name: sasha-alexzandre oberon d’na barbaroi
tribe/clan/lineage: kecsh-morrhkiye
age: 20 by human standards
homecoming to the earth realm: summer 2008
underworld year: 10200, in the 1st year under Empress Eshalyne Atrayus
race: torshka-barbaroi

format: draft

we begin with sasha traveling…

He was tired. So tired. But he knew that he couldn’t stop moving. In the strange predawn light cold winds bite at him for it seems he had wandered right into the path of a wandering snow storm. Blue black clouds writhed, seethed, above his head and he pulled the thick fur lined hood of his parka closer, adjusting the two packs on his back.

Somehow they seemed to grow heavier with each step he took. Damn the forest’s heartier terrain, he thought, as he pushed onward through thick underbrush. But it was better than trying to maneuver through the barren plains.

A complete white out on an open barren plain nearly swallowed him whole hours earlier, sending his sense of direction into a blind dance of confusion when he lost sight of practically all landmarks for a span of six hours.

Despite the more taxing terrain the forest helped give him a sense of direction again and also gifted him with a bit more visibility since what was left of the foliage deflected much of the wildly drifting snow flurries. Steadily, he picked his way along, trying to set aside the nagging aches and pains that pulled at every fiber of his being.

It had been three days since he’d slept. Three days without stopping.

His bags had been packed with only the essentials, just what he needed and nothing else. Everything had happened so fast. Looking back on it, it was as if everything happened in but the blink of an eye. And here he was: Tired, lonely & fiercely angry deep down on the inside.

He wanted to stop going. Every part of his body wanted to stop going. But he once again managed to fight off the seduction of sleep…At least for a little while longer.

An amulet hung from his neck. It was fashioned of a beautiful green stone that had been smoothed and buffed into a tear drop shape. Practically perfect, it was about the size of a peach pit and at one time it had glowed very brightly against his chest. But as he traveled it grew dimmer and dimmer for the enchantment placed upon it became weaker with each passing moment.

Resting against his bare chest, it dangled from a fine silver chain and looked much like many a simple jade stone now. If one where to give it a simple cursory glance, one would never guess at its true purpose. Far from being just some pretty piece of jewelry, it was actually a key of sorts. And not just any key but something more akin to a passport that allowed passage not only between countries, but between the parallel realms of reality.

Sasha’s passport had the unfortunate caveat that it would expire in around 24 hours. It only allowed for a certain number of jumps between realms for a certain allotment of time. And he had not the power necessary to recharge the amulet himself nor could he seem to find anyone willing to do so for him.

So Sasha Alexzandre kept moving since his time was running out.

He knew he was fairly close to the pathway that would lead to the earth realm gate, the wormhole known as the “Tesh-Gyann Halo”: the area where the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest. So thin that a human being could pass right through it, from one realm to another.

He carried a map with him that pointed the way and his mistress has also gifted him with a few other guiding instruments. One of the most important being a staff that worked as a kind of dowsing rod, that made the most beautiful sound whenever he honed in on the exact point of “pushing through” from one realm to another.

On his map, the realm that currently taxed his will was marked “The Torgo-Farphen-dehll”, which somehow translated to “lovely flower” in the native vernacular. As far as Sasha was concerned it was an absolutely abysmal place and damn near one of the most wretched hell holes he’d had the displeasure of being subjected to yet.

Populated by all manner of uncivilized beast, he had beaten back everything from naked lycanthropes to screaming bandit minotaurs. He had had his fill and the only silver lining to the entire situation was that he knew this despicable place was nestled right up against the realm into which he needed to go to: the Earth Realm. Any other routes, though safer, would have added days to his journey and there was no affording days of meandering.

So much forest. Such thick trees. So far the forest had been kind to him for some reason. He guessed it had something to do with one of the many bracelets of charming his mistress had weighed him down with before frantically shoving him out of the side door of the small manor house in which they had resided.

All of his trained senses knew things were lurking about in the forest. The glow of many eyes blinked about him in the shadows just beyond his reach, yet they did not attack him. It was quite the relief considering nothing else in the outer wilds of the land had been so kind to him. But the forest was different.

When he hit the next small clearing he stopped for a moment. The storm seemed to be taking a momentary break and he wanted to take advantage before sojourning on.

Pushing his parka hood back, he paused and took a deep breath. Shaking his hair of snow he pulled the packs from his back and stretched his muscles a bit. He took a swig from his water skin, and spoke quickly the words of a strong warding spell. It seemed the shadows pushed back a few paces, but Sasha didn’t let himself relax. Chewing a small piece of cured rabbit, almost the last of his food rations, he flashed a bit of his extended canine teeth to make further a point to those still-lurking shadows in the snowy gloom. Thrusting his staff into the ground, he then leaned against it and took stock of his surroundings.

In all realms, such signs are noted, for vampires seldom make easy prey. Especially the day walking kind. Stinking of out-world magics, not to mention blood, rage and desperation, Sasha turned around in a slow circle and made it known that he was still very capable of playing the wolf: ready to spring at any moment.

After quickly rearranging articles in his backpacks, donning a lighter coat and re-adjusting his ward runes and charms, he eyed his maps again and checked a few of his instruments. A special compass, called a Tezsla Bloom, had been set to calibrate the precise direction of the Earth realm. Beneath its domed cap a series of interlocking spinning metal rings floated. Etched onto the face of the rings were a variety of glowing bars and dots. They blipped out in a dazzle of multi colors, but the particular bar that interested him was glowing bright blue and pointing him due north. Pulling the staff from the ground he brushed his foot to conceal the blemish it had left in the snow and took off at the pace of a brisk jog. Time was wasting away and he knew it.

His worst fear was not getting to the gateway in time despite having come so far. He was pretty sure the bounty hunters sent by the townspeople of Corith-Ayden were three to four realms behind him by now, so that offered him the joy of one less thing to worry about..

Sasha knew the mercenary types well and he knew they’d only chase a rabbit so far. Especially when that rabbit could walk between the realms, a feat generally considered to be exorbitantly priced monetarily if one paid for the service and magically if one performed the act via spell-crafting or alchemy. The last thing they accounted for in their budget was that Sasha would be gifted with a prized amulet of passage that would get him farther than they’d ever have guessed to a realm they never would have imagined he’d seek refuge in, having no idea the lines of influence that had fanned like broad spokes from his once beautiful and vibrant benefactor, Sophia Gamorah D’Na Barbaroi.

Thanks to the mercenary raids, bandit types now had the unlikely business savvy of knowing when the expenses entailed in pursuit outweighed the bounty reward quoted.

Yes, he knew much. Before he’d exited the lands of Corith-Ayden he had found out the mercenaries had been specifically paid to kill his benefactor, the high witch Sophia, and to see to it that that the town’s little vampire/warlock/witch’s apprentice problem was also made to disappear.

For any bounty hunter worth his salt, when it comes down to making something “disappear” they can be just as happy being liberal with their definition of the word “disappear”.

Liberal meant still getting paid and simply feeding an easily believable lie to the magistrate that Sasha Alexzandre had been killed while fleeing them along steep mountain cliffs. His body plunged down thousands of feet into a void and hence the good townsfolk could rest assured their little problem had indeed disappeared forever. Never to return….at least until the next crop of problems bloomed and they decided who next to blame for their hardships…other than themselves or inevitable ugliness that nests within the aftermath of war.

Just thinking on it all made his pace quicken and he pulled at a last reserve of energy he hadn’t realized was even still within him. He sighed to himself as he moved along and spat on the ground as a sour taste filled his mouth for but a brief moment as he thought about all that he’d experienced thus far: The townspeople of Corith-Ayden could definitely rest assured that Sasha had no intentions of ever setting foot amongst them again.

For hours he pushed himself relentlessly without stopping. The staff was humming, a sound like strange wind chimes getting louder and louder. The snow was still falling about him in huge drifts and the wind seemed to grow colder. The forest was thinning out and he could see through it here and there. Finally, he came to an odd clearing and something completely unexpected greeted him.

It did indeed come off as strange, as if the seemingly wild forest had a perceivable and blazingly distinct border, like it were manicured almost. There was a thick break; a long strip of green lawn stretching to his right and to his left for as far as his eyes could see in both directions. It was maybe three acres wide with the grass cut short as if by a machine. Looking across the odd expanse, there was an amazing wall of trees far taller than the trees in the forest behind him.

It was the outer hem of another arboreal forest looming up, it seemed, as if into clouds themselves. Monstrous oaks, redwoods, willows and pines.

The sounds of the forest— the bird calls and odd animal noises, came to a halt as Sasha stepped onto the strangely shorn expanse of green. Silence surrounded him and it unnerved him like unto a new madness he had yet to imagine for he would have never expected it.

He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep, to rest and the spot where he stood suddenly seemed all too perfect. Perfect, quiet and safe. Just the right place to take a nap. No more snow and cold. Just perfect dry green grass and a new sky of amber clouds roiling above. And it was sunny in the void. He wondered at what things could befall him while napping in the “in-between”. But the staff began to hum louder and louder, breaking his reverie and reminding him to move forward. Ever forward. He picked up his heavy feet then and did just that. Step by step he made his way towards the ghostly aboretum that dawned before him.

Suddenly, it felt as if he were being pulled and it was a feeling he couldn’t resist. The amulet of passage was hot against his chest and getting hotter by the minute to the point of burning. He could see before him an odd bit of sparkle coming from the opening into the forest’s wall. A unlikely sign, appearing to made of gingerbread, stood by the gap and it neatly read “Tesh-Gyann” in slick black print.

He approached and as his foot went over the threshold it seemed gravity fell out of fashion for just a little while…. And the world went very dark and seemed to spin on a crazed axis.

—————–

When next Sasha pulled himself together he found himself holding onto a tree. The great willow helped him remain upright until he bent to wretch forth his last meal into a pile of damp leaves. The air was damp and the temperature was somewhere around fifty degrees warmer than expected. It was summer time in the Earth realm, which likening even the breeze to the heat of a great brick oven.

Assessing his surroundings, he pealed off his coat and cleaned up a bit with water from a nearby stream. His stomach finally settled, he brought forth the Teszla Bloom and found the blue bars for the earth realm were now green: he had finally arrived. The Teszla Bloom’s dials and bars now pointed the way to the House of Viollet.

Walking slowly, he passed a sign that read “Welcome To The Shadow Wood” another sign further ahead had two smaller signs tacked to its face. One pointed west and read “The Goblin Market” the other pointed east and read “The Bane Woods”. He consulted his compass again and decided to head due North.

Over the course of an hour or so he began to feel his clothing drying out, the last dampness of snow disappearing completely. His heart had calmed its pace just a little too and it seemed his head was only wrapped in a dizzy spell once in a while instead of constantly.

The amulet of passage still gave off a glow but the light was fading away quickly. He took note that darkness was fast approaching and he wanted terribly to be inside some form of shelter before it fell completely.

Tired of fighting things off, he knew his energy reserves were completely depleted. He had just enough energy for walking and that was about it. His wards and sigils were still working, and though he perceived the scurry of things in the brush, nothing approached him to cause harm.
His mind wandered for a moment and a new anxiety tried to nip at him: what if Lady Viollet turned him away. What if the boon she owed his mistress was long forgotten thanks to the passage of the vast amounts of time.

High Magicians called their lifespans “Spiral Paths” and they are long, these spans, casting across hundreds or even thousands of years. Lady Viollet was said to be some four hundred “Spirals”old, though she appeared a young woman somewhere in her twenties. Her love affair with his benefactor was some fifty to sixty years behind her, a span long enough to encompass forgetting. The idea that Lady Viollet would laugh him out of the door, now caused a panic to prickle his skin & make him forget about how sore his feet were. He tried to push the idea away, but it now began to nag. But he knew of her. She had a reputation for accepting talented creatures into her coven, especially those skilled in unusual and exotic arts. Sasha’s skills had been honed to fine point for some ten years in the care of Lady Sophia and she had been known for her mastery of dark arts from almost every realm. He had a feeling this fact alone would be his salvation if all else failed.

Just as he was tempted to stop and break, he smelled something he hadn’t smelled in some great amount of time: cooking food. Lamb stew to be precise. With rosemary…and potatoes…and carrots….and cabbage…and so many things. The smell of spices seemed to fill the air suddenly, and he followed it, once again feeling as if a force were literally pulling him along to exactly where he need to go.

Sounds made their way to his ears…and not the sound of animals, but the sounds of people. The beautiful sounds of living beings: laughter, talking, singing. He could feel his heart swelling and then lights appeared ahead.

A strange and lovely light, it shone a wonderous bright blue-green. As he moved onward he realized two tall lamps sat on either side of a keyhole shaped doorway and materializing beyond the doorway was a four story Victorian clad in bright blue with lovely green trim. It’s surroundings were lush and in full bloom. All roses, wisteria, tulips and poppies nodding heavy heads in the breeze.

Making his way to the door he was bathed in more bright light. He collected his thoughts and straightened his clothing in an attempt to look somewhat a semblance of his dignified self. Raising his hand, he hesitated for a breath then knocked upon the door four times.

A dizzy spell passed through him again for he realized that the ornate plate above the door actually confirmed his hopes. It read “The House of Viollet”.

After a moment he heard the patter of bare feet and the door opened ever so slowly. Standing before him was a petite woman-child of an origin he had never seen before: a Blythe, to be exact (he would later be informed). Rather large eyes sat within a rather large head, her hair was raven black and she had the body of a woman dressed in a lovely long blue sun dress. He found her to be quite the strange beauty and managed to smile and she followed suite.
The woman-child, large blue eyes friendly and curious, spoke first:

“Hello, how might I help you?” Tangee Miette questioned.

“My name is Sasha Alexzandre Oberon d’na Barbaroi and I..urgently request an audience with the lady of the house. I bear a letter of introduction from my lady benefactor, Mistress Sophia d’na Barbaroi, once a close companion of the Madame Viollet,” Sasha answered.

He reached into a side pocket of his pack and pulled out two wax sealed letters which he quickly handed to Tangee for inspection.

She took them into her small hands before speaking. “I am Tangee Miette of the Blythe, Sir d’na Barbaroi, and keeper of our lady’s schedule and all appointments. Do you have an appointment with Lady Viollet by chance?”

Sasha slid the heavy packs from his back and managed to fumble another smile before coughing. “No, Ms. Miette, things have culminated in such a way that I was unable to send a proper request for appointment before leaving my lands. Things happened very quickly. Very…bad things. So my mistress prepared correspondences that I should present upon my arrival—In the hopes that it would suffice considering the history she and your Lady Viollet share.”

“I see,” Tangee answered, nodding.

She could now see the pure weariness that licked all around him and dared use her own powers to divine that hard memories of blood, tears and fire lurked just beyond Sasha’s bright green eyes.

“Yes, do come in and have a seat here in the foyer and we will see what we can do.” She spoke in a gentle tone.

Sasha emerged into a reception area richly decked in a peach colored stucco, Ersian rugs and tapestries. Two overstuffed couches flanked the front doors, nestled next to tall house plants and octagon shaped end tables. Honeyed candle light set the room to a wondrous glow from candelabra set high into nine foot ceilings. Frankincense burned somewhere, filling the room with its almost soporific aroma.

Mallick suddenly appeared at the other end of the foyer corridor. His manner of dress casual, consisting of a black silk shirt and loose trousers, he allowed his hands to slip into his pockets as he surveyed the room. A look of concern passed over his eyes as he glanced Sasha wearily taking a seat on a small couch, setting his bags on the floor at his feet. He could perceive the waves of fatigue that rippled from the young man and he also sensed pain, fear and trepidation. He made his approach through the arched doorway slow, in an attempt to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Tangee, sensing Mallick’s arrival, turned to smile up at him. She relayed the situation details to him and he nodded politely to Sasha as she handed the parchment letters of introduction to him.

“We will present these to our mistress at once and will return to you shortly.” He stated. He and Tangee then disappeared down the hallway making haste for the receiving parlor of one Lady Morigan-Ehdeana d’na Viollet.

Lady Morigan sat upon a large chaise lounge. Dressed in a simple off-shoulder gown of clinging red silk, she was all the vision of a lovely young woman of no more than 28 years or so. She was a petite creature, gifted with a small waist thanks to years of corset wearing, yet cursed with the body height of a fifteen year old human female (something she was actually a bit miffed about). She wore her hair center parted in long black waves tumbling midway down her back and a thin silver circlet haloed round her forehead. Morigan’s skin was the color of creamed coffee and her eyes seemed to burn two different shades throughout her day: a firey gold or a key lime green.

The receiving parlor was modest; peach stucco, hardwood floors and Ersian rugs again. A kind of special fairy light lit the room brightly via floating glass spheres placed strategically about the room. The chaise lounge was a covered in a champagne colored velveteen and directly across from it was a small arm chair of the same shade and material. A heavy armoire stood in one corner along with a couple of small tables and an array of tall house plants.

Morigan held in her lap a large tome of off-world majick and to her left lay an array of tarot cards. Her feet were bare, for she loved the feel of Ersian rugs under her toes. Just as she began tapping at one tarot card in particular, Tangee and Mallick entered the room.

“Hello, my doves; the expressions you both wear speak of trouble,” Morigan spoke, voice soft, her eyes flickering over the pages of the book in her lap again.

Mallick approached first and handed her the two parchment letters. “Well, my lady, someone is requesting an audience with you.”

“At this hour?” Morigan quizzed, a bit skeptical yet amused.

“Urgently, for that matter.” Mallick continued, “He, one Sasha Alexzandre Oberon d’na Barbaroi, has no appointment, yet bears these letters of introduction from his benefactor whom he states was once close companion of yours: Sophia Gamora d’na Barbaroi.”

Morigan looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat for a moment. Tearing open the first of the letters she read over it quickly then moved to the second. Once done reading her hand slowly went to her mouth. Mallick drew near to her, brow furrowing as he could see a sadness washing over her.

“What is wrong, my lady?” He questioned.

She reached for Mallick’s hand. “My Sophia…Goodness. Goodness this is so much. No wonder I can feel his exhaustion from here. He’s been traveling non-stop between realms for days. Dear heavens: Yes….yes, send him in, I would see him immediately, Mallick.”

Mallick quickly left and Tangee looked to her Lady for instructions. Morigan sighed and then smiled upon one of the first creatures she ever took into her home so many moons ago.

“He seeks refuge?” Tangee questioned.

“Yes,” Morigan answered, “that he does. Remember when I told you to prepare room 13 three days ago? Is it done?”

“Yes, of course.” Tangee answered thinking upon it. “Just as you asked, the room was completed yesterday.”

“Good.” Morigan answered tapping the tarot cards at her side again with one neat fingernail. “Go now and see to it that a bath is drawn for him.” Tangee nodded and quickly went to tend to her duties without question.

Making his way back to the foyer, Mallick approached Sasha with a warm smile. “Sasha Alexzandre, the mistress has agreed to an audience with you.”

Hardly believing he had gotten this far, Sasha could barely think as he rose from his seat.

“Would you like me to take your bags?” Mallick questioned.

“No, no. It’s fine,” Sasha replied. “ I have gifts for Mistress Viollet. I don’t mind carrying them. I’ve been carrying them a long time it seems. A bit longer won’t make much of a difference.”
“Then let us not delay further.” Mallick nodded and lead the way to the receiving parlor. Graceful hands turned two crystalin door knobs, “I present to our lady.”

Sasha felt his breath catch in his throat as the parlor doors were opened and he beheld the Lady Morigan Viollet for the first time.

He did not know where to start with all he had to say, and it seemed the basic skills of proper sentence structure left his mind as he looked into the gold intensity of her eyes. Her mouth formed into a sweet smile as he approached. Sasha quickly averted his gaze for he could actually feel his face beginning to blush as he drew closer to an armchair across from the chaise lounge on which she sat.

He set his packs behind the chair and watched as she stood, her every movement seeming to drip with grace and sensuality. Approaching her slowly he gingerly took her hand in his as she presented it to him. Without hesitation he knelt before her, kissing her hand.

“I am Sasha Alexzandre Oberon d’na Barbaroi and I thank you for granting me this audience on such short notice. I beg your forgiveness for intruding at this hour,” he spoke, almost breathless.

Morigan, her face a picture of calm serenity, placed her free hand beneath the young man’s chin and lifted his face so she could stare into his eyes.

“Sasha…” She breathed his name and her voice seemed to pass right through every fiber of his being. He shuddered involuntarily for she was standing close enough to him that the smell of her exotic perfumes filled his head in an almost hallucinatory fashion, causing all things in the room to give a faint glow.

She brushed a shock of black hair from his forehead. “You need not kneel before me and you have slighted me in no way that requires me to forgive something. So please rise and take a seat please,” she stated, her voice warm and rich to his ears. He rose quickly and took the seat across from her as she herself sat down upon the chaise again.

“Now, let us forgo meaningless banter: speak to me of what culminated in the town of Corinth-Ayden,” Morigan intoned.

Sasha took a deep breath, looking to the table at his side he noted a glass of iced absinthe that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Taking it in his hand he took far too large a gulp, but he reveled in the burn that scorched his insides with a sweet licorice fire. It seemed the most delicious thing he’d drank in days.

“Where to begin?” He said at almost a whisper.

“The beginning,” She answered simply.

He began: “After the mercenary raids a few years back, things became very different in the town. Everything became different. The very people themselves became different. Desperate and ignorant, they sought to blame others for problems they brought upon themselves. It mattered not that Sophia and I trained all the new doctors in the town, helped with the distribution of medicines and with the farming…All kinds of things we helped with…With majick.” His voice wavered a bit, yet he was determined to maintain a some sense of calm. “She practically founded that town two hundred years ago…So of course she cared a great deal for the welfare of all those that inhabited it.”

He felt as if he were about to raise his voice a bit, but he brought down his tone and pulled an Ersian cigarette from his vest pocket.

“Do you mind if I…?” He pulled a match book from his pocket, eyes downcast.

“Not at all.” Morigan nodded, “As long as you are willing to share.”

Just as Sophia told me, Sasha thought, Lady Viollet is a woman full of surprises. He lit the cigarette, passing it to her first. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Continue,” she ordered gently.

“So….A kind of plague befell the town some two weeks ago. The kind of thing brought about by various poisons and the aftermath of war. The damned mercenaries had poisoned the ground water and poisoned the very ground itself. Birth defects were rampant and still births too. So many still births that a special cemetery was consecrated just for the infants…….They wanted us to do more, but we couldn’t….we just couldn’t.”

He took a deep drag, his hands shaking a bit. “The kind of damage the mercenaries had done was biological and magical combined. Those damned mercenaries: It would take a team of high magicians a hundred years to clean up the entire system even if they worked non-stop without sleep. It was just that bad. And it was like…they just wouldn’t understand our point…. Because you can’t fix everything with majick. There…there…There is no balance in that, only chaos and complacency…and laziness on the part of those that don’t have to generate the majick that makes complex magical systems work. No, we told them. There was… a line we had to draw but the magistrate would have none of it. He claimed that because we did not take action towards solutions for all their problems that maybe we were the cause of the problems. That’s all he had to do….Because when people are desperate and scared that’s all you need to do….He planted a seed, you see. A terrible seed.”

Morigan inhaled the intoxicating smoke and shook her head with sadness. “I’m glad you are telling me these things since Sophia’s letters mention very little of such details.”
“Really?” Sasha questioned, brow furrowed.” What do they mention then?”.

Morigan passed the cigarette to Sasha. “She raves about you, apprentice, and all your talents and skills. Going on about what a great addition you’ll be to my little coven of wonderkin, as she liked to call it. Should I choose to grant you sanctuary, she gives me details for investments she has placed in my name as a kind of dowry reward for my taking you into my house. And she reminds me of a boon i owe her, for she saved my life once….Many moons ago…But what you are telling me is quite important too. So do carry on,” Morigan advised Sasha.

“The townspeople were weaklings, so the magistrate convinced them to hire someone to do their dirty work.” He continued. “Conveniently, he knew just the group to handle it. Just so happens he has contacts with majick-wielding mercenary types. For a ridiculous sum of money —that he delivers to his mercenary cronies after he’s of course taken his cut—- they will take care of the towns little witch problems once and for all………… And she knew they were coming. She knew it. I arrived at the manor house to warn her that something bad was coming. That we both needed to just leave. I didn’t even know exactly what at the time.” Sasha’s voice was rising now and he paid it no mind, so caught up was he in the tale. “But…but she already knew. She had things packed for me, prepared. I noticed something seemed odd about her, that the usual light wasn’t sparked in her eyes. That they seemed dull somehow. Then she slipped the amulet of passage around my neck. Around my wrists she affixed numerous bracelets of warding too and they were all humming with power…Her power. All of her power. She began pushing me towards the door at the farthest end of the house. I pleaded with her, but she would not listen…Would. Not. Listen…to me. The amulet of passage would see me through the realms, she said to me, just far enough for me to reach the last person she considered a true friend…………………. I pleaded with her. I did.” Sasha paused, trying to keep the well of tears from sliding down his face.

He breathed deeply in an effort to regain composure but it was growing more difficult as he relived the moments in his mind; moments that he had yet to truly come to grips with emotionaly. The Ersian cigarette in his hand held one last drag and he took it slowly before dropping its end into a near by ash bowel.

“I pleaded with her,” he said. His voice trembled then rose as a momentary fit of rage threatened him. “But….she would not have it”.

Morigan covered her eyes with her hands and sighed, remembering her old friend and lover. “She could have set that entire town…on fire,” she spoke opening her eyes to look into those of Sasha. She held his gaze, watching him blush helplessly as she did so. “And you tried to get her to do it too………didn’t you Sasha?”

He turned from her then, ashamed at the sweet dark feeling that filled him even now when he thought of it. He allowed his eyes to shut for a moment, knowing he was betraying that which he wished to hide more so in the doing. How he wished he were stronger right now. Strong as he had been before, able to conceal those things he would rather keep to himself.

“Yeeeess,” Morigan coaxed, her voice but a whisper, “I know it. With all the rage I see you repressing before me I know it crossed your mind…I know you suggested it to her. As her apprentice, you knew the great power she kept in check. But then there’s the matter of the amulet of passage and the kind of majick it takes to fuel such a multi-functional contraption for three to five days worth of flight across realms. But even after charging such a thing, she had to have a bit of majick left, just enough….Not to mention with you at her side….Though not a battle seasoned magician, you could have helped her pull it off. Oh yes, you could have turned that little town into not but ashes. Be honest with me.”

There was a long pause between them.

“Yes,” Sasha answered sharply, his head tilting back, sharp teeth curling into a strange smile. He stared up at the ceiling.

“Yes.” He paused for another long time before continuing, smile fading, “Deep down inside me…inside the part of me that is black and cruel and ugly I wanted nothing more than to set that entire ungrateful town of ignorant sods a fire.”

His hands curled into fists and is eyes shut again. “But she refused me. She said it wasn’t worth it. That the aftershock of such an action would be staggering and far reaching… That bad things happen when witches set entire towns on fire…even if its self defense.”

“Indeed,” Morigan spoke, “and worst yet is the fact that you have to live with that. Even if you did it in self defense you have to live with the memory of that action for the rest of your life. Damn her sense of drama though, that Sophia. Would rather go down as a one of the many Witch Martyrs than as a murderous harpy that savaged an entire town with her consort apprentice when they dared to cross her. Martyrdom has much more staying power: she wanted to die.”

“It would seem.” Sasha whispered, a single tear finally breaking through and falling down his cheek. “It would seem. She pushed me out of the house, cast a short chameleon spell over me so i could get at least a few miles away completely unseen by those who might take interest…….. I felt it when they killed her, Lady Morigan… I felt it. Felt everything they did to her and then I felt her die….Slip away into the ether…And then they came for me. Pursued me through three realm jumps before giving up.”

Sasha took one last gulp from his absinthe. Something inside him seemed to be snapping. He watched his hand place the glass on the table. So slow suddenly. Felt the glint of light reflecting off the facets of the glass into his eyes. Another deep breath and again he made his way to kneel before the Lady Viollet, as if compelled to do so.”I have traveled for three days straight.” He said to her, eyes averted, looking everywhere but directly at her face. “Please…I…I…have nowhere…Nowhere else…” Words failed him and suddenly he could not control his tears any longer and fell upon her lap with violent sobbing.

He felt her delicate fingers run through his hair and he was ashamed for he knew he was filthy from days of nonstop travel. He was taken aback at his emotions and that after three days of running with no sleep, it seemed he could barely control any of his actions. His dignity was gone, obliterated it seemed and he didn’t care anymore. Couldn’t care. No longer having the energy to hold up the illusion of strength he wept and wept.

His face buried in her lap, his hands held onto her as if she were the only thing that kept him afloat in reality suddenly. Her warmth was too much, yet too perfect and sweet to let go. The exotic smell of her overwhelmed him again, seeming to push through his sorrow with the most tender of distraction tactics, sparking a magnificent and perverse desire inside him. The silk fabric of her dress was now wet with his tears, and he could feel the skin of her upper thigh against his cheek through the fabric. Again, her fingers moved through his hair and it seemed as if he would melt from the inside. Gradually his sobbing lessened and his breathing became more regular.

Morigan looked down at him, feeling his warm breath across her pendundum and his arms drawn tight around her. His tears had indeed soaked through her dress and she could feel them trickling right between her thighs now. He was intense, of that there was no denying and it was very clear to her now why Sophia had chosen such a creature to serve as her consort-apprentice.

Her fingers brushed at his tear streaked face and she managed to use a bit of her dress to dry them. Her hand moved to lift his chin, again forcing him to look at her eyes. Sudden realization brought discomfort and made him avert his gaze and release the hold his hands had held on her small waist.

She laughed softly and spoke in her rich witches voice. “Sasha, look at me. I learn much by looking into your eyes and find worry over those that can not meet my gaze.”

“It is shame, my lady,” Sasha said to her, feeling rather childlike and foolish suddenly. “It seems I have no dignity left…no composure. Everything about all of this…Everything about you…Your gaze affects me in ways i did not anticipate. I apologize..I…”

“Look at me,” she said more sternly and this time he could not resist the command.

“Sasha.” She spoke his name and a strange calm passed over him. Unfamiliar words of majick passed from her lips and all the tension seemed to leave his muscles, rendering him soft and pliant, languid even.

“So tired,” she said to him.

“Yes.” He replied, transfixed by her gaze. Something about her was relaxing him, doing strange things to him.

“Such a long journey and such hardship.” Her hand again brushed hair from obscuring his eyes and then moved to his cheek. He let his eyes shut, forgetting himself again, loosing himself in the singular softness of her hand, her fingers. “No more pain for now, Sasha Alexzandre Oberon,” she said. ” I will not turn you away. On the contrary, I bid thee welcome: Welcome to the House of Viollet.”

He resisted the urge to soak her dress with more tears and met her gaze with a smile. He kissed the inside of her hand before she retracted it.

“Now,” she began, getting to business almost immediately, “Mallick will show you to your chambers and to the washing room where you’ll find a hot bath waiting for you. After that there’s the matter of getting some food into you. We’ve all had our supper a little while ago, but no matter. There’s plenty of lamb stew left and Agneshka put much work into it. Would you rather take your meal in the dining room or your own chamber to better allow you to relax and shake the disorientation of traveling cross realms?”

He rose to his feet. “I’d like to eat in the room…Just for now though.”

“Completely understandable.” Morigan spoke, rising from her chair as well. “Mallick will help you with your bags too, so don’t worry about lugging them about.”

“But I have gifts for you, my lady.” Sasha spoke.

“Later,” Morigan smiled, “we will worry over such things as gifts. For now, let us make sure you are healthy and get you rested.”

She and Sasha exchanged a quick embrace. But right before releasing him completely, she suddenly pulled him close and stepping on the tips of her toes she then whispered something into his ear:

“I will tell you this from life experience—.” Her right hand moved to the back of his neck. Lightly burying her fingertips into his black hair she pulled him even closer and felt as a shiver ran through him.

“—When you set a town afire, it burns for at least two days and it is fueled mostly by the melting fat of its victims. There is a smell and there is a sound such massacre makes and the heady ecstasy of vengeance never quite over rules the revulsion that will forever accompany the memory of such an act…

That memory stays with you here…”

She pressed her fingers to his forehead.

“–And here.”

She then pressed her fingers to his heart.

“Sophia knew this and though it is painful, she chose the best path for you. Feel no guilt, for she was well aware of the choice she was making. Remember this.”

She then stepped away from him.

Mallick seemed to appear from shadows and Sasha suddenly wondered how long he had been present in the room. He picked up Sasha’s bags and gestured toward the door with a smile. “Right this way.”

The house was a wonderful conglomeration of design elements from round the realms, but its main feel was earth-realm far east: the lands of India, Turkey, and Middle east regions.

There were arched doorways and multi-faceted embellishments surrounded them as they moved up stair ways and down intricate hallways. The interior of the house was a strange thing indeed, for to Sasha’s eyes the house did not at look as big outside as it did inside and when his fingers lingered on certain walls his senses tingled with the idea that the walls themselves seemed to breath almost.

Fairy light globes hovered about casting a peculiar haze about every room and hallway and firefly like creatures offered their aid as light givers too, sending his eyes blinking wildly when they popped and fizzed right in front of him with their green glow.

Mallick said nothing as they walked, simply allowing the newcomer to slowly absorb his surroundings.

———————-

When they finally made it to room 13 they found themselves at the end of a long hallway in a circular alcove area whose walls where five sides instead of four. Mallick produced a skeleton key from his pocket. The arched door, just as others in the house, was made of a heavy dark wood and was carved with intricate geometric patterns, runic if Sasha guessed correctly. When unlocked it creaked open to reveal the refurbished chamber.

The room was of a generous size, complete with large sleigh bed, sumptuously rugged wood floors, fireplace and private toilet room. A fan spun from the ceiling.

Mallick sat Sasha’s bags down next to a large armoire and turned on his heels to hand him the key to the room. When he turned he beheld Sasha pressing his ear against the wall. The young man then turned and leaned his back against the wall.

“This place,” he said, eying Mallick, “…Something is going on.”

Mallick smiled his slow smile and drew near to Sasha, pressing his hand to the wall right next to Sasha’s head. Their eyes met and Mallick held his gaze for a long time. For a moment Sasha thought to turn from him and then thought better of it.

“Yes, very good to think better of that. We do so love eye contact here…This place,” Mallick said, his eyes boring into Sasha, “it breaths….It is a living thing, so alive in fact that it has a name: Vesh Kah-lah. Take a moment to pause…Feel that?”

He paused and they stood there for a moment, quiet and listening. And after a time, Sasha did feel it, the very wall moving against his back ever so slightly as if it were taking a very long inhalation.

Mallick tilted his head to one side, eyes still affixed to Sasha’s and spoke in a low tone. “…And one day, I promise you, you will grow accustomed to it. Just like one day, you’ll grow accustomed to what Morigan’s presence does to you….deep down…on the inside… To the extent that you might be able to retain some composure when you find yourself in the same room as her.”

Sasha’s brow furrowed then, but he kept his voice calm, “How long were you there…watching?”

“Saaaasha,” Mallick answered, his voice moving like a warm milk, perfectly mimicking the way in which Morigan had spoken Sasha’s name to calm him; unnerving him just a bit in its effectiveness. “Come now: there’s no need to feel shame in it….We’ve all been there. And with any luck we’ll have moments to be there again. To be disarmed by her, pulled apart and peeled back by the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice when she asks questions you’d rather not answer. Ahhh and then there’s her touch…and not to mention her smell. Which causes mild hallucinations if you sit too close to her for too long. So many things with which to turn you inside out. To help reveal you, the real you. You were with her for some time, too. Close to her. Very close…Kneeling before her, your arms around her waist holding her tight, face pressed into the wellspring of her lap….Your tears soaking through her dress to slide between her thighs. She unhinged you a bit and it was absolutely breathtaking.”

“What are you to her?” Sasha asked. 

Mallick found himself mildly amused. “What am I to her?” He crossed examined retorically.”Sometimes I am her right hand…sometimes I am her left. Sometimes a blade, sometimes a poison. Just another shadow princeling ready to bend to her will. A creature happy to do her bidding. And betimes I am blessed to be that which makes our lady swoon for she has particular cravings that only a choice few might attempt to slake. But don’t worry though: she likes you. I can already tell.”

“What is she?” Sasha dared question. “Is she human?”

Mallick laughed. “Honestly, I know not. More human than human, maybe. The next step up in ‘human’. Her father was human…but her mother…was something else. Like unto a succubus perhaps…definitely something…else…But enough about that. Know this now,” Mallick spoke, changing the subject. “That woman…I love her….Adore her. Would do anything for her. Her very presence is like a drug to me. I know you come here under the most dire of circumstances and ,hence, your intentions are most likely innocent. But should you ever come to harm her or anyone that dwells beneath this roof…I will kill you.”

Mallick pulled away from Sasha and made his way to the door. “Now, that that’s out of the way….I’ve other business to attend to, so I’ll show you to the bathing chamber and then I’ll be off. By the time you’re done with that you’ll find an extremely delicious stew waiting for you here. They may bring you absinthe…they may bring you wine…tea…or you mayhap you’ll find only a cold jug of water. We’ll see. There are others here whom I’ve no doubt will make their presence known to you and one of them will surely decide on such things on your behalf.”

With that they quickly made pace to the bathing chamber, where Sasha Alexzandre enjoyed the most blissful of treats one can indulge in after three days of non-stop traveling: a hot bath.

————-

Agneshka’s lamb stew was the kind of thing people still talked about days after they had initially indulged in it. It was just that delicious. She cooked it on occasion, aligning the preparation of it with moon phases. The chunks of lamb meat simmered in a pot of rich broth for five hours before any other ingredients were added to ensure it was adequately tender. Countless herbs and spices, mingled with an array of vegetables cut to just the right size, turned the stew into pure delight.

Lady Viollet requested that Agneshka re-heat a special batch for the newcomer late that night. It seemed he had traveled across the greater part of seven realms on foot and had yet to show signs of Halo Fire.

Otherwise called “The Gate Sickness”, Halo Fire, was a traumatic and more often very painful. And very few people were completely immune to its effects. Some would show its signs of onset early; for others, the signs of Halo Fire could be delayed for hours or days. For this reason, Morigan felt it necessary to give him the medicine for combating it: Nova-Luna. A tasty concoction consisting of various opiums and calming herbs, it kept the body from falling into the fits of painful seizures and muscle spasms common among those that pushed their physical bodies through Halo Mechanisms, or Wormhole Gates, without the shelter of an encapsulating vessel. She wanted to take no chances with his health and thought it best to administer the spicy tincture if only for the sake of granting him a solid night of sleep free of nightmares and other dream terrors.

Agneshka, draped in her sleeveless black nightgown and robe, prepared the stew with attention and care. Carefully stirring in the Nova-Luna, she masked its heady flavor with an abundance of rosemary & saffron. She then poured a cup of warm honeyed tea, set everything on a tray and made her way upstairs to room 13.

When Agneshka arrived to the room she found that Sasha was still taking his bath. She maneuvered the covered bowl and cup to a table close to the window and departed. Glancing to her pocket watch, she noted the time and decided to come back up in a few hours to check on him and retrieve the dish ware. After everything she had heard he’d been through, she could imagine he wanted little in the way of curious people oogling him as if he were a science specimen.

Two hours later she returned to the chamber to retrieve the dishware and found Sasha Alexzandre sleeping soundly. He had hungrily devoured every drop of stew from the large bowl and apparently even licked the bowl clean, Agneshka noted as she placed the empty teacup within it. The Nova-Luna had done its work well, sending Sasha into a dreamless and heavy sleep within but a matter of minutes after finishing the stew.

Agneshka approached the bed slowly, curious to see the face of this new addition. Drawing near, she let out a soft exhale as she took in his features.

“My, my,” Agneshka whispered to herself, brushing hair from his serenely sleeping face. “So this is our far-cousin of the Torshka-Barbaroi. Tangee told me you were handsome, but alas, it seems it was an understatement.”

The Nova-Luna had overcome him rather suddenly and by the looks of things he hadn’t quite even made it beneath the soft quilt before sleep took him. Agneshka managed to pull the quilt to and fro, freeing it from beneath him. She then pulled it across his body up to his waist. His shirt was buttoned haphazardly and she quickly took note of the cuts, scratches and gouges that riddled him. Nothing she could see seemed to require stitches, but Morigan would surely order a full exam on the morrow to be on the safe side. From a pocket of her robe she pulled a small vial of fragrant oil, which was in fact a healing salve. After unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, she began applying the salve with gentle precision, making sure to rub it in well. She was sure the oil would cause a bit of a sting, but he didn’t stir even a bit due to her attentions.

Skimming across him with her witch’s sense, she felt pain and exhaustion still radiating from every fiber of his being.

“He’ll most likely sleep for days,” Mallick said quietly from his spot in the doorway.

“Indeed,” Agneshka replied as she slipped the vial back into her pocket. She began buttoning Sasha’s shirt again. “Seems he has been through much. Not to mention jumping through wormholes sheltered only by an amulet of passage & some ward charm bracelets….I’m more surprised we’re not scraping him off the ceiling due to Halo Fire sickness and stark raving madness.”

Mallick laughed quietly. “Oh, there’s still time for that, love. But, you forget: He spent quite a bit of time with our lady. She was quietly casting spells of healing and calming over him during their entire meeting.”

“That she would,” Agneshka whispered. “That she would. I already hear tell that he completely unraveled with her. Lost control a bit, did he?”

“Given the stressful circumstances of his arrival, it was understandable…his reaction,” Mallick replied in a rather matter-of-fact manner. “And our lady already has a certain disarming effect on people…especially those meeting her for the first time. Combine those elements, shake them up a bit and you get the most breathtaking scene of absolute collapse I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing in a long time.”

Agneshka rose and took the dishes from the small table. Smiling as she approached Mallick in the doorway she kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Naughty boy, Mallick,” She crooned. “You’ll soon have to share with me the details of this.”

“Soon,” Mallick answered, closing the door behind them. “Suffice to say it was most likely the very intensity of that collapse that sealed his entry into the House of Viollet.”