Hey everyone, oh who am I kidding. Hello single reader. This is the story of an original character in the Dresden-verse. Most of the characters are going to be original characters for the first few chapters. I plan to have the story slowly connect to the Dresden-verse proper as the story goes on. Here is the first chapter. I hope you like it.
Id Finds a Friend?
There is an older internet meme, which shows a picture of someone looking at something with horror contorting there face, and the text, "That which has been seen, can't be unseen". That is what I have been told anyways. I have never been on the internet. When I get within about thirty feet of advanced technology it tends to break down, and catch fire. Light bulbs, computers, cellphones, modern cars, even a guy's pacemaker have all come across my field of screw-you-twenty-first –century, and all lost, but I digress.
Getting back to unseeing things. For most people it is almost impossible to truly forget something and get the image out of their head. Over time by somehow not focusing on the offending image, an interesting task in itself, the image will fade to the back of your mind. The rub is that it isn't gone. It just waits for something, anything, to remind you of it. Then, it come roaring to the front of your mind and you have to start all over again.
Those who use magic like I do, have a power that is usually just called the sight. It is a way of expanding you consciousness to the point where you see everything as it truly is. This may sound cool at first, but you see everything as it truly is. You see the monster that lurks in the normal visage of a man, you see the saintly aura of holy places. You even see the wounds and pains of all you look at. The other part is that these things are not just visual. The sight affects every sense you have.
The other problem is that what is seen by the sight, is truly with you forever. The sensations never fade. The feelings never dull. The image is burned into you. It is like a knife that is twisting in you, and you can never pull it out.
When I was younger I took a drug called "Three-Eye". The drug forces the sight open, and keeps it open until you come down. While on it I saw horrors that are beyond descriptions. In order for my being to survive I must have cut my mind apart, and thrown away every part incapable of handling the sensation. I lost the first twelve years of my life.
I often wonder what happened during those twelve years. I have concluded that there were some troubles, I was doing drugs after all. I tend not to brood on these things. It is just a black void, and focusing on it makes my head hurt.
So I just move forward.
I walked down the streets of a random city in the USA. I like walking the mortal world. I spend more than half my time in the Nevernever. The Nevernever is a sort of plan that touches the normal world. The normal world shapes the Nevernever, and similar places are held together in the Nevernever, but can be extremely far apart in the real world.
I once left New York City for the Nevernever, walked ten feet and exited the Nevernever into Hong Kong. So my geography is shaky at best. I know how to get to all sorts of places in the real world, but I almost never travel a way that anyone could really follow. Again I digress.
I walked down a street that was covered in a thin layer of frost. Judging by the slope of the road, I was in a mountainous part of the country. I was wearing my troll skin duster, and had it buttoned tight. The place was chilly, not cold.
As I walked down the sidewalk I watched as peoples phones, and lights flickered and died. I made it a point to walk closer to a loud man yelling at a Bluetooth. Have to do some community service sometimes.
I walked past an alley. I heard a door slam open, someone let out a hiss of pain, and then the clatter of trashcans being body slammed.
I turned to my right. My right eye is blind. The eye itself is milky white, and the flesh around it is covered in old burn scars. The flesh is red and warped by keloids. I don't give a rat's ass about how I look to others, but the lack of vision on my right side is a pain in the ass.
I turned expecting a fight maybe. I get jumped more than you would ever guess, but I still hold out for that one day that I get surprised with cake. I saw a girl about my age pulling herself to her feet. She was thin, and about average height. Her long brown hair was held away from her face by a grey bandana. She wore a loose grey t-shirt, worn jeans, beat-up black sneakers, and a black waist apron.
She pulled herself to her feet and dusted herself off. She looked up at me. the left side of her face was purple and swollen. The revealed skin on her arms was covered in smaller bruises. "What are you looking at?" the girl in grey asked.
"A girl in grey, pulling herself out of a pile of trashcans," I said. I pulled a cigar out of my pocket, bit the tip off, and lit up. "Ignitus," I muttered quietly. The tip of the thumb of my metal clad right hand burst into a small blue flame similar to that of a butane lighter. This was a small spell; it required almost nothing other than a moment of focus.
A large man in a white shirt, brown pants, and a greasy apron appeared in the door his face a blocky, and red. His square face was set with an angry scowl. "Emma, get your ass back in here. Lunch hour is going to start in five minutes."
"Screw you Kenny," the girl in grey said. "I've been here since five. I'm taking my break. If you have a problem, talk to Chrissie. She can handle it for the fifteen minutes of my break."
The girl in grey pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit it off of my still burning finger. I extinguished it.
The large man called Kenny looked at me, and then back to the girl in grey. "Who is this burnt bastard?" he asked pointing his thumb at me.
"Random guy with a lighter," the she said.
"You better be back in here in ten minutes," the large man said darkly. He shot us both and angry look, and went back inside slamming the door behind him.
"He throw you into those cans?" I asked. There must have been a hint of apathy in my voice.
"Don't sound concerned," she said sarcastically. "No, I fell down the stairs yesterday. Check this out. She raised the left leg of her jeans above her knee. The knee was purple and swollen just like her face. I bumped it on the door frame, and it gave out on me. So what happened to the side of your face?"
"I made a deal with the wrong sort of people," I said. I pulled my hip flask out of my pocket and took a swig. I like cinnamon schnapps mixed with a bit a tabasco. I offered the flask to her.
She took a swig. "Yuck," she said handing it back. "Thanks, but that stuff is bad."
"Meh," I said, and took another swig.
"where did you get that coat?" she asked. It looks like good leather.
"Troll skin," I said. "I killed one, and one of my little brothers made all this for me." my boots, pants, and my cap were also made of troll skin. It looks like grey leather, but will stop bullets, and blades quiet well.
"Did you say troll skin?" the girl in grey asked. She chuckled a little. She paused for a moment. "Sorry, my name is Emma Grant." She offered me her hand. "What's yours?"
I live with the fae. They never give out names easily, and I learned to not give mine. Good thing I don't know my true name. "Id Grendal," I said as I took her hand. I felt a jolting spark of energy. She had a power of some kind. Strong power too.
My eyes narrowed, and so did hers. Her hand tightened on mine, and then quickly let go. She took a step away from me.
"Where did you get those bruises again?" I asked. I still didn't care about her injuries, but the source of them, could be a potential threat/enemy. It is best to keep that list updated, and detailed.
"I fell down some stairs," the girl in grey said. She was either telling the truth, or a good liar. I've never been good at reading people.
"Who did you make a deal with," she asked. Her eyes narrowed.
"Titania, Mab, Prometheus, some guy named McCoy," I said. For those of you at home, that is a rather large number of deals, but the people I made them with is the impressive point.
The girl in grey's eyes went wide. She took a step back. "I told the White Council to leave me alone."
The White Council is the ruling body for wizards, and any mortal that can use magic. They tend to bully those that are of lesser power to follow there laws. I had been told on several occasions, that while I can't be part of it, I still have to follow their laws. Eldest brother told me to play along for now.
"I don't work for them, in an official capacity," I said. "truth be told I don't like the White Council much." I don't much like the work they give me either.
"Do you work for Kemmler?" she asked.
Kemmler was a necromancer that declared war on the White Council. He was killed most recently during WWII. I doubted he was dead. Killing a necromancer is a lot like weeding a garden; you have to keep doing it every so often. I personally had nothing against Kemmler. He hadn't done anything to me.
"I didn't think he was dead," I said. "What is after you for?"
The air changed from chilly to cold. I felt the wind increase and bite into my exposed skin. I smelled a faint sickly sweet scent of decay. I heard the grinding, crunching sound of bone rubbing on bone.
I felt my adrenal glands spring into motion. My heart rate increased, and my body felt empowered. I was ready for the fight. I was prepared. I could do this.
That was when the sight opened.
Ever since I took three-eye, my sight has been completely out of my control. This has led to some of the worst experiences of my life. It has also shaped me into the burnt bastard I am today. I closed my eyes not want to see. This did absolutely nothing. I took a deep breath and turned to face the new arrival.
It was a bone centipede. A bone centipede is one of the more obscure and horrific creatures a necromancer can make. What happens is no less than five people are taken and ritually slain in a way that causes them to suffer as the flesh is slowly rent from their bones. Then, their bones are arranged to form a grotesque, serpent-like structure. Finally they are brought back to a tormented and subservient life using magic.
What, you want me to tell you how? Not happening. Google it.
I looked at what it truly was. To the naked eye it was a rattling, creaking, and grinding mess of horribly arranged bones with glowing blue eyes, but to me it was infinitely worse. I saw them. The people it was made of. They were bound to the creature, like heathens to the rack in the dark ages. Their bodies were pulled to and beyond the breaking point. Their real bones, cut, and ground against their spiritual bodies. I heard their screams. They never ran out of breath, nor did their suffering diminish.
The sight shook me. I felt my body moisten from a chilling sweat, and my legs lost a little of their strength. The truly twisted part of a bone centipede is the only way to destroy it, and set the poor souls bound to it free also hurt them. They felt the pain for the creature. The damage done to it was inflicted upon them as well.
That was when I heard it.
Da-da-da-dum, da-da-da-dum, da-da-da-dum. The pounding of a drum. Perfectly in time never missing a beat. This was an important part of necromancy. The beat simulates the beating of a heart, and is used as a focus to keep the undead a necromancer raises under their control. It the beat stops the undead goes mad, and attacks everything it can, until it runs out of power or is destroyed.
The beast stopped in front of me. It had that stillness that only the undead are capable. I turned toward the sound of the beat. A man stood on the roof of the diner. He wore a black cloak that hid his face to the mortal eye. A drum was tied to his left hip, and he tapped it gently in a practiced and almost compulsive way.
What I saw was a twisted rat of man. A creature that lived off the scraps and greatness of another and loathed it. His eyes were blinded to his own vanity and how his snatching at power would lead to his inevitable demise. I also saw his true name. what I lost in control I gained in capacity with respect to my sight. Whatever I look at with I see the true name of.
This is not a tremendous deal for normal people. For supernatural creatures and wizard though, it is the equivalent to own a chunk of them. I have never found this to be that useful, but then again most of the names I know are of beings a thousand times greater than me. Yet again, I digress.
"Who are you supposed to be?" I asked the rat of a necromancer.
"I am a master of death," he said still drumming. "I am a wielder of the forces that all men fear. I am the great learner of mysteries never meant to be known. I am a god made flesh."
"That's pretty a pretty big speech for a guy named Kendall," I said.
He almost missed a beat. "How do you know my name, worm?" he demanded.
"I am he who smokes Cubans. I am the bearer of the scars of knowledge. I am the one true burnt bastard," I said. "I am Id Grendal."
Again he almost missed a beat. "Are you mocking me?"
"No," I said in a passable attempt at an earnest response. "I'm just working on my witty banter. Now, in your opinion am I being charming, snarky or a magnificent bastard?"
"Enough," he snarled. "You are obviously mad. Leave now and I might forget about you. My job is to get the girl anyway."
I turned to look at the girl in grey. I felt something in my all too fragile equilibrium break. My heart hammered. My head pounded, and even my absolute sight blurred for just a moment. I try to not feel. I try not to be human. Not that I strive to be a monster. I just found that holding still, and being quiet makes it hurt just a little less, and by not feeling anything the pain almost goes away…almost.
I felt the tears rolling down my left cheek, the right one never really works anymore.
Why?
I turned to the Rat of a necromancer. I felt the burn of an emotion that was at least easy to bear, and wield. Anger, no, Rage forced my sight shut, and returned my vision to normal.
I pulled all of my power to me. This fight was going to end with something turning to ash.
"Id!" a voice that was almost ecstatic shouted. "There you are!" someone grabbed me from that ever so attentive right side. I felt the warmth. I smelt the sweet aroma of lavender and coconut. I felt the supple form hold me tighter. "Today is Tuesday. You know what that means, right?" I felt teeth playfully nibble my ear.
I felt my power diminish, and something that was almost worthless in a fight begin to rise. I felt the corners of my mouth rise in spite of the situation. "Lita you have the worst timing of anyone I have ever met." I said.
"Why is that?" she breathed into my ear.
"Stop ignoring me!" the necromancer named Kendall shouted.
Lita let go of me. She circled around behind me and appeared on my left side. She was average height, and beautiful. He black hair fell in elegant wavy locks that she never seemed to worry about. Her blue eyes sparkled in a gentle, yet mischievous way that was only aided by her radiant and playful smile. She was best described as lithe, and graceful. I have never seen her stumble.
Her wardrobe changes constantly, and varies from modest to a fault, to high-octane fetish fuel, and everywhere in between. Today she wore tight jeans that still allowed movement, and an even tighter t-shirt that said "The word of the day is legs. Spread the word."
"Is this guy for real?" Lita asked loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I know you should hear this guy," I said. "Hey Kendall, could you give us the god made flesh speech again?"
He almost missed the beat yet again. His pounding on the drum had grown much louder. He was almost hammering the drum anymore.
He muttered something that sounded German, and a jet of fire shot at us. I grabbed Lita and used my body as a shield. The flames hit me. They were nearly 1773 Kelvin. The flames danced around me like a stream of water around an immovable rock. I watch the flames lick my flesh. I felt the heat, and I laughed. My back began to blister and crack. The flames went away.
I turned to the necromancer and gave him a toothy grin.
"How are you alive?" he shouted. His rhythm almost faltered. The bone centipede rattled slightly.
"I'm immortal," I said. I pulled another cigar out of my pocket. "You got a light?"
He muttered something in German again. Lightning flew at me. I stepped to the side just in time. The bolt hit the wall behind me, and sent shards of broken rock flying everywhere.
"Lokionus," I roared back. A spear of fire shot at the necromancer. He dodged to the right, and flames just missed the drum. He didn't break rhythm. He also fell into my trap. The jet of fire was made from all the energy I could take from two cubic meters of air. That small volume was now about 7 Kelvin. And he was standing in it.
The flesh on his hands cracked and flaked off in large chunks. I can't be sure, but I would guess he had similar results with the rest of him. The amazing part was that the drum didn't crumble nor did his hands stop the beat, even as he bled.
The bone centipede charged me.
"Hey Necrophile!" Lita shouted. "Look at this."
I turned in time to see her lift up her shirt. It was a sight I had seen before, but one I have never complained about seeing. The drum stopped. I may not like this guy, but at least his priorities were in the right place. The bone centipede veered from me and headed towards the rat of a necromancer. He jumped from the roof and landed next to me.
The Bone centipede turned towards us. It rattled. We all froze.
"Why isn't it charging?" the girl in grey asked quietly. "Is its vision based on movement?"
"No," the necromancer and I said together.
"What is it doing?" she asked.
"Waiting for one of us to separate from the group," the necromancer said.
"On the count of three, we all run to the left," I said. "Ready?"
"Wait," the necromancer said. "Three, then go, or go on three."
"Go on three," I said. "One, two, THREE!"
None of us ran. None of us even twitched. The bone golem rattled expectantly.
"Well," I said. "I guess we are all a bunch of assholes."
"You were trying to trick one of us to run away from the group?" the girl in grey asked angrily.
"To be fair, I was trying to get Kendall killed," I said.
"Fair enough," the necromancer said. "On the count of three, we all run to the left. One, two, three!"
We all ran, to the right. Our movement spurred the bone centipede to charge us. He was faster than us. The girl in grey, was slowing down. I don't know why, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
"New gal-pal?" Lita asked running alongside me with complete ease. "You two match each other."
The girl in grey waved her arm, and a tear in reality opened before us. I saw the Nevernever stretch before us. We made it through.
"Close the barrier," panted at the girl in grey.
Too late. The necromancer made it through. The bone centipede also managed to get through.
This part of the Nevernever was mountainous and frosted. I saw a small cave ahead of us. I made my way there pulling the girl in grey along with me. That was when she shot forward with a speed that rivaled bullets, and pulled me along. Her grip was like an iron vice, and I saw the bruises quickly vanish from her arms.
We reached the cave. Lita arrived a nanosecond after us. The necromancer dived in just before the bone centipede slammed into the entrance of the cave. It was too big to fit inside it slammed against the rocks again, and then a third time. It rattled at us. After about five minutes it began to pace outside the cave.
I lit my cigar. "So how many people are in that thing?" I asked the necromancer.
"Six murderers, three rapists, a pedophile, a con man, and a Satanist" the necromancer said.
"Not a bad selection," I said. I tried to use that to not let the image affect me. It didn't help, not even a little. No one deserved what those ten, not so innocent souls were going though, at least not when it was inflicted be mortal hands. "You do realize that thing was way beyond your capacity to control?"
"All I had to do was keep the beat," the necromancer said.
"Great job at that by the way," the girl in grey said. She beat me to it.
"It's not my fault that this one decided to flash me," the necromancer said.
"Yes, that was the problem," I said. "Undead abominations aren't a big deal. Tits, on the other hand, end worlds. What are you, twelve?"
"You're one to talk kid," the necromancer shot back. "Those were some of the crudest spells I have ever seen. How long have you been studying magic, five years?"
"I've been at it for about three now," I said.
The bone centipede slammed into the cave wall again. Dust fell on us in great waves.
"You really should do something about that thing," Lita said to us.
I had been stalling on that. I really didn't want to inflict more suffering on these already tortured souls even if they had been world class A-holes in life. The second issue was we were technically in winter territory. The fae are divided into three main categories, Winter, Summer, and the Wild Fae. While none are inherently good or evil all are dangerous to one degree or another, Winter Fae don't like me. I literally burnt that bridge when I was twelve.
Fire magic is in the realm of Summer, and using it on Winter's turf would certainly piss them off. The other problem is cold has no effect on a creature like this bone centipede. The inherent magic was made of cold and death. That meant I needed fire or life. Thus the Catch twenty-two.
"Here the plan," I said. "Sunrise is about twelve hours away. I say we gather every ounce of strength we got, and if need be we fight. Until then, I say we hold and wait. The sunrise wipes the slate clean as far as magic is concerned.
"Need I remind you that today is Tuesday," Lita said impatiently.
"I hate to tell you this Id, but this place is going to take three weeks before sunrise," the girl in the grey said. Time works differently in the nevernever than it does in the real world, but it is still tied to it. Some places like this one have fast time. Hours here were minutes in the normal world.
"Well then," I said finishing my cigar. "I say we eat Kendall first."
"Isn't it a little early to start eating people?" the girl in grey said.
"Fine," I said, standing up. The low cave ceiling kept me almost doubled-over.
I gathered my power to me. Time to end this.
I rolled up the sleeve on my right arm. My right arm, shoulder, and the upper half of my chest are cover in a red metal called promethean steel. It was burnt to my flesh, and while I could take it off if I really wanted to, it would take a significant chunk of my skin with it. So I just ignore the itching. It is also a tool that lets me focus my magic. It turns my already powerful magic into an unstoppable onslaught.
I focused, drew my power to me, shaped it with my mind, and shouted, "Candisus!" I reeled my arm back and hurled a sphere of white hot fire about three feet in diameter at the bone centipede. I forced all the heat towards the creature. The forced a lot of the air in the cave to expand towards the mouth, and knocked the beast back several of its large steps.
I charged out of the now icy cave.
That blast hadn't done the damage I was hoping for. Oh well that just meant I needed to hit it harder. I gathered my power to me again.
The bone centipede struck at me like a crocodile. I jumped to my right. Not smart, but I was short on time. I landed on a rather unforgiving rock hidden under the thin snow. I rolled to my feet. The thing was on me again. I had just enough time to fall backwards onto that same rock. The bone centipede sailed over me.
I felt a gathering of power. I turned to see Kendall the necromancer raise his arms over his head. He barked something that I can't even hope to spell in that Germanic tongue of his. I rolled just a crushing pillar of gravity hammer the bone centipede, and nearly me with it, to the ground. This focusing of gravity on that area made the gravity around it much less. The force of my rolling was enough to lift me off the ground.
I spun to my feet. The bone centipede dug itself out of the crater. I gathered my will again "Candisus!" I shouted hurling another ball of white hot fire at the beast. This blast was a lot like the first, except it was nearly twice as big, and I just let the excess heat radiate out of it. My head was pounding. Using magic requires a force of will most people just don't have.
The fire hit the beast right in its face like region. Bones popped, and a sizzling sounded was easy to hear. The ground melted around the bone centipede. It fell to the ground and ceased to move. The bones scattered revealing the torn and now well-done chunks of the people's flesh. It sort of smelled like pork.
I turned toward the necromancer.
We watched each other silently for a moment. We sized each other up. We were both tired, but nowhere near exhausted. The question was which was weaker. Who had lost more? Could one of us finish the other? Who would make the first move.
I slowly reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigar. I lit up. "So, you still on a big kick to kill us?" I asked.
"The thought had crossed my mind," the necromancer said.
"Mind if I ask a question?" I asked knowing the irony of the question.
"Why not," he said. He pulled a pipe out of his pocket, and proceeded to light up as well.
"Why make this thing out of those particular people?" I asked. "I mean you're already making it, does it really made who it was made out of?"
"I never thought I would be able claim moral high ground in this," he said. "Those people were evil. They killed, stole and raped for no purpose other than their own pleasure. They were also completely unrepentant. Most were proud of their misdeeds. I take no pleasure in making this thing, but I feel no pity for them or regret for what I have done. I needed a powerful helper, and they needed to be stopped. I find my solution fixed both of these problems."
"Interesting," I said. I wanted to take a few steps see if that worked the knot in my back, but I was pretty sure that would provoke an attack. "You do realize that is completely in-fucking-sane right."
He stiffened.
"I get what you're saying," I said. "I probably would have ganked them too. But, when it comes to twisting their souls in an almost unending torment, I have to say that is really messed up. I guess that is just the difference between us. I just tend not to care, and you are a raving psychopath. It is just who we are."
He roared something in that German tongue of his. A wall of red fire hit me. This time it was barely 986 kelvin. He wasn't focusing that well. It must have been something I said. I just stood there and let it hit me. The flames did nothing to me, but it did finish my cigar. I don't mind people attacking me, I've grown accustom to this. I draw the line however when you mess with my cigars.
"Lokionus!" I shouted again.
He muttered something a wall of gray light formed between the flame and him. The flames and the line of cold that I hoped to hit him with were stopped cold. Shields, I hate shields. I really hate shields that work.
He raised both is hand roared something in German and brought them down. I charged forward. This was a risk I had to take. Truth be told he was probably better at magic than I was. He was definitely more versatile then I was. Judging from what I've seen though I was guessing he wasn't as good in a fist fight. I also could move faster forward, and guess he thought I would be on the defensive.
I was right. The ground behind me dropped several feet. I used the temporary lack of gravity to launch myself at him. I slammed my metal wrapped fist into his face right where his left ocular was. I felt the fragile bone protecting his eye crack. I followed that up with a vicious blow to his throat. No talking, no magic.
As I guessed, Kendall couldn't take a hit. He staggered backwards using his hand to protect his face. I hammered his floating ribs. I felt the one on his left crack as well. He fell to the ground, and curled into a ball. I paused and saw he had no fight left in him. I kicked him, twice hard. He was going to be pissing blood for a while.
I turned and saw them. Five massive trolls. They cackled gleefully. They stood eight feet tall, and were built like trains. I have killed several of them before. When I did, it was one on one. And this time, I had blown all my juice on other idiots.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the largest and ugliest of them said.
"If you wait around long enough my brother will be coming around. He is much bigger than me, and would make a much better meal." I said as I pulled out my last cigar. I tried to light it, but I didn't have enough juice. "Any of you guys got a light?"
They continued to laugh and slowly encircled me.
"I reckon you will make a great appetizer," the big one said. Damn. Were they getting smarter?
Well that was chapter one. I hope you are starting to get a feel for the characters and starting to like them anyways. Please guess what the characters are supposed to be. They are higher level characters based off of the Dresden Files RPG. Thank you for reading, and please review. Oh a fun little game try and guess what the characters are. No prizes other that bragging rights.