even worth worrying about; they’d be back to normal by the end of spring, if not sooner.
He put his hand on the first unsalvageable tree and delved with his senses. He knew it was pointless, and further, it was absurd to have a strange sense of sentimentality over a tree he hadn’t even known existed prior to that night. But each time he came here, he did so. He delved one, and then the other, letting himself remember.
The night was wearing on. How long had Bronka been working? It had to have been hours. Long hours. He was struggling to focus, to stay awake. How much energy had passed through him? How much more to go? One of the two trees he was pulling from was so dim, nearly drained. He fumbled, trying to pull from a tree further away, but couldn’t quite do it. It was too far, and he was too tired. He’d just have to keep using the closer trees. And stay awake. He had to stay awake.
He didn’t remember draining either of these two completely, but he had. He’d killed them.
He put his hand on one of the borderline trees and delved. It was still alive, but its energy was so weak. It was like a lake reduced to mud. As he had done on his few previous visits, Eli began trickling energy into the tree, carefully using it to reinforce the energy already there. There was no way that he could possibly replenish all the energy he had taken. Instead, he bolstered what was already there, trying to strengthen the tree so that it could recover on its own. He’d learned a lot working in the greenhouse and at the hospital. There was a lot more he could do with life energy besides just dump it in something. With a careful touch, a small amount of energy could be leveraged to great effect. If these trees were to survive, he’d have to apply some major leverage.
Two hours and four trees later, Eli was done for the day. His energy levels were extremely low, but he’d replenish them from trees on his way out. There was a lot of work to be done here yet, but he’d be back. Shortened Breath wasn’t going to destroy any more lives than it already had, not even those of trees.
He was following one of the narrow paths in Gaiman Woods. As he walked, he drew energy from the trees he passed, supercharging himself with life energy. He didn’t draw much from any single tree; a bit here, a bit there. The trees would hardly miss what he took. If life energy were water, then trees would be large ponds or even lakes, and Eli was only siphoning energy off by the cupful. Grown, mature trees were an enormous source of energy, more than he’d once thought he could possibly ever use.
He found his way to the small clearing where it had been proven that he could, in fact, find a use for all the energy in a tree. He took a seat on the picnic table and closed his eyes, letting his senses open more fully. He felt for the smaller stuff first: grass, weeds, flowers. Those sorts of plants had a very different kind of energy from trees. If a tree was a lake of calm, deep water, then a flower was a shot glass filled with sparkling water that caught the light just so. They had much, much less energy, but that energy was far more fluid and dynamic. There was nothing in the area around the picnic table; that grass had been completely killed. But off at the edges of where he’d pulled from, he could sense some life. As spring arrived, that life would flourish and spread further into the clearing. He didn’t need to worry about fixing that.
He opened his eyes and got off the table. He might as well get to work.
The nearest few trees to the table were the worst. Two of them weren’t salvageable, and another four were borderline. Nine more were drained significantly, but should recover on their own in time. And then there were a few dozen more in the area that had only been drained moderately. Those weren’t even worth worrying about; they’d be back to normal by the end of spring, if not sooner.
He put his hand on the first unsalvageable tree and delved with his senses. He knew it was pointless, and further, it was absurd to have a strange sense of sentimentality over a tree he hadn’t even known existed prior to that night. But each time he came here, he did so. He delved one, and then the other, letting himself remember.
The night was wearing on. How long had Bronka been working? It had to have been hours. Long hours. He was struggling to focus, to stay awake. How much energy had passed through him? How much more to go? One of the two trees he was pulling from was so dim, nearly drained. He fumbled, trying to pull from a tree further away, but couldn’t quite do it. It was too far, and he was too tired. He’d just have to keep using the closer trees. And stay awake. He had to stay awake.
He didn’t remember draining either of these two completely, but he had. He’d killed them.
He put his hand on one of the borderline trees and delved. It was still alive, but its energy was so weak. It was like a lake reduced to mud. As he had done on his few previous visits, Eli began trickling energy into the tree, carefully using it to reinforce the energy already there. There was no way that he could possibly replenish all the energy he had taken. Instead, he bolstered what was already there, trying to strengthen the tree so that it could recover on its own. He’d learned a lot working in the greenhouse and at the hospital. There was a lot more he could do with life energy besides just dump it in something. With a careful touch, a small amount of energy could be leveraged to great effect. If these trees were to survive, he’d have to apply some major leverage.
Two hours and four trees later, Eli was done for the day. His energy levels were extremely low, but he’d replenish them from trees on his way out. There was a lot of work to be done here yet, but he’d be back. Shortened Breath wasn’t going to destroy any more lives than it already had, not even those of trees.
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