Chapter 11: Once More, The Drama Begins

Chapter 11: Once More, The Drama Begins.

Sixteenth Entry.

Around eight days ago, we have encountered the demons that call themselves the Kluthu. They are warlocks! Their cities are massive, no human civilization could compare with their enormity… or their evil.

But just as well, I wish we had never gone over the mountain. I wish we had stayed in that wretched jungle. The first Kluthu we met, Steven and I, were forced to kill. It was a most difficult battle and seeing as how they fought without honor with their wretched magicks, it was next to impossible. But nonetheless we have won. And now we are being pursued for such a victory! We had to leave our camp in haste again, forcing me to leave some of my entries behind.

The Kluthu are served by various demons, all of which are powerful either of magick or of brute strength. They are pursuing us relentlessly, always on our heels. Steven, the poor boy, is doing most of the fighting for this old man getting too old. And though he is masterfully killing the curs by the dozens he was already wounded several times. I think the human body could only take so much punishment, and one that is not even a man's yet.

The Kluthu want us alive, I keep thinking to myself. More importantly, they want Steven alive… The reason for which I already have a vague idea as to why.

The dear boy is a celebrity in hell!

But enough of that! Steven and I are building traps now. We hope that as we move again very soon (after I finish writing this entry down) the traps will stop the Kluthu and their minions, allowing us ample time to retreat back to the mountains and into the forests, hopefully, losing them there.

I don't kno…. The entry is torn and bloodied at this point

Connor's plan of retrieving the documents he needed consisted of making a quick and brutal stab at the head warlock's quarters while a cloud of poisonous gas covered his run - blitzkrieg tactics. It was all about speed, if the warlocks in the cavern gathered their forces then Connor would be in very serious trouble. There was another thankful variable, the sentries were easy prey and Connor didn't see any of the demon women that he had fought earlier in the warehouse.

Several cultist demons threw themselves at Connor but he easily fought them off while frying the others with a spiking red lightning from his hands. The poisonous smoke screen was still covering most of the cavern and none could get an accurate sight on where Connor was. He was moving too fast. Cultists fell like flies when they inhaled the noxious gas surrounding their base, writhing on the floor, muttering counter spells to purge their bodies of the foreign substances. Others simply fell down dead. Connor, though, didn't mind the cloud of death, he was immune, he was in his element, he was suddenly back in Quar'toth.

Connor reached the head warlock's room. He looked around for a moment and saw what he was looking for: Papers containing glyphs and enchantments and markings. Maps! He was sure with the demonic markings. He grabbed them. It was time to go.

But before he could leave, Connor felt a blow on his back. He flew forward, still clutching his papers. He turned around and saw the head warlock clutching balls of flaming energy. They flew. He dodged them and rolled to a nearby desk and kicked it down as protection. The head warlock destroyed the desk with flick of his hand.

"You have a lot of guts coming here, you abomination." The head warlock walked in for the coup de grace, two of his followers were flanking him in case he needed assistance. "You should have listened… and just walk away!"

The dust cleared from the debris but there was no body. The head warlock looked around distressfully; his two immediate followers were dead. His other guards were struggling from the cloud of poison that was consuming every part of the cavern. No help was coming from them. He felt something behind him, turned around and saw two glaring black-red eyes staring at him.

"Hi," Connor said.

It took Connor less than five minutes to get out of the cavern and away from the ruckus he had created. Everything was almost great. He had escaped with reasonably less complications than expected and he had on his backpack what he came for. There were a few less demons for the world to worry about and he was home free with only a couple of bruises.

When he reached the place of the portal, however, something was wrong it was recently opened. Impossible he thought, all the demons and cultists were still back there. Unless….

Somebody had escaped ahead of him.

As Lawin jumped from the portal he felt a sharp blow on the back of his head. Someone had hit him just as he emerged out of it. He turned to see Urkonn standing over him, grinning malevolently.

"You should have just disappeared little traitor."

"Urkonn you overgrown son of a bitch! I'll hang what's left of your face on my wall."

"You and Anash deserve to die, boy! You and that whore should have known better than to cross us."

Lawin flashed a certain finger and then intoned a spell that would fry Urkonn, but it fizzled as he spoke the enchantments and Lawin was bombarded with pain in his head. "Arrgghhh!"

"Negation spell, boy! Can't use your powers here." Urkonn kicked him in the gut, throwing him across the alley.

Lawin spat a mouthful of blood. He was crawling but still conscious. Urkonn was approaching him, no magick, he was no match against the demon in hand to hand combat and so he knew that he was dead. Well goodbye, slick. Didn't I tell you were an idiot? Just as Urkonn was about to deliver the killing blow by stepping on his head. Urkonn was thrown across the place by something from behind.

"Hey, Stacie." Connor said to Urkonn. He was grinning maliciously. "Long time, no see."

"What is wrong with you two! Why can't you just walk away!" Urkonn was pulling himself to his feet.

"Hey Locklin. You know this guy?"

"It's Lawin you white boy. And yes, I have the dumb luck."

While Lawin spoke, Urkonn struck. Connor blocked the blow jumped back a few paces, tried a spell that fizzled and caused Connor to have a sharp pain in his head but he quickly got himself together and struck back with a kick instead. No magic! Connor smiled. He liked this kind of fight. Blood and Flesh. Pure and Simple.

Connor threw blows at every part of Urkonn's body. None of which seemed too give much effect. The overgrown demon reminded him of the Beast, big and deadly with no known weakness. Connor kept on like this until Urkonn managed a swipe with his hand and backhanded Connor against a far wall.

Urkonn wiped small dribble of blood from his mouth and smiled. "I was hoping to kill Lawin with my own hands but it looks like I'll just have to order my companions to help in killing you two." As he said this demons and cat like monsters were emerging from manholes and the dark part of the alley. "I never did fancy threesomes."

Connor was about to make another attack but Lawin grabbed the back of his shirt. "There's too many of them and they have spells in place."

"What kind of chicken shit reasoning is that?"

"Chicken shit reasoning that's going to keep us alive."

Connor looked over the entire alley. They were slowly converging on them. In a few more seconds, escape would not be possible.

"What do we do?" Connor asked.

"A reservoir's not far from here. I have a plan. Help me up."

"Can you walk?"

"Barely."

Connor dragged Lawin to his feet. Lawin limped while Connor fought off the demons. Urkonn saw that they were escaping but only exhorted his lackeys to fight, as if he was somehow afraid of the two of them together.

"Turn here. My bike's nearby."

Connor helped Lawin walk to a small enclosure where Lawin's motorcycle was hidden. Connor turned it on while he helped Lawin ride on his back.

"You know how drive one of these things?" Lawin asked.

"I learn fast."

"Uh, shit!"

The ride away from the alley to the reservoir had been the type where you bite your nails. The alleys were tight. Connor didn't get to the road because he didn't want to involve innocent bystanders with a pack of rampaging demons, so they maneuvered around the alleys until they were close enough to the reservoir.

Connor looked back to the demons that were chasing them, they moved like cheetahs. They were far behind but they were still catching up. Connor was panicking suddenly he made a mistake with his maneuvers and before they knew it, they were slamming against the ground and taking a mouthful of dirt. Thankfully they made it to their destination as they did.

"We're here," Connor said.

"Arrggh! You asshole! You wrecked my bike!"

"It's just a scratch."

The front wheel was nearly off. "You call that a scratch?"

"You can thank me for saving your life later. Come on."

As they bitched to each other, Urkonn reached a few yards away from them, his followers standing right next to him. He stomped on the fallen bike, destroying the bike with his leg.

"Urkonn! You son of a bitch!"

"Lawin. Time to join Amazarak."

At that, Connor threw a knife at Urkonn and followed through by creating a spell that caused Urkonn to be covered with poisonous gas, the negation spell was no longer around them. The demon staggered but was still up. He charged, struck Connor and Connor struck back. A few blows and they were brawling and knocking each other senseless. The other demons were encircling them now, wary of joining the fray but eager for the kill.

Lawin looked around for a moment. Connor had managed to drop Urkonn but the demon was clearly unscathed and was spoiling for more violence. The cat demons were gaining and were at the reservoir gate and Urkonn was just stalling them until more arrive. Suddenly, Lawin saw a ledge that led to open water.

"You know how to swim?" Lawin asked.

Connor followed Lawin's eyes. "I'm not diving in there."

"I'll take that as a yes. Urkonn can't swim. Hates water. So do his Garfields," Lawinb motioned at the cat demons.

Connor looked at the figure of Urkonn slowly rising up. "I guess we're going Baywatch."

A couple hours later, the boys emerged from the water soaking wet. When the two reached a safer place, a motel room in the part of town that didn't ask too many questions, Connor immediately threw Lawin against a wall and pinned him there.

"Remember when we last met?"

"Long talk?"

"You remember. I'm touched." Connor let Lawin slump to the floor, he was hurt bad but in no need of a hospital.

"So where are we?" Lawin asked.

"Random nondescript motel room in a seedy part of LA," Connor muttered.

"Whoah! I don't swing that way," Lawin joked.

"Really? I kinda thought you were gay by the way you dressed."

"Shaddup!"

Connor gave him a hand and dragged him to the couch.

"So, what were you doing there?"

"Me? What about you, mister 'this is not my life anymore?' What were you doing there?"

"The demons in that cavern are responsible for the recent disasters throughout the world. Tidal waves, earthquakes and the usual dooms day feelings. They aren't local. And when I say that, I mean they're not from this end of the universe."

"What made you think that?"

"The energy they were using could only be found from hell dimensions."

"How'd you… Oh, right. Warlock. I guess you know a lot about hell. So, let me get this straight. You were playing superhero down there?"

Connor only glared. "Your turn. What were you doing down there?"

Lawin considered lying but he wasn't sure if Connor would be on to him. "Someone I care about was attacked, disappeared. The people I've been working for have been suspecting that there was a traitor among them. Now one of them is dead and another is missing. So through the noble process deduction…" Lawin shrugged.

"Do you know who the traitor is?"

"No. But I have good idea who he might be."

"What is it that your people do anyway?"

"I wouldn't tell you even if I knew."

Connor saw that he wasn't lying. Whoever he was working for, they wanted him in the dark. "I respect that but you're still telling me why you followed me a few days back. And why you're still following me now."

"Back then? My orders. Don't know why but then again, they never tell me much. Personally, I think they were setting me up so you'd kill me."

"They're not far off about that." Connor went into the bedroom and began to change. Lawin was content to stay limp on the couch, too injured to move. "Why would your bosses want you dead anyway?"

"They don't. The people I'm working for are having a little civil war going."

Little! Hah!

"It just so happens that one of the factions want me dead because I'm more aligned with the other side. At least, that's what I think."

"So they were setting you up?"

"That's what I said."

"So, what were you doing in that place? The cavern."

"A few days ago, I was attacked in my apartment. Big John Woo shindig. Later, I found out that a woman of the people I was working for disappeared and I found her assistant dead in her home. My…uh employers haven't contacted me since then. And now, Urkonn…"

"Smurf guy?" Connor asked.

"Yeah. Wants me dead."

"And you know this Urkonn?"

"Yeah, he happens to be in the same job as I am."

"He's a demon."

"You'll be surprised the gray areas the Ancients get into."

Connor looked surprised and listened to more explanations and concluded that the people that this Lawin was working for had obviously betrayed him.

"So you see," Lawin continued. "You're not the only one being led around by the nose." Lawin paused for a moment then continued. "You really were trying to find a way to stop the disasters weren't you? I mean doing a good deed? And all that crap."

Connor looked him in the eye and answered. "My family lives near here. I'm not going to let anything happen to them."

The word family made Lawin wince. "Right, well, uh, how're your wounds?"

"Not too bad. Probably only about a hundred broken bones, give or take a Femur."

Lawin laughed. "Tell me about it." He grimaced as he remembered his own wounds, given generously by Urkonn.

Connor looked at the clock. The plan was to stay in the room for the remainder of the night and head out as soon as day break, they figured that they could probably make a run for it before their hunters get another lock on them.

"There's some pain killers in the medicine cabinet. Do something about that wound in your leg, man, it makes me wanna puke." Lawin's leg had a large gash where one of the demons had slashed him, the muscles were visible.

"Fine," Lawin limped to the bathroom. Lawin knew that he could escape if he wanted but for the moment he had to know what the Ancients wanted with this creature. "You take the first watch."

"Got it." Connor had more questions for Lawin but right now, he was too tired as he knew that the other guy was too tired.

Seventeenth Entry.

I am now caged like an animal.

I was such a fool to stop and rest like that. Now my son and I are captured… separated. I was brought here, in what appears to be a cavern, no cages, no guards, just an eternally narrow labyrinth with sparse lighting, a maze. I was dragged unconscious into one part of the cavern, a lighted room that was a sanctuary to the darkness beyond and chained to a wall. Now I know why they call Quartoth the darkest of the dark worlds. There are entire cities underground, bigger than the ones on the surface, everyone of which was as dark and corrupt as the other, all of them ruled by the enigmatic demons that call themselves the Kluthu. Here, the surface was a kind of wilderness and act only as a door to the real horrors beneath, explaining why our lives in the darkest of worlds were not dark at all: All the horrors, all the powers could be found beneath the soil. Beneath the flesh, as the warlocks would say.

I'm trying to rest now, conserving my energy. There will be plenty of time for escaping later. Besides, I think several ribs were broken in the struggle to catch us… but they are healing now. My only pain now is that I don't know what the wretches are doing to my son.

As always fortune is with me, there is moss in these caverns and there's some water coming from the stalactites. I was feasting. Hah! I don't know how long I have been here but I am praying to God that Steven is safe.

What felt like centuries passed by when I was visited by one of the Kluthu. The demon was most foul. It had the face of death and it was clothed in a red overcoat with a dark material under it that looked like leather armor. Experience fighting these creatures, however, has taught me that the material is as hard as steel and flexible as silk. The creature walked/floated towards me, a curving serpentine sword in its hands. I was so sure it was going to kill me.

I was wrong. To my surprise, we talked. And to greater surprise, in English!

"So. Come to kill me at last." I said first in their language.

"Not at all. We want Steven's cooperation." The English was without accent. "To that end." He gestured at me.

I did not betray my surprise at the English words. "Cooperation?"

"Deluded old fool! You have no idea the enormous gift you have given us in the form of the abomination!"

"My son is not an abomination!"

Laughing. "And I suppose his real parents were supposed to give birth to such a one?"

"How did you know that? Steven would never tell you. Did you torture him for that information?"

The creature laughed some more. "You have no inkling of the enormity of what you have done! But then again neither does Connor."

"His name is…" He choked me.

"We have been watching you for a long time Daniel Holtz. We care not what you were in your world. In here, you are nothing.

We knew that you would one day arrive here in our territories. We knew of what it is that accompanies you. Ahhh…. He shall beckon forth a new age. An age that shall bring us revenge and power all in one."

Suffice to say our discussion tarried off to what their plans were for my son. It seems that they have certain designs to turn him into one of them, a vile warlock. And they intended me to help them by using me as leverage. I refused so I was tortured and in front of my own son. It seems that torture was a form of art in these parts.

The experience was most painful, I assure you, I screamed and cried a lot… but all the pains of this flesh is nothing compared to the screams of my family still ringing in my ears.

They made Steven watch. And to my eternal pride, the boy's face was cold as ice. He did not flinch or cry. He would never cooperate with the demons unless I ordered otherwise. He was that strong!

First watch for Connor consisted of sitting on the couch and staring blankly at the space in front of him, thinking while tensing for any indication of a sudden attack. A lot has happened, everything was supposed to be cut and dried. Find Angel then that's that. He'll take care of the problem and you shut your mouth and stay low.

But he knew as others knew that it would never end like that. Even if he could find out what had happened to Angel. There's still the question of what might happen to him and everyone's memories. There's still the question of what he is and what he might become. There's also the question of the coming demonic army. And what about the mystical disasters that were threatening to consume his home?

Connor didn't know what to do. On one hand, he knew that he could do something about all these problems. But on the other hand, the craven coward in him didn't want to return to that past primal warrior/warlock.

"Hey Sweetie." It was the First.

Connor murmured something and got off the couch. Darla was sitting across him.

"What happened to the Angel form?"

"I kinda like this form better, less broody."

"Go away."

"Oh, Connor do you have to be like this every time we meet?"

"Demon higher being or imaginary voice in my head? Why can't you try killing me like everyone else?"

"Ohhh! Because you and I are friends. Can't run around maiming my best boys now can I? Besides I'm short of help these days. Half of them were swallowed in the Hellmouth… and then that idiot, Caleb got himself killed."

"Sorry for interrupting you but I would like to get back to the point of get the hell out of here!" Connor then flopped back down on the couch and muffled his ears.

"You know, Harry Potter over there is more than he's letting on and you know it! Don't turn that pretty little head of yours. A sorcerer, being chased by demons. Hmm. He claims to be serving a council of mages. Well, that much is true! But did he tell you what it is exactly those mages do?"

Connor didn't want to answer but he guessed that maybe indulging this thing was the best way of getting rid of it. "No. And, more importantly, I don't care! Get the hell out of my head!" He turned back to the couch.

"That's no way to talk to your mother! Especially not when she tells you what happened to your nephew."

Connor was incredulous. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hmmm… Spike. He's your nephew if you think about it."

Connor stood up again. "I know Angel is Spike's grandsire. What about Spike?" The question was a demand.

"Oh, Spike got a soul like Angel and suddenly the world turns topsy turvy."

"Old news. Angel told me about the unique not unique thing. What's that got to do with him?" Connor motioned to the door, into the bedroom where Lawin was sleeping.

"Because, Lawin was the one who gave Spike his soul. Vampire with souls are nothing special. They can be created with a little mumbo jumbo magic. But two vampire Champions caused some very serious problems. Angel was the one who was supposed to destroy the Hellmouth." And defeat the First, but the image didn't tell him that. "He was the one who was supposed to battle as a Champion of the powers. But that destiny was hacked into two because of the interference of certain interests. All the prophecies have failed and he is one of the reasons for it." Darla gestured to the bedroom again. "Even if he doesn't know it yet." Darla/First smiled demurely and motioned to the room. "Why don't you ask him what happened to Spike? You'll find the answer very surprising."

Connor pinned Lawin against the wall, hurting his wounds. He was deeply asleep just a second ago.

"Not again." Lawin muttered.

"What do you know about Spike?"

"Who wants to know white man?" Lawin said, reverting back to macho crap.

"I don't have time for this kind of shit!"

Lawin coughed then spat blood into Connor's face. Connor smashed his nose, and then dropped him to the ground.

Don't toy with him!

"Shut up!" Lawin snapped.

Connor didn't understand. "Not going to, until I get answers."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Yeah, everybody likes talking to himself."

"Why not? You do."

Connor's eyes flared.

"Before I answer your question. How'd you know about Spike?"

"Birdy told me."

Lawin glared at him.

"A higher being that calls itself the First. Says that its one of the powers that be. Your turn!"

"The First! Hesus! Diyos! And you believed it? Do you know what that thing is? Do you have any idea what that thing is capable of!" Lawin started to stand but Connor pushed him back down.

"Don't worry about the images in my head. I can handle them, always have all my life. What did you do to Spike?"

"The First! Oh my God. That mentalist, Malachi. We should have listened."

"Yeah, we'll get there. But before that Spike first."

Lawin's mind was whirling with problems. The war just got bigger. The Horde was invading. Traitors among the Ancients. And now, the First.

Tell him! You must if you intend to stay healthy.

Lawin considered lying but, again, opted for the truth. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything since when you got involved with Spike and Angel. And what your people have to do with them."

"Okay, calm down. The First is definitely not one of the powers."

"You're not answering my question!" Connor was pinning Lawin back against the wall.

"Okay! Okay! Calm down! Dammit! You really wanna know?"

He can smell you lying! Don't attempt it!

"Yes, the people I've worked for gave Spike his soul. Yes, I'm involved with Spike turning human. But that's all there is to it. So leave it at that."

"Oh no. I'm not leaving it at that. Why, How and, more importantly, what the hell are you up to!"

Lawin threw off Connor's hands that were grabbing his shirt. "I wish I could answer you, Reilly. But the truth is I'm not even sure what I'm up to. You want to talk, I'll talk. None of it matters anymore, anyway. But I insist that we sit first and get the poles off of our asses."

The two sat down. Lawin on the edge of the bed and Connor on the nearby couch.

Lawin took out his alcohol flask and took a long drink. "They call themselves the Ancients. They're human… at least they look human. Most of them are sorcerers, others are… I don't know. From what I could tell, they're very powerful… and immortal. There aren't a lot of them and they hide in different locations around the world while getting schmucks like me to do their dirty work for them. They don't meet a lot of people, not even their own. They fight amongst themselves a lot and run around being paranoid all the time." Lawin sighed deeply. "But they weren't always like this, eons ago the Ancients were the best that humanity had to offer against the demons that originally inhabited this world, even before the Slayers came in.

"When they first emerged, the demons were already weakened and humanity stood a fighting chance. The Ancients were always at the front line of the attack. They created most of the armies and enchantments that even until now protect this world. Like the Slayers."

Connor was surprised by that last sentence. As he listened, Connor soon found out a treasure trove of knowledge from this chance encounter with this lost soul much like himself. The Ancients fought off the last of the demons. They created enchantments throughout the world to keep the demons out. They sealed off portals to hell dimensions, like Quar'toth. They created warriors, warriors like the Slayer, to serve their cause, humanity's cause. Connor also learned that the Ancients were not in the same league with the powers that be and that they made their own interpretation to what was best for humanity and this world.

The Ancients did not really like the idea of succession and so they elected amongst themselves to take on the burden of immortality to keep watch and act as custodians over the world they had saved, created and protected. The rest died.

As eons passed, the Ancients who chose immortality began to lose their humanity, turning into craven, sniveling sycophants. After a few more millennia, memory of them was forgotten and they faded into legend. Soon, human secret societies formed from the work the Ancients left behind, not knowing that it was the Ancient's will that these newer more flexible mystic groups take over the works they could no longer do. One of them was the Watcher's council.

So the Ancients became dormant, watching and waiting, interfering only when absolutely necessary, like in the case of the First and the Hellmouth, not knowing that their entire kind was slowly turning sterile. The only actions that they had been able to mount were through their own agents. Subtle manipulation and covert acts of treachery against any power bloc that might threaten their interests, whether they be good or evil.

"I was one of their agents. Well, until they decided that I needed a permanent sedation."

"You say that the Ancients fought off the demons. But what about that thing that guy, Malachi,said?" Connor asked.

"That the Ancients were just being expedient when they fought the demons? That they were just waiting for the right time to strike when their enemies were weakened? That they were trying to grab power from the demons and then take it for themselves? Before, no. But a lot of beliefs change when the people you serve try to kill you."

"People you work for taught you magic?" Connor's asked and his face seemed to grow in disgust at the mention of the M word.

"Nah. I've always been a sorcerer. Sort of runs in the family."

"And now that you're all grown up you've decided to make it out on your own."

"Something like that. Frankly, I don't like getting the third degree from anyone about my family. It's a long story and it pisses me off to talk about it."

"Fine, I got a story you might like to tell. How and why were you following me? And who gave you all the information about my…" Connor tapped his temple.

"You're an unknown. And to tell you the truth, unknowns make those guys want to wet their pants. Dammit, man, do you think the people I work for are the only ones who are watching you with anxiety? There are things out there. Big and scary and powerful things that watch you all the time; some want you dead, others want you pacified and others, god knows, want to use you."

"They can try." Connor's eyes glowed with savage glee. "You seem to know a lot, care to tell me how much you know about me?"

"Your life here. Fake memories. Birth. Parents. But nothing about that Disneyland where you spent the first seventeen years of your life. My employers don't like the idea of me knowing things I don't need to know."

Connor thought about that and knew he was powerless to do anything about it, short of killing Lawin. A lot of people were slowly getting into his real life. The life that was the memory. It was unraveling. Connor didn't want to think about it. He didn't want anyone knowing the truth. He wanted to change the subject.

"Spike. You never answered me what happened to Spike."

Lawin looked down thoughtfully. He wasn't sure if he should tell. It could certainly compromise his dealings with the Ancients.

The Ancients want you dead. It's only fitting to return the favor. Besides, this one may have information we might use. Use to find what has transpired with the Anash. We may also be able to use him.

"Spike was… the Ancients attempt at high jacking a prophecy with regards to the apocalypse, I already told you that. Make no mistake, a lot of groups like Wolfram and Hart wanted Angel. You know, use him as their own weapon and all. And I'm not just talking about people like Jasmine. She was one of them, yeah, but a lot wanted to use him for their own ends like you. No matter how much they tried and cheated, Angel was ultimately a Champion of the powers. Wolfram and Hart learned this the hard way. So did your daughter and anyone else who made the mistake. The powers planned him, engineered the events that gave him his soul and provided for the path he would, if he so chose, follow."

"What do you mean choose?"

"You have to understand how prophecies work; they're not programs that force you into a path. Their more like… contracts. Do you think Angel and Spike are the first ensouled vampires in history? No! But there are prophecies about a destined Champion. People who become Champions not by virtue of the events surrounding them but by the choices they make, hard choices. Your father became that prophesied Champion. Why? Because Angel kinda went into the contract of being the Champion, when he decided to hang onto his soul, when he decided to save girls in alleys and do the whole LA fight evil crap. He chose. Regardless of problems and regardless of the price. Angel, like you and me now, could have just walked away. But he didn't and because he didn't, he ended up following a path that led to the destiny of the vampire Champion. He, in a way, made an unwritten agreement with the powers to serve their cause, becoming their Champion.

"Higher demons like your new best bud, the First, and my former employers as well as other thingies up there didn't like the idea. The powers always served the interests of purposeful good. Their morality and ethics didn't fit into the ancient's thinking of power or survival. Some of the higher powers tried to wrest control of your dad from the powers, like Wolfram and Hart. Others wanted him dusted. But others understood that both paths were futile: The powers that be had a great incorruptible weapon.

"The Ancients were one of those who understood this and didn't seek to take control of your father or destroy him. And so instead of trying to get a jump on the person in question they jumped the prophecy."

"Spike." Connor suddenly understood. The pieces fitted together.

"Instead of controlling the vampire Champion for their own ends like Wolfram and Hart, the Ancients created Spike. And hoped that somehow Angel would just die, thus taking away a chess piece and replacing it with their own. With the prophecy still fully intact."

"You'd better not be calling my dad or me a chess piece."

Lawin ignored him, caught in the story telling. "They needed a Champion against the First. And they didn't get the present vampire with the soul so they created one. They ordered me to give him that soul, make him their Champion. The First was one of this Champion's enemies."

Connor looked surprised.

"That's right, the creature that was talking to you was fated to be defeated by the vampire Champion in a battle. However, certain events have complicated that aspect of your dad's destiny. And frankly, I think the powers were scared shitless at the idea of exposing one of their own in a mess that the Ancients created. It was a Slayer problem not theirs. The Slayers were created by the Ancients not the powers.

So the Ancients, noble and great as those bastiches are, decided to screw the powers and highjack the prophecy. I don't know how or why that is, exactly, but I've been told that Angel's destiny became periled because Spike existed. Spike couldn't have been a better candidate. Angel was his grandsire after all. The Ancients planned to use Spike in beating the first and then leave him to rot… and if it causes problems in the universe – screw that. They didn't understand that the vampire Champion was more important than just keeping the Hellmouth closed. So they got an idiot like me to dress up as some sort of demon and then give Spike his soul. It was kinda cool when I did that really. I made with the big body and glowing green eyes, really Mortal Kombat cool."

Connor glanced at Lawin with an annoyed look.

"Okay, umm, well, Spike wasn't completely gone. He was resurrected thanks to your dad's old friend, Mr. Macdonald."

"Lindsey."

"Yeah, well, The Ancients got their asses in a deep pile of you know what and so they turned to me clean up the mess again. From what I can tell, Spike being resurrected was not planned for. It caused a lot of people and a lot of other interests some very serious anxiety. And so, I was faced with a problem. How do you get a brave and powerful knight to stop being himself? Simple. Give him his holy grail."

"You made him human. Shanshu. How?"

"Does it matter?"

Connor thought for a moment. "No. But why Spike only? What about my dad? Why didn't you turn him human too?"

"Your dad was a Champion of the powers that be. Spike was the Ancient's toy. Defective and dangerous and created for a single purpose, but theirs nonetheless. The Ancients know better than to play with fire they didn't create. Besides, he signed a binding deal that he would forget about turning human ever. Not to mention your father was turned human once."

Connor looked up with surprise. Who was this guy?

"Yeah, it was with the blood of this demon assassin, causes whoever makes contact to get a heartbeat. Didn't last long though. Your daddy later found out he'd rather be a superhero. Loved the glory, probably. Spent twenty four hours weighing the ups and downs of being a normal nobody… and well, like I said, The powers were testing him if he was really the one. He passed: Grade A Champion. But no humanity. Toughski Shitski. Personally, I think he's a dumbass.

Connor cut Lawin off and glared at him hard. "You don't know anything about Angel. You don't know anything about him because like me, you're a selfish jackass who thinks he can strut his way through life. Angel did the things he did because that was the kinda guy he was. If he made different choices he wouldn't be who he is. He'd be some guy walking in Malibu, who was only recently a demon. Living a lie and a false pretense. But no, he is who he is because he chose it; because he believed in what he was doing, in the things he knows to be true. He started with no rewards or interests or ulterior motives or happy endings. He is, because that is his choice. No crap about purpose or meaningful ending. None! So before you start crapping about my dad. Think about what might happen to your fucking mouth!"

Lawin only raised a contemptuous brow. He wondered if Connor's little rant was for himself or for Connor's. He dismissed it for later consideration, and continued his story about Spike as if nothing happened, but with more reserve. He was wary about the tenuous creature before him. Surely he could escape, even fight. But he was still hurt and he could do little at the moment. He told Connor about the Ancients, about what they do, their history. He told him how and when he turned Spike human and that he was living somewhere in Texas at the moment.

Connor asked about Angel and the others, Illyria and Gunn, what happened to them. But Lawin only professed that he had rescued only Spike when the team split up in the alley to divide the attention of the rampaging army. Connor, through careful interrogation found out that Lawin wasn't lying. He knew only about Spike and Spike alone. And from what Lawin could tell Spike didn't know what happened to the others as well.

When Connor was satisfied with his answers he pressed further about Lawin himself since the other guy seemed to know enough about Connor's real and fabricated life.

As a measure of good faith, Lawin obliged to tell him his family history, the Scion and the treachery of Amazarak, an Ancient. He also told him about his own powers. That it was designed like the Slayer line though unstable. And like the Slayer line it could be passed down from generation to generation with the exception of being exclusively male and that those males usually have their skulls blown if the Scion was not controlled; and how a twin is always born with the one who shall inherit the Scion. The twin shall serve as a living mystical stabilizer. If the Scion dies, the twin is released from being the stabilizer and the power is passed to the next in line of the family. If however, the twin dies, the Scion bearer must lessen the use of the Scion or risk his death from his own powers. If no twins exist when the Scion dies, then it is passed at random to those who have Amazarak' blood, but the inheritor also suffers the risk of being destroyed by the Scion.

Which was why Lawin's family always had twins in reserve, so that the succession would be stable and the Scion would be safe for its bearer. Lawin was the latest bearer. His twin was back at home, in the old country. He smiled at the thought, men used to think that twins were the products of magic. And sometimes, he mused, it was true.

Lawin later told Connor that he was a mage assassin, specializing in hunting down renegade sorcerers just as they, Lawin and his family, were hunted by the Ancients. The family that bore the Scion bloodline was extremely clannish. He was an adept at using his powers and from the looks of him, could also fight. He also told him about how he had betrayed his family by refusing to kill a girl trying to get a scoop into something she wasn't supposed to know. She was innocent, he reasoned. And because he refused, he was cast out, hated, even in danger of being killed. And so he ran all the way there, away from his own family to find a cure to a curse that others blindly saw as power.

"Wow," Connor said.

"Yeah, but you grew up in hell. I got nothing against that."

"Oh, right but I never started killing people when I was thirteen."

"They were dark magicians!" Lawin hissed, referring to his family's sacred occupation. "And don't forget, you killed your share of humans."

Connor glared malevolently. "I'd watch it if I were you."

Lawin mellowed. "I was thirteen. They told me to be a killer. I didn't know what to do. I didn't have any choice. What about you? How were you any different? How old were you?"

"Four."

"Four. Killer at four."

"They were demons."

"And mine were warlocks." Lawin suddenly remembered Connor was a warlock and a demon. "No offense."

"None taken."

"But frankly speaking, we were born into a world that is dark and powerful and dangerous and could get a lot of things ripped apart. I accepted that a long time ago which is why I can make the necessary choices. That's why I saved my girl and you kille…" Connor rammed Lawin against the wall again.

"I warned you!" Connor hissed.

"What are you afraid of Reilly? Are you scared of looking at yourself at the mirror? Are you scared that you won't see Connor Reilly? Or are you scared of accepting the truth that you are and always will be forced to choose." Connor let go and walked away as if in a trance. The words hit the mark.

Lawin rubbed his neck and pressed on. "The girl in the warehouse. Jasmine. Cordelia Chase. You had a choice with all of them."

"And I failed every last one!"

"I used to tell myself that too. I lost someone just recently. Another one on my tab! I used to tell myself that I'll always be a failure and I should just walk away before I get anyone else I love killed. Yeah, you can. But if you do, you're also making a choice! And that choice will not make things any better! They might even get more of your love ones killed. Don't kid yourself. You know and I know that dwelling in denial is as dangerous as fighting the darkness. The demons and the dangers will always be there, threatening to kill everyone around you whether you bury your head in the sand or not. Take Holtz, for example! You knew he was lying to you but you still chose to believe him! That got you into a lot of trouble!"

"You know nothing about Holtz." But Lawin did, thanks to the Ancients and his relentless research.

"White man, guys like us wish we were never born! But to tell you the truth, we can't really choose the circumstances we are in; we can only choose to be the kind people we want to be responding to those circumstances... Which is probably the only real choice we have."

Connor ignored Lawin and went back to the couch. To Connor, everything that Lawin said was a sack of shit. He didn't understand this world as well as he should. He didn't understand that you can make things right if you pushed hard enough. He may be sorcerer but he hadn't lived through hell. Let the bastard talk all he wanted

They refused to speak for a while, the silence tensed as each person tried to garner something to throw. And then… Connor breached the wall.

"Listen, you bastard, I've done all I can. Stay away from me and stay away from my family. I got nothing to prove to you or the whole fucking universe! I have no grand design. I'm not special. I'm just Connor Reilly, college student at Stanford. So you can tell the Ancients or whatever they are to get away from me!"

Lawin looked Connor over for a moment then walked out of his room and hobbled to the coffee table with a pen and paper. He wrote on the paper, folded it and gestured for Connor to take it.

"What's that?" Connor asked.

"Spike's address. It ain't much but maybe he can tell you what happened to Angel."

Connor seemed tempted to take it. Maybe Lawin was lying. Maybe Spike knew something of what happened to his father. Maybe he could find a new lead. But Connor promised he would just walk away. But finding his father wasn't walking away, was it? No, but it meant going back into that world of darkness and demons. That's the place you promised yourself to walk away from. What to do?

"One time deal," Lawin said. "Captain Peroxide is jumping ship in a few days. Got a message from him an hour after my apartment got turned into ash and dust. You say you really want to walk away. You really choose to look the other direction. Prove it! Show me some conviction."

If Connor took the paper it would mean going back in, going back to the darkness but if he rejected it then that would mean rejecting to himself that he wanted to find Angel again.

Connor walked away from Lawin. And opened the door to motel room to leave. "The little bastards that have been chasing us are gone. Don't try to find me or observe me again. If you do you'll wish you had not. Check out's at eight." Connor threw Lawin the key to the room.