Amber Shards

Chapter 6

Gifts of Love

 

Do I know you from somewhere

Why do you leave me wanting more

Why do the things I say

Sound like the stupid things I’ve said before.

 

Kiss me I’m Dying.

Put your hand on my skin.

I close my eyes

In need to have your protection

I close my eyes

I close your eyes

 

Skin – Monanna – Ray of light

 

Anne strolled through the monastery.  The morning mist had vanished but the cool air that remained was a welcomed relief from the heat of the September Indian Summer.  A light breeze touched her face, played with her long raven hair and rippled her green blouse.  She climbed the stairs and looked out over the rampart walls at the surrounding lands and forest.   She thought to herself “Here were are in the aftermath of social breakdown living a monastic life residing in what was once central Arkansas and calling ourselves ‘The Haven of Light.’”

 

Someone with more money than sense had decided that he wanted to create a home in the style of an English monastery.  Sister Angela had discovered and converted it.  Now it stood as a small bastion of civilization as the world outside slowly crumbled.   Their 'Order' acted as both hospital and a neutral meeting ground.  Those who served here had suffered and sought refuge from the world.  They did not escape the world, but only withdrew for a time.

 

She turned around, stuck her hands into the pockets of worn, faded jeans and leaned against the stone wall.  Anne surveyed the inner courtyard.  The buildings and walls were all made of light gray stone.  The structures included what once were, two servant quarters, kennels, stables, and lastly the chapel hall.  It was the largest of the buildings and contained the chapel, infirmary, kitchen, sister’s quarters, library and other rooms.  The servant’s quarters were where the few brothers, men and families in the cloister stayed.  The kennels and stables were used as storage and workrooms.

 

Though these buildings looked anachronistic on the outside, inside this was a modern facility with some conveniences still working.  The water came from an underground well; pumped by the limited amount of electrical power they had.  A set of solar panels had survived as well as a hydroelectric plant located on a natural spring.  The former owner had wanted the place to be self-sufficient so had built these.  When Angela had found this place, some of it had fallen into disrepair, but they had salvaged what they could and traded for the rest.

 

She had called this place home for the past five of her twenty-five years.  Anne looked at the servants quarters and sighed.  "Now you have come here and changed everything."  She had intended the statement to sound harsh, but somehow could not bring herself to do it.  After all the suffering she had endured under men's hands, Anne believed she could never fully trust one again. This was until Kieran arrived.

 

She had found him hurt and bleeding one night back in June.  They had brought him back to the monastery and bandaged him up as well as they could and left him to rest.  Before she had left, he awoke and professed to have lost his memory.  The cynical side of Anne had thought this some attempt to cover up for being stupid and getting beaten up, but when he had touched her and pleaded for help, she was moved.  Not just compassion, but it was as if something unseen passed between them and she knew he was telling the truth. 

 

Now she always knew when he was spinning a yarn or being honest.  This frightened a part of her, but that part grew smaller every day.  The rest of her felt as if he had breathed new life into her.

 

When he first arrived he didn’t even know his name.  Sister Myralos their herbalist had tried several concoctions to aid his memory but to no avail.  She had come to show him to the men’s quarters and along the way he thanked her again and being somewhat whimsical at the moment started quoting Shakespeare; something from A Mid Summer’s Night Dream.  Then suddenly he stopped, stared into nothing and then in a distant voice said, “Kieran, my name is Kieran”.

 

“I was delighted,” she thought.  “Then I tried to help see if he remembered anything else.  He shook his head sadly seeming to grasp nothing else in his past.  Though I felt awful for him, he looked at me with the brightest smile.  “Milady, do not fret.  Though the whole of my life is not apparent, you have helped to conjure forth my name and that is a start.”  Then he bowed, took my hand and locking eyes with me bent forward and kissed the back of my hand.”

 

“Part of me wanted to backhand him. The nerve of the man, presuming to kiss me, even if it was just my hand.  The other part was lost in those emerald green eyes.  I felt as if I was drowning in them.  Then as quickly as the moment had arrived it vanished again.  Kieran continued walking along, almost as if nothing had changed. ”

 

Ann started as the morning bell rang.  “Morning duties begin again.”  She sighed and headed back to the chapter hall.

 

As she walked, the ugly truth of why she originally came to the monastery surfaced in her mind.  Leering voices and grasping hands materialized in her mind’s eye.  Anne took all of this shoved it back into its ‘little mental box’.  The feelings that Kieran stirred within her also seemed to stir these memories that she sought to keep silent.

 

She knew that she was going to have to face these memories, Angela said that was going to be important to finally being released from her fear of men, but she wasn’t sure she could.  For now she would spend time with Kieran.  She felt soothed by his presence.  She knew that his gentle soul was nothing like the brutes that had hurt her.

 

 

Kieran awoke to blood.  His shirt and hands were covered in it.  “Oh Lord what have I done?  Damn, I’ve been sleepwalking again.” 

 

This was not the first time he had done things in his sleep.  After he had arrived and had healed up he had awaked one morning all tussled and his shirt ripped, but he had a deck of strange cards. That time he had dreamed of playing cards and these cards were winnings of a game and then there had been some sort of fight…

 

This time was different the dream was a hazy but he remembered parts of it…He had flown to a location on a magic black rope…or was it a tentacle?  He has stepped through a wall into a huge room…  It was filled with incense and chanting voices…  A man, no woman in a red mask was held a dagger above her head.  He knew that the blade was his and it didn’t belong in the hands of a novice sorceress like her…novice sorceress?

 

He had challenged her to some sort of duel.  The dream became strangely familiar at that point.  Colors, shapes and sounds blossomed to life around them as these forms tore and fought with each other.  She had talent, but her strength waned and he had not even broken a sweat. 

 

Things became muddled after that.  There were screams and robed figures threw themselves at him and the black rope he had rode to get him here reformed, twisted back and back upon itself, giving the illusion of a mass of tentacles.  As one of the braids reached out to take him home, the others were fended off his assailants….

 

Then, he awoke…with the dagger

 

Kieran watched his own reflection as he splashed water on his face from his basin; clean-shaven, fair skin, long red hair and intense green eyes.  The blood had washed off of his face and hands turned the water to a pinkish-red.  He would need to work to get it out of his clothes.  Kieran tossed them to the floor and decided would clean them later.

 

He looked down at the blade; it didn’t look that impressive.  The strange thing he had discovered was the dagger appeared completely clean as well as the section of his hand where it gripped the sheath, while the rest of  his hands were bloody.  The blade was in a black scabbard; the blade was slim, sharp and measured about 8 inches.  The guard was finely sculpted into two twined snakes.  The grip was a simple black wood and the pommel flared out and came to a point, the classic ‘skull crusher’.  The curious this is that the blade was warm, warmer than the surrounding air should allow for.  As he looked at it something crept out of the fog of his amnesia and told him that it was dangerous, just like cards he had ‘won’, but was definitely his.

 

Kieran pondered showing Anne the dagger and then decided against it.  As he dressing, he remembered when he had ‘discovered’ the card and had inadvertently mentioned them.  The cards were tarot-like in style and bore images of people and places.  Somehow he knew that these were people and places that he thought he should remember…but couldn’t.  Anne didn’t react to the fact that they were suddenly in his possession but simply worked to see if they could bring back any more of his memory.

 

Afterwards he realized how relieved he was at her reaction.  In the weeks since he arrived, Anne had been a constant support.  Most of the time he didn’t realize it, but whenever he ever considered leaving or being away from her, he knotted up inside. 

 

Kieran looked at the knife and was positive that he should show this to no one.

 

As he stuck the knife in his boot, the morning bell sounded.

 

Though faint, Kieran detected footsteps coming down the hall.  He listened closely and could detect the cadence and rhythm of the steps so wasn’t surprised at when and Frank’s bald head jutted through the open the door.  Technically he was a lay brother, but of a rough sort.  Frank took care of a lot of the general maintenance of the monastery as well as being in charge of the men’s dorm.  Standing 6’3” and 280 pounds of muscle he also was great at intimidation.

 

“Hey Kieran, ya decent?”  Frank asked. 

 

He planted a hand on a hip and arched an eyebrow.  With his other hand gestured to his work shirt, pants and boots.  “No, I’m not.  In fact I’m completely naked.  But if you give me a minute I can be.” The statement dripped with sarcasm.

 

Frank smiled showing twin rows of crooked teeth; his head and massive hand vanished form the doorframe.  “Come on ya you lazy bones.  Mornin’s here and there chores to be done ‘fore breakfast.”  His voice echoed down the hall waking up those who had not been getting ready.  Occasionally there was a pounding on a door as he cheerfully rousted everyone out of bed.

 

Kieran relaxed.  He had hoped he had managed to place himself between the wash basin and Franks point of view.  There had been no time to empty it. 

 

He quickly turned to take care of this before anyone else came in and halted in mid stride. Kieran fought the weakness that was crawled into his legs.  There before him was the clean water in the basin and his clean white shirt and jeans lying at the foot of his bed.

 

 

Anne moved through the infirmary checking on the patients.  One was a young boy, Sean Walden, whom a feral dog had mauled. They had done their best to try and restore as much usefulness as they could to his left arm, but only time would tell.

 

Jim Hager was another; the only surviving member of his family after raiders attacked their farm.  They had held them off as best as they could but his wife and three sons had been killed.  His injuries included a shattered left forearm, a couple of broken ribs and numerous knife wounds.  Jim’s greatest injury though, was to his spirit.  The body heals much faster sometimes than the mind.  He blamed himself and bore the guilt for being alive while his entire family was dead.  There was a discussion amongst the Sisters and Brothers of the Order, to bring Jim into the fold to try and give him purpose and a chance to heal.  The man had been a master carpenter and that skill should not be lost.

 

There were others hurt in lesser degrees and Anne continued to tend them.  Even while she worked part of her mind was still where it had been coming back to more frequently, Kieran. 

 

Part of her rankled at the continued mystery that shrouded the man and kept her thinking about him.  Then she thought, “Who hasn’t felt changed by his coming.”

 

Kieran’s injuries had healed in a matter of days.  Something that Sister Agnes had said was phenomenal.  Anne had suspected that he was some sort of meta and told Sister Angela about it, but the high sister had said that she sensed no meta power surrounding him.  He was just blessed.

 

Besides being blessed, he had a way with people.  While Anne had studied and become a legal practicing nurse, Sister Margaret had been a registered nurse and had worked as a head nurse at several major hospitals.  Margaret had grown a thick emotional skin, having seen just about everything. She was normally a very dour and cynical woman.  Within days of being in the infirmary, Kieran had her chuckling and smiling on occasion.  In fact he had that effect on most people and was completely unaware of it.

 

A voice called out interrupting Anne’s musings.  “Is there something wrong with that section of wall?”  The question was delivered with a certain level of humor in it.

 

Anne jumped and recognized the voice of the head of the Monastery, Sister Angela.

 

“No Angela.  I was just, thinking about, things.”  She managed to get out.

 

The fair-haired sister looked down with her Mona Lisa like smile.  “Anything in particular?”

 

“Nothing really, just wool gathering I guess.” 

 

Angela just nodded and noted the slight blush that was risen to Anne’s cheeks.  She took a seat on the end of an empty bed.  “Actually I came by to ask a favor of you.  I was wondering if you could take this message to Jim’s village in Allendale.  I have had some strange portents and dreams and want to ask the village elder some questions.  Would you do this for me.”

 

Anne considered a moment before her reply “Of course.  If you feel it is important I’ll go.”

 

Angela stood and once again, Anne marveled at the woman.  Here she was, all of 5’5” and 125 pounds, but the head of the monastery carried herself with a presence that belied her size.  She wasn’t even really pretty.  She had short blonde hair and a face that had severe acne scars from her youth.  This still did not matter, The Lord had blessed her with the powers of light and when the power fell upon her she was terrifying to behold. 

 

Even when the power was not upon her, Angela didn’t let much stand in her way.  She protected this monastery and those within in as fiercely as a mother protecting her children.

 

Anne stood as well and began to follow Angela.  “But what about the patients…”

 

Angela did not even slow down, “Sister Myralos will cover for you.  Please follow, I have something else to speak with you on.”

 

They passed out of the chapel hall and ended on one of the outer walls looking out into the orchard.  In the orchard Brother Richard worked with his bees with his new assistant, Kieran.

 

Anne watched the work for a few moments, then realized that Sister Angela had been, studying her.

 

The head sister watched her for a time, her face unreadable, then finally said.  “You do remember that we are not a chaste order.  We allow our members to marry, even possibly have children…” 

 

“W…what are talking about…” Anne said with a look of panic on her face.

 

Angela smiled her ever-present smile and took Anne’s hand.  “Anne, I have been watching you for the last few months and seen this thing between you and Kieran.”  She held up one hand to forestall Anne’s reply.  “Child, you can deny it to yourself, but to others of us, its as plain as the scars on my face.  You have developed feelings for this man, deep feelings if my intuitions are correct.  These must be reflected upon.”

 

Angela turned and looked out at the fields for a moment and then back at her fellow sister.  “I believe he cares for you too.  How much, I do not know.  What I do know is that he is…different.” 

 

Anne continued to watch with some mounting anxiety as the head sister of her order searched for words

 

“He is a gentle soul, but I sense in him a wild streak.  It’s hidden away with all of his memories, but I know its there.  Even if he doesn’t know it.  He is no meta, but he is not like us.  I hesitate to say, not human, but he is different.  His knowledge, skills, senses, healing…it all points to…something else.”  Angela sighed and reached out to touch Anne’s hand.  “You have been hurt deeply in the past and I don’t want to see you hurt again.  Th…”

 

“Angela, Kieran would never hurt me.” Anne quickly drew her hand from her Sister’s.  “I know this.  I know this like I know my calling in life is to help and heal others!  I know when he’s stretching the truth or when he’s tired or upset.  He may be different but that doesn’t make him bad.  Besides I…” The rush of words stopped as Anne realized how she sounded.  Like a love struck schoolgirl. 

 

Angela stood quietly nodding.  “This is exactly why I want you to go on this errand.  You need to sort out all of these feelings you have and sort them out away from this man.”  She smiled as she said this last part. 

 

Anne was bright red and was felt quite flushed.  She just nodded not trusting her voice.  Angela had a knack for cutting to the chase and had done so once again.  Until she spoke up she didn’t realize some of the depth of her feeling for Kieran.  She had stopped before letting loose the words…“Besides I love him”.  This realization shook her to the core.  She had made a safe life for herself behind these walls, taking care of the needs of others.  Knowing her past she was not sure that she could commit anything so great to Kieran.  He deserved a woman who could love him completely.

 

“I’ve had been dodging the ‘L’ word, when it comes to men since the assault.  Now here I am facing it head on and seemingly sliding towards it uncontrollably.” Anne thought.

 

“Sister Angela once again you are correct.”  She spoke quietly and used the title out of respect.  “I now am doubly willing to take this errand for you.  Let me get my things together, tell Kieran were I am going and I’ll be off.”

 

“No.”  The word was said quietly enough, but had the force as if she had shouted it.  Anne looked somewhat hurt and confused at this.  Reaching out she gently took hold of Anne’s arm.  “Child, you need to get distance from him to sort yourself out.  Here you stand just realizing for the first time that you may have true and deep feeling for him; feelings that might not be in your best interest at this time.  Now you are going to tell him you are going away?  No. I need you to gather your things, get a horse from the stable and leave.  Do not take a route where you will be tempted to look at him, or where he can approach you and ask your business.  Simply leave and face this journey.  You need to have your head clear when you reach Allendale and need to have yourself sorted out a bit better when you get back.

 

Once again Anne only nodded.  There was a lump in her throat that had not been there before and she feared she could not talk around it.

 

She took the sealed envelope from Sister Angela and briskly headed towards her room.  Most of the way she blinked rapidly to see properly.

 

Angela watched her go and sighed.  Though love was a wondrous thing, you had to be careful whom you gave your heart to.  She looked out in the orchard and watched Kieran.  Not for the first time the sister wondered who he really was.

 

 

Kieran helped Brother Richard finish checking the hives and once again wondered who he really was.  He worked hard to help anyone with anything about the monastery that needed it.  He was so grateful to them for taking him in while he waited for his memory to return. Though he tried to avoid thinking of this, his mind kept returning to the puzzle of his existence.  Angela had said he wasn’t a meta, but Kieran realized that he wasn’t normal either. 

 

Since he came here in June, he had exhibited some unusual characteristics.  It became apparent to him that he had greater strength than most everyone here did as well as a fantastic stamina.  His senses were also sharper, but he could not be sure if they were better, but he did notice more than most.  Kieran worked hard to hide these, though they could have been explained by a variety of things, that didn’t explain the other happenings.

 

None of the animals ever reacted to him negatively.  The watchdogs never barked at him.  The horses and chickens never shied from him.  The pigeons and wild animals never seemed disturbed by his passing.  Even working with the bees.  Not once in the months of helping Brother Richard had he ever been stung.  This was even when the occasional bee worked its way into his clothing…

 

As if thinking his name roused him into action, Brother Richard finished up with the bees.  “Okay, Kieran, lets get to the chapter house and see what Lisa has whipped up for lunch.”

 

He allowed this to break his train of thought, reentered the monastery, put away the tools, coats and screened hats.  They entered the chapter house and Kieran followed Brother Thomas through the gray stone passages.  Again his mind returned once again to the question of his existence and he pondered who he was. 

 

One of possibilities he contemplated was that he might have worked for a government organization before the war.  That would explain possible enhances strength, stamina & senses.  But there were other things that this didn’t cover.

 

Turning the corner, the smell of food disrupted the train of thought.  Members of the monastery sat around the table.   Lisa was stirred some soup and the loaves of bread she had been baked cooled on a rack.

 

Kieran looked around the room, there was Brother Richard, Lisa, Lay Brother Galen, his wife Winona and a couple of others.   As he spoke their names in his mind, from some hidden recess the meaning for their names became apparent.  Richard meant powerful, wealth, Lisa was Hebrew for Dedicated to God, Galen meant calm and Tranquil and Winona meant first-born.  This  happened when his mind wasn’t really focused on anything specific.  Kind of like now, when he was meditating upon he crux of his existence or lack thereof.

 

The first, time this happened he was still in the infirmary and had asked Anne her name.  She said. “Anne Conall.”  Kieran said the name like he was trying to ‘taste’ it.   He turned and said “Anne means ‘Beauty’, like the moon and Conall is a name that means tall and strong.”  Then he nodded his head as if continuing to mull something over, his eyes far away. 

 

Anne had decided to play along. “Ok mister scholar and how do you know this?”

 

Kieran opened his mouth and said.  “I…uh, don’t know.”  As he said this the light in his face vanished.  Shaking his head he said, “I’m sorry Anne.  I wish I could tell you, but it’s all blank again.”

 

Anne had nodded, smiled and patted his hand.  “It will come back, eventually it will come back.”

 

He took a seat by Brother Richard and Lay Brother Galen; Kieran waited quietly for the rest of their shift to assemble.

 

Sister Naomi seated herself across from Kieran.  He looked up…Naomi, mean pleasant.

 

“Kieran are you ok?” She asked.

 

Mentally he shook off the cobwebs and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.  I had some really strange dreams.”

 

Naomi smiled brightly.  “Perhaps that means your memory is coming back.”  Her voice held a hint of excitement.

 

“Perhaps.   I can only hope.”  He smiled at her and hoped it made her feel better. 

 

A number of the sisters had thought that the amnesia was all for show and that Kieran was putting on an act to get sympathy and free room and board.  Anne and Naomi were amongst the few who believed that his condition was genuine.  After a time of pulling up knowledge without knowing where it came from, others finally came to believe the truth in his condition.

 

Kieran could never tell were he knew things from, but he did.  If fact he knew quite a few thing, herbology, wood working, stone masonry, animal husbandry, first aid and medical skills.  He was also conversant in history, theology, psychology, philosophy and mythology.   This was really strange, but if asked to perform any of his skills or asked a direct question about them and he could do it or reply.  If asked to extrapolate or where he learned it from, he could not remember anything.

 

The one factor that assisted in proving his amnesia was the fact that he had absolutely no technical skills.  Kieran was not stupid, but he had no aptitude with technology beyond a certain level.   This became apparent when Frank him for help with some maintenance on the solar panels.  The lay brother had figured that with all his other skills he would be a daft hand at this.  He was wrong.  Though the damage to the equipment was not unrecoverable, it became apparent that beyond simple mechanical devices, Kieran was all thumbs. 

 

Winona smiled at Kieran and said.  “Kieran, grace us with a song.” 

 

Smiling, he quietly stood and mused what would be appropriate for the moment and then opened his mouth and sang.

 

The thing that he did do well was sing.  Once they had discovered his talent in music, Kieran was singing all time.  There was some general discussion as to whether he had some minor meta powers with voice, because his voice was phenomenal.  His voice carried a range of four plus octaves, without using falsetto and he had perfect pitch.

 

When Kieran discovered his talent for music and stories, it became part of his duties to provide music and stories at mid day and evening meals.  He never minded this because it was one of the few times he could forget the pressing dilemma of his identity and become, ‘the bard”.

 

Though he couldn’t pull up details on his musical training.  He could evaluate and contemplate his ‘bardic’ skills.  This was especially useful when he told stories at dinner.  Since there was no longer any electronic entertainment available everyone looked forward to his stories and songs.  Kieran did have to alter some of the stories he told, in their original forms they were…inappropriate for a monastery, but if he changed a character here or an outcome there, the stories were something that would not offend.

 

There were times that Angela watched him intently during the evening story time as if waiting to see what he did.  She never said anything, but he was almost positive she had heard the original stories and was waiting to see where he took these versions.

 

Kieran ended Dans Le Jardin, In the Garden by Claude Debussy in French, sat down and finished his lunch.  The others clapped and thanked him for the song.  On the way out Sister Angela stopped him.  He immediately could tell that something was wrong.  Her continence was unreadable.  “Kieran,” she said.  “I need to talk to you…”

 

 

Anne sat in the cave with Sister Lina and watched the dim fire.  They were far enough back that anyone who might pass this way would not notice the light of their fire.   This place was a waypoint that was occasionally used.  Lina had checked it out first to make sure nothing had taken residence in it.  Lina was one of the few metas at the Haven of Light.  She could turn herself and others invisible.  Strangely enough, Kieran has said that her name meant light.

 

 She had thought about Kieran a lot on the way to Allendale.  Some of these thoughts were less than chaste.  “There’s all that long red hair that I wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through.  Then there are his green eyes that seem to hold an expression of impish delight and sadness at the same time…” Anne’s mind would have continued cataloguing his body parts, but she forced herself to stop.  Sighing quietly, not for the first time and reached for her prayer book.  Perhaps if she meditated on some scripture an answer would present itself concerning her problem with Kieran. 

 

To her surprise the lump that should have been her prayer book was replaced by Kieran’s pouch with his strange tarot-like cards. 

Anne had always found herself drawn to these but never said anything to him about it.  How in the world had these gotten in her possessions?  Anne remembered that she had packed her prayer book.  She pondered this as she looked at the cards again.  A guilty thrill seemed to run through her.  Even though these belonged to Kieran she had something of his with her.  That made her feel better. 

 

As she looked at the figures in the firelight, she began to see that they bore some resemblance to her love.  Yes she had at least resolved to think of the man in those terms, even if she could not voice it yet. 

 

She turned the next card and her thoughts were interrupted as she looked at the image of a beautiful woman.  Now here was more than a passing resemblance.  The woman stood before a window in profile, with a book in her hand.  Outside the window were the moon and stars.  Luxurious red hair fell about her shoulders.  She wore an elegant emerald gown and her green eyes seemed to stare out of the card.

 

Anne shivered and grabbed her cloak and drew it around herself.  She thought she felt a cold breeze.  Even the card itself seemed to grow cold in her hand.  Glancing up Lina sat and watched the entrance to the cave.  She yawned as she looked at the image again.  The woman seemed to move and talk to her.  Gently Anne fell asleep.

 

Anne noticed that the fire had burned low when Lina shook her awake.  “Anne your turn for watch.”  

 

As Anne awoke, the other Sister gathered the stack of cards from the floor where they had fallen.  Looking down at her hand Anne was still was holding the picture of the red-haired woman. 

 

Lina asked, “Where did you get these from?  The artwork is great.  Did someone at the monastery do these?”

 

“No,” she replied and replaced the card of the red haired woman with the others and put them away.  “They belong to Kieran and I was studying them seeing if there was anything I could discern about them that might help him recall who he was.”  It wasn’t exactly a lie.   The cards did belong to Kieran and she did want to see if there was anything about them that might help him.  She just didn’t mention that she was unaware of how they came into her possession.

 

Anne rubbed her hands together and asked. “Is it okay if I build the fire up a little, I’m chilled.”

 

Lina shrugged.  “Just as long as it doesn’t burn too brightly.  Keep wrapped in your cloak as well.  I feel fine.”   As if to demonstrate this, she reached out, rolled up her cloak like a pillow and drifted off to sleep.”

 

Ann added some kindling to the fire and rubbed her hands together.  Her right hand was still slightly cold. In fact the card had felt cold as she was waking up.

 

She stood and looked out at the entrance.  She had dreamed of the red-haired woman in the card she had held.  Stern, yet caring; this person loved Kieran but could not care for him as she wished to.  In the dream they had talked for a long time, she blushed because some of the discussions had been very frank, but their details were fading, even now. What she did remember is that the woman grudgingly approved of her and swore her to protect him…

 

As she stared out at the opening the memory of the dream faded even further.  An hour later Anne would no longer remember the dream nor remember that the trump cards had found their way into his possession.  In the morning, her prayer book would be back and the trumps gone.

 

 

Kieran sat at the top of the tallest trees on the hilltop near the monastery and watched the sky.  The branches he was stretched up should not have been able to support his weight, nor should he have been able to lie on them, yet he did.  Part of him relished being able to do this, the other part feared what would happen if anyone saw him. “I don’t know how long I can continue like this.  The others must be wondering about me.”  He said to himself. 

 

Sister Angela had been all grace and tact when she had told Kieran that Anne was on an errand for the monastery for a couple of days, but he knew something was wrong.  There was far too much cushioning in the tones of voice and the way she said it.  The head Sister was never that gentle with people, unless she was concerned about their well being.  She watched him very closely as when she said this.  Almost as if she expected a larger reaction than she got.

 

Angela had said that he wasn’t a meta, but even she could not avoid the fact that he wasn’t exactly normal either.  “Was that why she had sugar coated Anne’s leving?” Kieran contemplated, if perhaps he was some kind of escaped experiment.  Though he couldn’t recall anything he had heard or read before, it felt familiar, like a theme out of a story or one of the tales he told.  From the fog of his past, the story of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein popped into his mind.  Kieran did not look like a patchwork man, even so he knew definitely wasn’t like the others.

 

Even the three metas that the haven of light housed were different.  There was Sister Lina who could turn herself and others invisible.  Sister Morissa, which was Latin for Dark One, could project screens of force that could stop bullets and other things, as well as concentrate them and project the energy like cannon balls.  Finally there was Sister Angela.  He had never seen this, but she was said to be blessed with the power of Light.  Beyond their power the were just normal people, nothing like him.

 

He had heard tales of Angela’s transformations; becoming a being of light, calling angels from heaven and wielding a white blade.   A number of other things were attested to her, but he was unsure of these.  Rumors were all he had to go on.

 

These stories were quietly told, never in the hearing of one of the Brothers or Sisters of the monastery.  But they were told with a certain amount of pride instead of fear.  “I doubt that my differences are told with pride,” he thought darkly.  He had never caught any actual conversation about his differences, but it couldn’t be much longer.

 

He stared out at the night and felt as empty and cold inside as the sky above.  He had taken Anne’s leaving well, at first, but he kept wanting to talk to her, kept wanting to be near her.  Even if it was for a moment.  The burden of who he had become much heavier in her absence.

 

“Why?” He whispered to the sky.  “I don’t know who I am and I’m going or what I am.  The only person who really understands me has be sent away….”  Tears streamed down his face.  “Great Maker, if I was forged in darkness I do give my oath now to shelter the light.  What ever I was before I am not so now.  I will serve, protect and preserve as she does.  Though I know myself different I swear to endeavor to try serving as she does as long as I can be with her.  I would pledge myself to her, if only I could be sure I wasn’t a danger to her…” 

 

A wracking sob shook the man and further words were lost. Sorrow and loss swelled within his soul.  After a time a song sprang from his lips.  It was a mournful and painfully melancholy thing.  It rang through the trees and was ventured forth into the night.  As the beast of the woods heard it, they too joined in and lamented along with him, seeming to share his pain.

 

Only one person heard it.  She listened and did not recognize it as any language spoken on earth.

 

Angela stood before her window, listening to the song, feeling as though her heart would break with the pain of it as Kieran’s pain became her own.  She desperately wanted to do something to ease his pain, but her intuition said to leave this alone.  Looking into the sky as well she grumbled.  “God, while I appreciate the insight you grant, it would help sometimes to know the wheres and whys of theml.”  God chose not to reply.  Regretfully she turned, closed her window and left Kieran to his song of woe.

 

 

The city of Allendale was utterly deserted.  Not a living thing moved, except for a few birds, and they made no sound.  The surrounding wildlife was silent as well.

 

Anne stood beside Lina and watched the scene; both had been rendered invisible.

 

Sister Lina laid a gentle hand on Anne’s shoulder and whispered.  “Stay here.  I’ll scout ahead.”  Anne turned to object.  “I am much more skilled using this power and when I am like this I can see further into the spectrums than the power allows you.  Besides someone will need to keep an eye on the horses.”

 

“Fine.  I’ll stay.”  Anne stood crossing her arms sulkily.  Even though Lina was strong enough to make the horses invisible too, animals tended to panic when put in this state, sensing something strange was happening to them.  The monastery could ill afford to loose them; they were still too valuable a commodity.

 

Sitting down against a tree Anne continued to work out the situation of herself and Kieran.  She knew that she loved him and she knew that she had issues she needed to work out trusting men in general.  What she needed to learn, was if Kieran cared for her even half as much as she cared for him.  The thought of possible rejection terrified her.  She started to mentally follow that train of thought, but after a few moments shoved it away.  Mentally taking a breath, she thought, “This is going to be productive.” 

 

Anne turned her thoughts to other avenues and mused on a variety of ways to broach this topic with Kieran.  She was lost in thought when she heard the sickening sound of something hacking into flesh and then the horses screamed.

 

 

Lina had sprinted through most of the remains of Allendale when she heard the horses scream.  She nearly screamed at the sound herself after what she had seen in the courthouse.

 

Allendale was the remnants of a small Arkansas town.  The few building that had been the center of town, stores and the like now served as the town itself.  The inhabitants farmed the local land and raised livestock. 

 

Lina had searched the strangely town.  There seemed to be no sign of trouble or people.  Animals still were here, but every one that she passed noticed almost none of its surroundings.  It was as if someone had given them all a mild sedative.  Chickens absently scratched and pecked at the ground but did not even notice the dust disturbed by her passage.

 

The houses were all in order, some tidier that others, but no sign of struggle or danger.  In some, food sat spoiling, untouched on the table as if the inhabitants had stopped eating and left. 

 

There was also the presence of an odd energy signature in the air.  Though she did not have extensive experience with understanding everything she saw, this was unlike any she had ever seen before.

 

She had moved through several housed and finally entered the courthouse.  It was then, that the quiet surreal atmosphere of the town changed to that of deranged nightmare.

 

The first sight she was greeted with was a woman sitting slumped in a chair at a desk.  Several metallic-looking spikes had impaled her to the chair.  Blood was crusted to the back of her dress.  The face of her corpse was frozen into a beatific smile.  Her hands were on the desk holding a pencil.  The paper beneath it was blank except for its title; “What I really like about being dead.  The first thing I like is…” then the words stopped.

 

Strange energy signatures hung thick in courthouse, like a smoke in a closed room.

 

Lina continued moving through the building.  The bodies of the former inhabitants of the town littered the rooms.  A couple had been slain in an attempt to flee: scorched and slashed.  Half had been…arranged in bizarre parodies of life and killed like the woman by the front doors, each with a glazed happy expression.  The other half had been horribly mutilated, flayed, dissected and then artistically arranged like abstract art. Symbols were drawn in blood on the wall. One name was repeated on the walls throughout the building, Tirgon.

 

Lina had vomited after seeing the first flayed corpse ‘art exhibit’ and dry heaved a number of times as she moved through the building. She was desperately praying that somehow someone might have avoided this hideous fate.  Her prayer became a litany that she wrapped around her sanity.  The sanity held, but the prayers were not answered. 

 

When finished, she ran from the building, trying to escape the vision of ‘Hell on Earth’.  Some part of her felt that this horror needed to be prayed over.  Something evil had transpired in that building and it needed to be cleansed, but fear continued to drive her feet even after the horses screamed.

 

 

Anne watched as a group of men walked over to the dying horses.  The three seemed to wear body armor.  It covered them from shoulders to feet.  One man was playing with spike that was identical to those that had been driven into the horses.  It seemed about two-foot long and metallic.  In spite of her fear she crept closer to the men.

 

“Hey Spike, nice shot.”  The bald man said.  He turned to scan the woods and revealed eyes, which glowed with an electric blue light.

 

Spike made a bow and his long blonde hair fell forward.  The hand with the spike moved across his waist as he bowed. “Thank you Joul.” Straightening he raised his hands and seemed to be addressing an unseen crowd. “Thank you. Thank you.”

 

The third man with close-cropped dark hair shook his head and watched the area.  In a thick southern accent he said. “Perhaps you wanna shout our location to whomever rode these beasts here?”  His foot swung out and kicked one of the dying horses.

 

Spike thumped his armored chest with a gauntletted fist.  With a midwestern drawl he said “Garrote, you are too cautious.  With this armor we scavenged, even the Rebels would have trouble with us.”  He chuckled

 

Garrote continued to scan the trees and brush for signs of people.  Holding his clenched fists before him he drew them sharply apart and there hummed into existence thin bright glowing red ‘wire’ between his hands.  He let it grow slack, looped it around the head of one of the dying horses and drew the ‘wire’ taunt.  To Anne’s horror the horse quit twitching as the energy wire sliced quickly and cleanly through the neck.  The head fell away.  Blood began to pour from the wound.  Without a word Garrote moved to the second horse and performed the same maneuver without any display of outward emotion. 

 

Spike watched and seemed to drink the scene in.  Joul appeared indifferent.  Garrote turned to spike and letting go of one end of the wire and it grew.  He flicked his hand as if it was a whip; the wire cleanly sliced through a tree limb that was near Spike’s head. 

 

Jumping back, Spike yelled.  “Damn!  Watch what you’re doing with that thing!”

 

Showing his first sign of emotion, Garrote smiled coldly and said in a deceptively mild voice.  “Don’t worry Spike, you’re wearing body armor.”  With that he turned, his expression cold and walking away.  “We need to find Gargoyle.  Whoever came here needs to be found and dealt with.”

 

Joul laughed and followed Garrote.  Spike began to follow, but not before facing his palm toward the corpse, materialized a spike and with some unseen force, fired it in what was left of the horse.

 

 

Kieran sat on the wall that surrounded the monastery and tried to conjure Sister Lina and Anne into existence by force of will. 

These last three days had been hard.  No one mentioned hearing singing and the beasts of the woods crying out the first night after Anne had left, but Sister Angela seemed to coincidentally show up in the same places as he was.  It may have only been his imagination, but still he felt she watching and waited for him to do something.

 

He struggled and seemed to succeed at not letting anyone know the torment he was feeling.  Anne seemed to be the only one that really understood him.  Well not always understood, but she listened without reservation and her presence seemed to make his complete lack of identity not so great a thing.  Kieran felt her absence deeply. 

 

Then in the distance as if he were a magician of old, there a horse rode up the trail at a gallop.

 

Kieran leaned forward and focused in the distance.  On the lathered beast’s back rode Sister Lina and Anne.

 

He loosed a cry of joy and jumped off the wall to the ground outside the front gates.  One of the lay brothers, Glen, stared wide-eyed.   Kieran had dropped to the ground and stood grinning as if he had only jumped down 4 or 5 feet, not the 20 foot from the top of the outer wall of the monastery.

 

Kieran was so excited that it took until the horse pitched forward just a dozen feet from the gates to realize that something was wrong.  Both Lina and Anne were covered in dirt and sweat.  Their clothes were torn and both looked very haggard. 

 

He was helping the two of them to their feet when Frank came running with Sister Angela close on his heals.  Glen had grasped that something was wrong long before Kieran had and went for help. 

 

The sight of Anne in this state seemed to rob Kieran of speech, but it spurred Angela into action.   “Sisters, what happened?”

 

Lina was the first to speak.  “…the city of Allendale…gone.  There is a rogue group of metas that have been trying to kill us. 

I tried to loose them, but one is a mind reader of some kind and has been following us.”  The blood had drained from her face as she said this.  “Forgive us Angela, I think they are following us here.” 

 

No one spoke for several heartbeats, then Angela rocketed into action.  “Frank and Kieran, rouse the brothers and sisters and get to the armory.  Anne, gather those unable to fight and take them into the cellars of the chapter house.  Lina, get Sister Morissa.  I need to discuss strategy and everything you saw these fellows do.”

 

Kieran wanted desperately to talk to Anne and make sure she was all right, but he followed Frank.  Instincts were pushing aside the confusion that he had been feeling for days.  As he went into the weapons room looking at kevlar body armor, pistols, rifles and automatic weapons of all sorts and somehow this felt familiar.  The certainty grew in him that his previous life had entailed a great deal of conflict.

 

 

Gargoyle landed and touched a switch on his goggles.  The telescopic sites reset themselves and filters that screened out the extra light that was so damaging to his eyes continued their work.  His metallic skin glistened in the light of the setting sun.  He surveyed his men and smiled an unpleasant smile.  These were his men, gathered together for a glorious goal.  Under his leadership, he had taken these different metas and turned them into a cohesive group, The Hand of Tirgon.

 

Though the glorious Lord Tirgon had been banished from this plane of existence, Guy Daniel was visited by a dream showing him the way to bring the Lord of Destruction back to this world.  Oh his wife had been upset, but he solved that by making her his first sacrifice to the Dark Lord.  He then left his home and began his unholy quest to restore his new Lord.  Even Superman had gotten into the spirit of it by destroying Washington DC and all those sanctimonious politicians there.  When he stumbled across “The Suit” and he knew that this was his destiny. 

 

The Suit gave him skin as strong as steel, enhanced strength, wings to fly and razor sharp claws.  The only drawback from the suit is it caused sensitivity to light.  Such were the sacrifices on the road to destiny. 

 

Guy had since given up his name and took to forging The Hand.  Even his men had left their names behind and took up new identities in search of their quest.  Timere, who could compel and manipulate people through their emotions, Spike who projected titanium strength projectiles and rapid fire them as such a rate that could punch through steel.  Joul could project bolts of electricity and become intangible.  Shroud drew life force from others and surrounded himself with shadows that could withstand most energy blasts.  Slingshot could fly, project a personal force field and hurl non-living objects like bullets.  Then finally Garrote, who’s energy wire/whip would cut through almost anything

 

Everyone but himself, Slingshot and Shroud wore full body armor, thanks to some of Lex Luthor’s troops that had extended themselves too far beyond his sphere of power.  Timere never wore a helmet because he said it interfered with his mental powers.

 

The only two in The Hand that had ever concerned him was Timere and Garrote.  The bio-suit made Gargoyle immune to Timere’s mental powers.  Since Timere was not a physical sort, the threat of having his eyes tore out was always good persuasion.  Garrote was another issue.  He followed along, but didn’t seem as enthusiastic as the others about restoring Tirgon.  The former assassin treated this like it was a nine to five job, instead of the glorious quest that is truly was.  The energy wires were something that could damage him through the suit.  That was until his newest acquisition. 

 

With this he looked down at the ring on his hand.  It was made of some strange black metal that even his claws couldn’t scratch.  The ring was in the form of a serpent with only one ruby red eye.  It was in the possession of someone who had gone to pave the path to Tirgon’s return, but this seemed to have some sort of mystic properties.  Nothing seemed to harm him while he wore it.  Unfortunately it didn’t save the rude brute when Timere compelled him to remove the ring.

 

Gargoyle was still smiling and thinking of this as he landed.

 

“All is ready.  You know the drill.  There is rumor of one meta behind the wall, but it will be nothing for us to crush her.  This blasted “haven of light” will fall before us and hasten the return of The Great Lord Tirgon!”  The men shouted and rallied with him, all except for Garrote.  Ignoring this Gargoyle launched himself into the air.  “Hand, strike!”

 

 

Sister Angela stood before the gates of the monastery praying.  She hoped that a show of power would drive these vermin away, but not before they were brought down.  They had slain an entire town, down to the last child and from what Lina said, they needed to be stopped.

 

Men came running up the road towards the monastery.  Two in the air, one with a slight blurring around him, the other was metallic with wings.  Standing with confidence and pushing aside anger and fear, she made one last quick prayer and approached the men.

 

“You are not welcome here.” Her voice was strong.  “This monastery is holy ground and sanctuary.  Unless you swear to certain conditions you are not allowed here. 

 

The two flyers continued to hover above the ground.  The metallic one cackled with that tone that Angela had learned to recognize as that of the hopelessly insane.  “Woman, we know this.  It is the reason we came here.  Once we draw pain and suffering from your frail flesh.  The desecration of these grounds and your ritual deaths will bring about the entrance of Tirgon in this world!”

 

Whatever reaction Gargoyle was expecting, it wasn’t what he got.  The woman closed her eyes, drew her thumb, index and middle fingers together and touched her forehead, chest, left upper chest and then right and quietly said “I step into the light and am transformed.”

 

The next moment light poured out of her and she grew.  Her five and a half feet frame grew to nearly seven-foot tall.  Her hair became a long golden tress that spilled down her back.  Where she wore simple jeans and a work shirt, she was now reined in golden armor with a large shield and brilliant white sword.  A pair of wings as white as snow launched her into the air.  “In the name of The Lord, you shall not pass.”  Her voice carried a vibrato that didn’t sound completely human. 

 

Fear began to scuttle about in Gargoyles brain.  Then a tiny voice was whispering to retreat.  Then another thought blazed like balefire through his brain.  If they slew this messenger of light, it would all but guarantee that Tirgon would come!

 

The Hand had drawn back but was in a defensive position and waited on the word from Gargoyle.  Taking a deep breath he screamed.  “Kill them all, for the glory of Tirgon!” 

 

All hell broke loose.

 

 

Kieran hear the words “Kill them all, for the glory of Tirgon!”, then the front gates of The Haven of Light burst forth in a flash of lighting, hurling shards of wood and steel everywhere.  Sister Morissa was ready and the shrapnel bounced harmlessly off of the force shield that she had erected.  Frank had a grim look of determination on his face.  “If they think that because we are priests that we won’t fight back, they need to look back in the Old Testament because the Jews were not afraid to work towards the glory of God, fight and kill to defend themselves and their faith.” 

 

Morissa shouted a command “Now!”  From her previous instructions the armed members of the monastery opened up with a plethora of automatic weapons, pistols and rifles.

 

Kieran noticed almost immediately that the metas wore body armor and the bullets bounced off of them.   “Damn!” he swore.

 

Then suddenly everyone began to stop firing.  He felt a kind of fuzziness himself as if he had taken a sedative.  Everyone including Sister Morissa had slack expressions and began to walk with weapons down towards the gates.  “No, stop!”  He screamed.  An almost identical scream came from behind him as Anne came running from the kennels into the fray in body armor. 

 

A pair of metas came running into the compound.  One had blonde hair framing his face in the helmet and the other, a mild looking man with dark hair and eyes, but without a helmet.  Behind them sound of battle raged.

 

The dark haired man spoke in a smooth voice that resonated strangely.  “Surrender.”  The fuzziness in his head seemed to slide around but nothing more.  All around him the members of the monastery dropped their weapons and fell to their knees. 

 

Anne screamed and from the stables leaned against the wall and began to fire with her AK-47.  Kieran immediately began to fire his M-16 as well.  The dark haired man jumped behind blonde screaming.  “Spike, stop them I can’t touch their minds.”

 

Raising a palm at each of them he shouted.  “I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you, so why don’t you both stick around.”  With that a flurry of metallic spikes flew through the air towards the two.

 

Some hidden instinct kicked in for Kieran and he dropped to the ground, rolled to the right and then tumbled left and came up in a crouch.  He groaned as one of the spikes glanced at an angle off of part of the armor and bruised his ribs.

 

A scream erupted from Anne’s lips; she hadn’t been so lucky.

 

He turned to look.  Anne stood pinned to the stone wall of the stables with a spike through her left thigh, left shoulder and right breast. 

 

Spike smiled and said “Oooh that’s gonna leave a mark.”  His attention was drawn back to Kieran as the man loosed a long scream in a voice that did not sound human.  It was more like a roar that a scream.

 

“AAAANNE!  You bastards!”  Something in his mind tore.  The fog of amnesia that shrouded him mind was partially thrown back as the tragedy triggered memories and instincts that had been hidden away.  Without any conscious thought he reached into his boot and drew forth the dagger.  It seemed to melt and ran like mercury down and reformed itself as a gauntlet on his left hand.  A thing of polished black steel.  Kieran raised his left hand and some thing began to materialize in the air before him.

 

 

Sister Lina waited in the courtyard with the others when the gates blew open.  Her job was to play sniper and emergency medic if needed.  It didn’t seem the noblest use of her power, but a bullet to the back of a head compared to the deaths of her new family here helped to change her opinion.  She immediately realized the problem with the opponent’s body armor.  Lina wanted to move herself into a better position to take a shot but not be shot.  The problem with invisibility in combat was that no one could see her and didn’t know she was in the line of fire.  Then the man without the helmet looked at her and her emotions went topsy-turvy.  How could she hurt him, he was the man she loved…of course she would surrender.  She was walking towards him when bullets began to fly.  One clipped her shoulder.  The force threw her to the ground.  The suddenness and pain of the assault caused the compulsion to leave her.

 

The little bastard!  He needed to be taken care of immediately.  Picking up her Hammerelli .22cal pistol, she quietly moved around behind the two men.  She preferred it due to its range of a quarter mile or more, yet is still just as good at close range.  Lina had managed to move out of the way before this Spike guy began to fire his namesakes.  The sister stepped behind the dark-haired man she was getting ready to grab him when Kieran screamed. 

 

It startled both men and as he was gathering some thing in front of him.  Lina shook herself she took advantage of their surprise and grabbed the little man’s hair and put the .22 to the back of his head.  “You have a very dark little mind.  I think we need to let in some light”, then pulled the trigger.

 

Timere shuddered and feel forwards. 

 

Lina dropped and rolled in case Spike decided to turn and fire in her direction.  He didn’t but she was glad to have moved because something unexpected transpired

 

 

Spike watched as the red haired man’s eyes changed going from a green to a glowing violet.  Then a swirling darkness appeared before him; a writhing mass surrounded by red tendrils so dark they were almost black.  Then he took a deep breath and screamed.

 

The sound hit him like a mack truck and hurled him against one of the far stone walls.

 

Then he spoke in a voice that sounded like it had been run through a synthesizer with the base turned way up.  “Little man you like to play with spiiikes?   But you have dropped some…”  A dark smile touched his face.

 

Tendrils moved out and touched the spikes that were imbedded in the ground around the man.  Then they wrapped themselves around the spikes and then poised themselves like cobras and swayed back and forth.

 

Spike looked into those violet eyes and saw his own death.  Not waiting to see if the armor would protected him, he turned to run but was too late.  A tendril with one of his spikes slammed through his armor pinning him to the wall.  It was followed by another and another and another.   Each of his arm and legs was firmly anchored to the walls.

 

Then in a voice as cold as the void the violet eyed man said.  “Oh, I forgot, and one more grow on.”

 

The last tendril darted forth and pinned Spike’s head to the wall.

 

 

Angela knew she was in trouble.  One of the metas had blown apart the gates of the monastery and after two had rushed in, the gunfire had stopped.  Out here she fought against five to one odds.  Not only that, they were organized.

 

The creature known as Gargoyle had made strafing runs and slashed at her with its large razor claws.  Two on the ground were firing lightning and bolts of darkness at her.

 

She was able to deflect the lightning with her armor and shield, but the dark bolts were only slowed by the armor and seemed to drain her of her strength.

 

The other man who had been flying had landed, took pieces of what had been the gate and surround stone that had been shattered in the lightning assault and launched them at her as well.  It was took all her skill and power just to defend herself.   The fifth man had managed to disappear.

 

“God, I beseech you to send aid, or this your haven will fall to darkness.”  She cried.

 

Just at that moment Gargoyle struck her from behind and above and caused her to fall toward the ground.  Angela noticed that Kieran had moved to the open gates, but something was happening to him.

 

 

Kieran stalked to the gates and rage rose off of him in waves.

 

“How dare you attack this place.  It is holy ground, sanctuary and a house of God! Most importantly, this place is under my protection!  You want to play with power, then power you will see!” he bellowed.

 

All eyes were upon him as he transformed.  Though he was not fully conscious of what he did, a part of him was.  His form was not static, but could change and take on the form and power of other creatures.  Kieran spread his arms and allowed the transformation to come. 

 

Clothing tore and bones snapped as he transformed.  Skin thickened, darkened and became scales.  His arms and legs drew in.  Hands and feet became clawed talons.   His middle expanded and wings sprung forth from his back.  He now stood before them as a dragon; purple and green so dark they were nearly black.

 

Garrote, who had withdrawn to watch the battle with Sister Angela, seemed untouched by Kieran’s transformation.  He stood to one side and prepared his energy wire.  He used it like a whip and lashed out with it.  The wire cut deep into the dragon’s back and shoulders, nearly severing his right wing.

 

Kieran had taken a breath and had prepared to breathe on the flying creature that hovered over Sister Angela when Garrote tore into his right flank.  He turned his serpentine neck and released his white-hot energy breath.  There was a splintering sound and the villain was thrown back over one hundred feet, narrowly missed getting smashed into the edge of the building and out of sight.

 

Sister Angela lay on the ground as she tried to catch her breath.  The meta attackers were stunned by Kieran’s transformation.  She was shaken as well, but the whole fighting for her life thing had buffered her from most of it.  She needed to use her ‘Ace-in-the-whole’.  She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and the world went away.  Some small part of her mind desperately hoped that the villains were focused on Kieran and that he could handle things for a few moments.  The rest of her mind floated suspended in light while she called on The Guardians.

 

Responding to instinct Kieran took a moment, focused his mind and started his body repairing the damage that Garrote had inflicted upon him.  His shapeshifter’s flesh complying with his mental command. 

 

Loping forwards he turned to face the bald man who was surrounded with a halo of electricity.  His current form was fairly resistant to electricity any way.  The dragon lashed out with his claws and made to tear off the man’s head, helmet and all…but his claws passed through the villain. 

 

Joul had phased just a split second before the claw would have taken off his head.  He didn’t know what to do, except respond by pouring lighting back on the creature.

 

Kieran growled and shook his head.  The lightning burned, but he shrugged most of it off.  Balling his left claw together he began to summon power as he listened to the prompting of the gauntlet that had also transformed itself to match his new form.  In his mind he called the power that he had used before…The Logrus, yes that was what it was called. But before he had fully had it called up, dark tendrils shot from the shadows of one of the assailants; wrapping themselves around his neck and forelimbs.  Kieran then felt the sickening sensation of his strength being drained from him.  Numbness seemed to seep into his mind as this happened.  Growling and shaking his head, he lashed out at the tendrils, but his claws passed through them, as they were psychic constructs and not physical ones.

 

He had not gotten the logrus fully summoned, but now threw his will into it.  The air around the gauntlet rippled and The Logrus appeared again as a dark green mass, and the dragon commanded their tendrils to lash out and entwine themselves around his assailant’s tendrils.

 

“You want to drain Power and Will.  Let me introduce you to The Logrus!”  His voice boomed.

 

The Logrus tendrils began to glow brighter and brighter.  Shroud struggled and seemed unable to detach himself from the dragon.  The man shook and screamed.  He continued to struggle as a first one, then another and another shaft of green light shown out from the shadows of his form.  Kieran was fully expecting to see the man burst when his concentration was shifted.

 

Slingshot watched Shroud starting to glow with the green power he was being force-fed.  He had seen Shroud drain a person dry of all life-force a still not be ‘full’, but now… Quickly shaking off his shock, he mentally grabbed a good sized bolder and lobbed it at this creature’s head.  “Let’s see how you deal with this,” he hissed.  Slingshot did not wait to see if the boulder did any damage.  He telekinetically hurled dust, sand and gravel at the creature in a torrent.

 

A fifty pound rock struck Kieran in the head and caused him to see stars for a moment.  The logrus vanished and Shroud fell to the ground his tendrils gone as well.  The shape shifter turned to this new attacker and was blinded by a blast of sand and gravel. The stones did little damage to his hide, but his eyes were not so defended.  He roared in pain and spat white energy at the last place he remembered the man standing.  His energy blast went wide, gouged a hole into the ground and provided more shrapnel for the assault.

 

Kieran felt something land on his back and began to slash into his hide.  He roared in pain, reared and tried to dislodge his unseen assailant.  The creature dug in with its clawed feet and could not be unseated.  Kieran tried to whip his head around to breathe on it, but was rewarded by a viscous slash to his muzzle and neck.  He folded his wings back and rolled over on the creature.  Its only response was to stop slashing when he started to roll and hold on.  When he was upright again his assailant began his assault once more

 

Slingshot continued to pelt Kieran’s face so he could not open his eyes.  Knowledge awakened to him.  Drawing up the power of the logrus, he called on The Sight, which would allow him to see into the mystic realm to see if he could locate these individuals.  In his mind’s eye he saw three, no the four assailants.  The shadow one was weak, but not dead.

 

The dragon whipped his head around and breathed his energy breath on the winged creature…and he sensed the power flow around it.  He could feel that it had some kind of mystical protection.  

 

Before Kieran could fathom it further, Angela’s aura flared to life and not just her aura, but two balls of pure energy with her.  Though he didn’t really need to physically face a direction to sense what was happening, he did out of habit.  He suddenly realized that he could open his eyes because the shrapnel assault to his head had ended.

 

Before him stood Angela, looking like an Archangel out of legend.  To either side of her…a Cherubim.  These creatures appeared to be a mass of eyes, wings and pure light.  Strangely they radiated no mystical presence, but they did radiate power.

 

Angela spoke up in a strong voice “Turn now minion spawn and face the messengers of Light!”

 

With that Light poured forth from the two newcomers and struck Slingshot and Joul.  The two men screamed.  Angela hurled her sword at Gargoyle, knocked him off of Kieran’s back, but did not damage him in the slightest.

 

Kieran looking down and noticed that Shroud had vanished completely.   “Serves him right.” He thought.

 

Suddenly a stream of red energy flew towards Angela left side.  Kieran roared a warning “Look out!”  She barely got her shield up in time to block the deadly thread and it crackled against the shield and drove her back.  Angela looked to where the sword fell, lifted her hand and it flew into her grasp.  With a cry she dove at the man and they began to spar, energy whip and ‘angelic’ blade.

 

Shrapnel and Joul were struggling against the two ‘beings of light’, hurling back lightning and shrapnel, it was obvious that they were outgunned.

 

Kieran looked around and spotted Gargoyle in the air as he prepared to launch himself on Angela’s back.  Then he ‘saw’ through his ‘second sight’ that the creature bore a ring.  Suddenly he recognized the enchantment and the ring itself.  It was a protection device created for him years ago by a cousin of his.

 

“Beast!” he roared.

 

The creature stopped and started at him.  “You have something that belongs to me.  I want it back, now!”

 

Gargoyle hovered for a moment and then began to dive at Kieran.  “Take it if you can”

 

Kieran still held the power of The Logrus and hurled it at Gargoyle.  Tendrils of red Logrus struck the villain with such force it knocked him back and he crashed fifty feet away.

 

Loping over to where the creature had landed, using the knowledge that began to return, Kieran unraveled a tendril of the logrus and creating a storm of spider web-like filaments.   They seeped through the warding shield the creature wore and made contact with the ring.  Once attached, Kieran gave a mental tug and willed the ring back.

 

The ring vanished from Gargoyle’s claws and reappeared about one of his.  While the leader of The Hand could not see the Logrus, he did see the ring reappear on Kieran’s talon and knew its significance.  He was frightened.  At that same moment there was a man’s cry and then it was suddenly silenced.  Angela had dispatched Garrote.

 

He locked eyes with Gargoyle and asked, “You desire demons and power do you?” Then Kieran spoke in a cold quiet voice.  “Beware when you stare into the Abyss, for sometimes it stares back.”  Power flared about his dragon form and he arched up on his back legs and spread his wings.

 

Gargoyle began to crab crawl backward away from the dragon.

 

Then in a light voice Kieran said.  “If you want power so bad, then by all means, have it.”  From the depths of his being he called power.  The gauntleted left claw clenched.  Red tendrils of logrus sped towards the silver-gray devotee of Tirgon.  They spun and danced around him faster and faster.  They grew longer and wider, going from red, to deep red and then to black.  Eventually nothing of Gargoyle could be seen but a ball swirling blackness.  From its depth came a primal scream of such terror that didn’t even sound human.  It quickly crescendoed and then faded away as the ball grew smaller and smaller.  The sound vanished entirely along with the black ball.

 

Angela looked around at the two men that had been hurling lightning and shrapnel.  Both were smoking corpses.  With a thought she thanked the Cherubim and they returned from whence they came. 

 

Though she spoke softly, the words seem to almost ring out in the silence.  “Kieran, what happened to him?”

 

The dragon had sat with its head lowered.  Turning his neck he met Angela’s neutral face with a far away look and said.  “I…sent him to The Abyss.”

 

Angela opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it and closed it again.  Turning back towards the gate she saw Lina as she stood in the opening; tears streamed down her face, her clothes in tatters.  In a voice that was barely a whisper she said.  “Angela, Kieran, you need come...”

 

 

Lina has jumped out away from Spike earlier and just narrowly escaped being stabbed with one of the spiked tendrils.  Kieran then went to the entrance and transformed into a dragon.  Energy blasts and stones like bullets began to fly.  She was of no use out there.  It was more than likely she would be struck by a random blast than able to get into a decent position to help.

 

Turning back she realized that when Spike had tried to hit Kieran and Anne, he has carelessly sprayed the area, and hit some of the entranced members of the monastery.  Then Lina saw Anne.  She rushed to her and tried to carefully pull the spikes out of the wall to get the sister down, but they wouldn’t budge. 

 

Lina then realized that Anne was still conscious.  Air bubbled from the wound in her chest.  Though in terrible pain, her eyes were riveted on battle outside and what Kieran had become.

 

She rushed over to try and rouse the others.  After a time she managed to wake some of them.  Sister Morissa erected another barrier only moments before lightning spilled through the opening into the courtyard. 

 

They began to wake the others.  Frank was by far the strongest person there.   Lina brought him over to Anne to see if he could pull the spikes out of the wall, but even under his ministration, they were still firmly lodged into her and the wall.

 

Lina tore strips off of her clothes to try and staunch the blood.  Perhaps if Kieran and Angela survived they could help.

 

There was a scream that roused everyone in it primal fear.  Slowly walking to the open she feared what she would see but went anyway.  She was pleased that both of them were still alive, but Kieran had icor running down his back.  Turning back she saw Anne’s head drop and feared the worst.  Morissa nodded and dropped the force shield.  Struggling to speak the words she said, “Angela, Kieran, you need come…” but couldn’t finish.

 

The dragon shimmered and vanished to be replaced by a gashed and cut man in scraps of cloth that used to be his clothes and body armor.

 

Kieran realized that in his rage he had forgotten about Anne.  Forgetting his pain he ran inside.  She was still spiked to the wall, but her head was slumped and she was covered in blood.  Raising the gauntleted hand, the logrus came into being and three sapphire lines of power that reached out from it and touched the spikes.  Each vanished in a flash.

 

He caught her when the spikes were gone.  Gently he laid her on the ground.  She was still breathed, barely and blood flowed from her wounds.

 

Weakly she reached up, trying to touch Kieran’s face, only succeeding in closing his eyes for a moment.  Though unable to speak, she mouthed the words.  “…not afraid…love you...”   

 

Her breath came in a shudder.  Kieran leaned forward, placing his face over hers.  “I love you too my dear.  More than life itself.”

 

With that he placed his lips on hers and kissed her. 

 

Kieran slowly glowed with a light that poured out of him and into Anne.  As the light grew brighter his wounds seemed to grow uglier and bled.  Still the light grew until none in the courtyard could look directly at it, except for Angela.  He poured power into her, giving his strength and life energy to Anne.  He used his shapeshifting power to transform and restore her.

 

Finally the light vanished.  Anne lay on the ground completely healed.  Kieran lay beside her, not moving.

 

 

Sister Angela returned to the infirmary.  A number of The Order were recovering here.  Beside one bed sat Anne as she patiently watched over Kieran.

 

When it was realized that Kieran wasn’t breathing, Sister Margaret had pushed forward and started CPR.  Others began to pray.  Anne had not stirred yet and Angela feared that the lad had truly given his life to heal her, when he took a shuddering breath.  His condition did improve after that, but slowly. 

 

Anne awoke within the hour and would not leave his side.  Angela herself had to command her to rest the first night.  She now slept by his side.  Something about her was different now.  Perhaps it had been being at the point of death.  Perhaps it had been that she was touched by…power?

 

Anne turned as she seemed to sense that someone was watching her.  She gestured for Angela to come over. 

 

“How is he doing?”  Angela asked.

 

“His wounds have healed enough to no longer need to have the wrapping changed.  We can get him to drink a little, but he’s still unconscious.”  Anne replied.

 

Angela sat on the edge of the bed and seemed to think.  Finally deciding to broach the subject she said.  “How much do you remember about the fight?”

 

Anne pondered this quietly for a moment.  “Everything.”

 

Reaching forward she lay her hand on top of Anne’s and said.  “Then you saw what he became and did.  Are you sure…”

 

“I love whom I love.”   Anne said simply.

 

“But he…” 

 

“I love whom I love.”  This time she said it in a firm tone.

 

Angela withdrew he hand and sighed.  She had seen things.  Her dreams indicated that these two were now bound to each other.  She had wondered how deeply.  This man was very powerful and some sort of…magician.  “Lord,” she prayed, “Please watch over these two.”  Perhaps it wasn’t too late from keeping these two from possibly making a mistake.  She had begun to try and caution Anne about giving her heart to someone she didn’t really know; when Kieran groaned.

 

“Why do I keep ending up in this room.”  Kieran croaked.

 

Anne smiled and it seemed to light the room. “I thought you were going to leave me.  Don’t ever leave me again.”  A single tear rolled down her cheek.

 

“Never my love.  I am your always.”

 

The two were oblivious to everything else but each other.   Angela stood and left.  She needed to give some serious thought to what to do with these two.  Any chance to keep them from running headlong into life together had vanished.

 

In the infirmary of The Haven of Light, destiny began to take shape.