New Beginnings...
We were a motley bunch, we three. Rose took both William and I in, and for the past few months had been mentoring us each. He in what it was to be one of the Created, as his maker had abandoned him straight off. I, on the other hand, knew more of our nature but less of our world. Various factors had sent me to the wastes long enough ago that the world was a very different place. Under Rose's tutelage I've become accustomed to cells and subways and information accessable from across the world, although I still can't bring myself to drive.
So, when she told us that we needed to come with her from London where we both make our Lairs, out through the countryside to the Glastonbury Tur, we did so with little hesitation. The climb to the top of the tower was arduous, lugging the oaken cask as we were, but no more insurmountable than any other task the fates have put before us. I was, as always, fascinated by places like this, more bristling with the dead than the living.
Few things, at this point, have the power to completely surprise me. When your first memory is of being torn limb from limb and you've seen the city go from carriages to its current chaos, it takes a great deal to shock. Seeing Rose tear open that wooden keg and reveal a sodden human female was... nearly enough.
I think I caught on earlier than William. It is our way, for the most part. He is deep in knowledge, but I am quick to notice. Together we work well. Rose had said that this trip was important to her Pilgrimage, and I knew. The body, un-marred and beautiful, was destined to be her creation.
The ceremony was simple, but meaningful. I could feel the Divine Fire surge when Rose kissed her would-be daughter, and again when the prone girl's eyes fluttered open. After a length, it appeared that the process had been successful, and yet another spark of Divine Imperfection had flared to "life."
The climb down was easier, physically. Cask abandoned and unburdened by the former-corpse's weight, we made our way back to the vehicle amid a flurry of offered tidbits on our nature. The girl spoke little, but her glassy black eyes were full of questioning wonder, a hunger we did our best to sate.
We stopped for the night at a small road-side inn. We shared a room, for expense and safety, with William immersing himself in the bathing basin and I on the floor between the two Muses each in their own bed. I sought the spirit world in my dreams, but it was (perhaps thankfully) less active here than if we had, for example, slumbered nearer to the Tur.
We woke to find Rose gone.
There was no sign of struggle. Her bag was gone, her phone abandoned beneath her bed, and the keys to the vehicle still remained behind. No instruction, no missive, nothing remained behind to tell us what to do. The girl knew nothing of her maker's whereabouts, but spoke, with glistening eyes we recognized from our own Hope Dreams, of an underground tunnel caved in and meeting Rose in the future. It wasn't much, but...
And without her guiding force, it took us a while to take action. We waited... and waited... Two hours passed, but Rose did not return, and we could tell that our presence was becoming unwelcome. We packed our meager belongings and followed our only lead. But there was nothing in the daily news about any sort of underground railway disaster. No cave ins, no explosions, no derailments. Nothing as far back as the terrorist attempts several months in the past.
Dejected, we dedicated ourselves to the mundane, and went to our seperate Lairs. I took the girl with me. Somehow it didn't seem proper to leave her education to William, gentleman though he be.
I slept deeply that night, in my own bed, such as it is. My dreams were vivid, lit by the Divine Fire. A subway, such as Rose's daughter had described. Perhaps because I eschew the vulgarity of piloting myself by automobile, I recognized the place, at least in general. I could see the cave in she described, but I could tell the damage was long-done. The rockfalls were old, the rails were old; the only new addition was a painted marking similar to those that the human packs leave behind to mark their territory. But this sprayed paint was not made by human hands. It was a Pilgrim Mark, denoting this as a place of safety. I peered closer and the dream changed. A road stretched out before me, and not more than a few steps ahead was a fork in the path. To the right, a woman's form stood, bathed in a crackling light. To the left, a man, dour but powerful, stood on a craggy mountaintop. I knew, as one only can in the throes of Elpis dreams, that there would soon be a choice to be made.
When I woke, I spoke to William and found he'd had dreams of the subway as well. He took my information and went to research the most direct route to proceed, while I set about obtaining supplies for our young charge. Proper boots, a suitable skirt, and the like. When he returned, we went in search of some small supplies should we find need of excavating the area we desired to go: rope, electric torches, spare batteries, a small shovel, a minute pick and the like. Rose's child was fascinated, seemingly as much by the "things" around her as by the people. "They have so much... stuff..." was frequently heard as we made our way through the shop, but the girl behaved herself well.
At least, until we were paying for our purchase.
I'd been watching, knowing that the Pyros would eventually manifest. I wanted to be able to help compensate, should it do so in a way that proved dangerous or harmful to our makeshift group, but mostly out of curiousity. Rose and William were not the only of the Created I knew, but after my self-imposed exile of many decades, they were the only one's I'd re-encountered. I knew, or thought I did, how the Fire manifested in each of my companions, and yet here was this new creature whose connection with the Divine was fully a quarter of those I knew currently existed, and she was a mystery to me. Would she supplement her ungodly beauty with supernatural wiles as had both Rose and William? Or would the Torment of being abandoned by her creator and thrust into this half-life taint her being with Torment and send her into the throes of vengeance? She did not seem to feel the need to abandon us for her own company, so I thought it most likely she would follow in Rose (and William's) footsteps, especially considering her fascination with the thronging crowds around her, but one could never tell how the Fire would first manifest. And so, I watched.
When the store-clerk's eyes met hers, she smiled, and he did not look away. William paid, laying his money on the counter, but still the clerk stared. One breath, two, and then a third, but still the man could not take his eyes from hers or her from his. Behind us, the other customers began to take note, and, although I was fascinated, I knew it was time to step in.
"We must be going..."
Neither moved.
"NOW." I jostled the girl and broke her concentration and we made a quick retreat to the van. William drove us to the entry to the subway we sought, while I pumped the girl for information. "Why did you do that? How did it feel? What was his reaction? Could you sense the ability to do that before it manifested, or did it just happen?"
Her answers were simple, and she seemed well pleased with herself. "I could tell he just wanted to look at me... And I wanted him to. It felt good to have him look."
I continued my questions as we made our way into the long-unused tunnel. So deep were we in conversation that we did not notice William breaking his way through the brick wall to gain easier access until he stopped us and asked us to continue with him through it. It is easy, I think, to get lost in such a fascinating topic.
But, break through the wall he had, and so we three intrepid explorers allowed the light of our Hope Dreams to lead us into the darkness.
I do not fear the darkness. But I am not so unwise as to not have a healthy respect, and even fear, of the things it can hide from sight. Our torches flickered around the tunnel, illuminating spider webs and rock-falls, their shadows dancing macabrely around us. William turned and I saw the Pilgrim Sign, as bright and garish as it had been in my dream. I explained the mark to Rose's creation, and then warned that safety was not a permanent thing; once marked, danger could come into an area. One still had to proceed with caution. I touched on, but did not elaborate on the things that could use our signs to lure us into supposed sanctuary; she'd been inundated with enough jaded information already in her few hours of life.
William's torch-beam strayed from the Mark and around the rest of the room when suddenly I realized we were not alone. Along with William's fluid Azoth, and the new girl's which fairly coursed and thumped as if with a Divine pulse, there was something else. I couldn't quite get a feel for it, despite my best efforts, but I could tell it was powerful, and coming closer.
He was a mountain of a man, literally and figuratively. Skin as black as pavement, and cracked like an old road, he greeted us and as we apologized over ourselves for intruding upon his domain, his stoic shrugs spoke as much as his gravelly voice did. "You got ta do what ya got ta do... When the road calls you, you gots to follow." His accent was cockney, low class, but he wasn't so much hostile as resigned.
We explained that we'd been led there on our Pilgrimage, and he shook his head. "Don't believe in it, myself. But you've got to do what you've got to do. You don't seem the kind to hurt a man for his beliefs. And if you need something, I'm the guy to lend you a hand..."
Again, I think I caught on first, but I hadn't even had time to begin backing towards the exit when he finished, smugly wry with his own joke. "After all... I've got a hundred of them."
We'd just met our first Centimani.
So, when she told us that we needed to come with her from London where we both make our Lairs, out through the countryside to the Glastonbury Tur, we did so with little hesitation. The climb to the top of the tower was arduous, lugging the oaken cask as we were, but no more insurmountable than any other task the fates have put before us. I was, as always, fascinated by places like this, more bristling with the dead than the living.
Few things, at this point, have the power to completely surprise me. When your first memory is of being torn limb from limb and you've seen the city go from carriages to its current chaos, it takes a great deal to shock. Seeing Rose tear open that wooden keg and reveal a sodden human female was... nearly enough.
I think I caught on earlier than William. It is our way, for the most part. He is deep in knowledge, but I am quick to notice. Together we work well. Rose had said that this trip was important to her Pilgrimage, and I knew. The body, un-marred and beautiful, was destined to be her creation.
The ceremony was simple, but meaningful. I could feel the Divine Fire surge when Rose kissed her would-be daughter, and again when the prone girl's eyes fluttered open. After a length, it appeared that the process had been successful, and yet another spark of Divine Imperfection had flared to "life."
The climb down was easier, physically. Cask abandoned and unburdened by the former-corpse's weight, we made our way back to the vehicle amid a flurry of offered tidbits on our nature. The girl spoke little, but her glassy black eyes were full of questioning wonder, a hunger we did our best to sate.
We stopped for the night at a small road-side inn. We shared a room, for expense and safety, with William immersing himself in the bathing basin and I on the floor between the two Muses each in their own bed. I sought the spirit world in my dreams, but it was (perhaps thankfully) less active here than if we had, for example, slumbered nearer to the Tur.
We woke to find Rose gone.
There was no sign of struggle. Her bag was gone, her phone abandoned beneath her bed, and the keys to the vehicle still remained behind. No instruction, no missive, nothing remained behind to tell us what to do. The girl knew nothing of her maker's whereabouts, but spoke, with glistening eyes we recognized from our own Hope Dreams, of an underground tunnel caved in and meeting Rose in the future. It wasn't much, but...
And without her guiding force, it took us a while to take action. We waited... and waited... Two hours passed, but Rose did not return, and we could tell that our presence was becoming unwelcome. We packed our meager belongings and followed our only lead. But there was nothing in the daily news about any sort of underground railway disaster. No cave ins, no explosions, no derailments. Nothing as far back as the terrorist attempts several months in the past.
Dejected, we dedicated ourselves to the mundane, and went to our seperate Lairs. I took the girl with me. Somehow it didn't seem proper to leave her education to William, gentleman though he be.
I slept deeply that night, in my own bed, such as it is. My dreams were vivid, lit by the Divine Fire. A subway, such as Rose's daughter had described. Perhaps because I eschew the vulgarity of piloting myself by automobile, I recognized the place, at least in general. I could see the cave in she described, but I could tell the damage was long-done. The rockfalls were old, the rails were old; the only new addition was a painted marking similar to those that the human packs leave behind to mark their territory. But this sprayed paint was not made by human hands. It was a Pilgrim Mark, denoting this as a place of safety. I peered closer and the dream changed. A road stretched out before me, and not more than a few steps ahead was a fork in the path. To the right, a woman's form stood, bathed in a crackling light. To the left, a man, dour but powerful, stood on a craggy mountaintop. I knew, as one only can in the throes of Elpis dreams, that there would soon be a choice to be made.
When I woke, I spoke to William and found he'd had dreams of the subway as well. He took my information and went to research the most direct route to proceed, while I set about obtaining supplies for our young charge. Proper boots, a suitable skirt, and the like. When he returned, we went in search of some small supplies should we find need of excavating the area we desired to go: rope, electric torches, spare batteries, a small shovel, a minute pick and the like. Rose's child was fascinated, seemingly as much by the "things" around her as by the people. "They have so much... stuff..." was frequently heard as we made our way through the shop, but the girl behaved herself well.
At least, until we were paying for our purchase.
I'd been watching, knowing that the Pyros would eventually manifest. I wanted to be able to help compensate, should it do so in a way that proved dangerous or harmful to our makeshift group, but mostly out of curiousity. Rose and William were not the only of the Created I knew, but after my self-imposed exile of many decades, they were the only one's I'd re-encountered. I knew, or thought I did, how the Fire manifested in each of my companions, and yet here was this new creature whose connection with the Divine was fully a quarter of those I knew currently existed, and she was a mystery to me. Would she supplement her ungodly beauty with supernatural wiles as had both Rose and William? Or would the Torment of being abandoned by her creator and thrust into this half-life taint her being with Torment and send her into the throes of vengeance? She did not seem to feel the need to abandon us for her own company, so I thought it most likely she would follow in Rose (and William's) footsteps, especially considering her fascination with the thronging crowds around her, but one could never tell how the Fire would first manifest. And so, I watched.
When the store-clerk's eyes met hers, she smiled, and he did not look away. William paid, laying his money on the counter, but still the clerk stared. One breath, two, and then a third, but still the man could not take his eyes from hers or her from his. Behind us, the other customers began to take note, and, although I was fascinated, I knew it was time to step in.
"We must be going..."
Neither moved.
"NOW." I jostled the girl and broke her concentration and we made a quick retreat to the van. William drove us to the entry to the subway we sought, while I pumped the girl for information. "Why did you do that? How did it feel? What was his reaction? Could you sense the ability to do that before it manifested, or did it just happen?"
Her answers were simple, and she seemed well pleased with herself. "I could tell he just wanted to look at me... And I wanted him to. It felt good to have him look."
I continued my questions as we made our way into the long-unused tunnel. So deep were we in conversation that we did not notice William breaking his way through the brick wall to gain easier access until he stopped us and asked us to continue with him through it. It is easy, I think, to get lost in such a fascinating topic.
But, break through the wall he had, and so we three intrepid explorers allowed the light of our Hope Dreams to lead us into the darkness.
I do not fear the darkness. But I am not so unwise as to not have a healthy respect, and even fear, of the things it can hide from sight. Our torches flickered around the tunnel, illuminating spider webs and rock-falls, their shadows dancing macabrely around us. William turned and I saw the Pilgrim Sign, as bright and garish as it had been in my dream. I explained the mark to Rose's creation, and then warned that safety was not a permanent thing; once marked, danger could come into an area. One still had to proceed with caution. I touched on, but did not elaborate on the things that could use our signs to lure us into supposed sanctuary; she'd been inundated with enough jaded information already in her few hours of life.
William's torch-beam strayed from the Mark and around the rest of the room when suddenly I realized we were not alone. Along with William's fluid Azoth, and the new girl's which fairly coursed and thumped as if with a Divine pulse, there was something else. I couldn't quite get a feel for it, despite my best efforts, but I could tell it was powerful, and coming closer.
He was a mountain of a man, literally and figuratively. Skin as black as pavement, and cracked like an old road, he greeted us and as we apologized over ourselves for intruding upon his domain, his stoic shrugs spoke as much as his gravelly voice did. "You got ta do what ya got ta do... When the road calls you, you gots to follow." His accent was cockney, low class, but he wasn't so much hostile as resigned.
We explained that we'd been led there on our Pilgrimage, and he shook his head. "Don't believe in it, myself. But you've got to do what you've got to do. You don't seem the kind to hurt a man for his beliefs. And if you need something, I'm the guy to lend you a hand..."
Again, I think I caught on first, but I hadn't even had time to begin backing towards the exit when he finished, smugly wry with his own joke. "After all... I've got a hundred of them."
We'd just met our first Centimani.