Hihi folks. I'm back for about point three seconds before I return to the damned essays. I hope you like this chapter, short as it may be. The plot is moving along, though slowly. I'm not entirely sure where I will actually be ending this...hehe...so what else is new. ::sighs::

Much thanks to: Mako-chan Wolf (I don't rightly know what's in store. Ask her ::points to muse::), DKM (::smiles maniacally::), Eli (what's wrong with invisible friends?! ::Looks over to Bob::), Jenileigh (hehehehehe...indeed), Redmayne (Ooo...apartment hunting. Much luck to you), Riyallyn (may be one of the last times Kenni is acting like a good child...), moondreamer ( ;P sorry 'bout that. Don't let these stories get in the way of your work...), Spin (::evil thoughts for next chapter), Shinara (thanks for the support!) Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...!!!!!!

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Chapter XII

******************Grand old flash of light*********************

The two Gabriels looked around their surroundings in confusion. It was the limbo of the Witchblade, but neither man knew what that was.

"I was here right before I ended up in your dimension...time...whatever we decided was going on."

There was another bright flash of light within darkness, and so appeared Loki.

"Ah, good day, Gabriel...s, Keepers," Loki said with a nod to both men. He snapped his fingers and a large leather chair appeared, and he sat down.

"Wow...so you snap your fingers and you can make things happen? Interesting," Gabriel marveled, totally forgetting the oddness of it all, for a few moments at least.

"I don't actually need to snap my fingers, but it's more pretentious when I do," Loki replied, snapping his fingers again and two more chairs appeared, along with Gabe's half-eaten sandwich. Gabe looked it over very carefully before taking another bite out of it.

"So, uh...Loki, I presume...why are we here?" Gabriel inquired.

"The situation I am currently dealing with has become a bit more complicated," Loki explained slowly, "And I may...well...quite frankly, I need your help, Keepers."

Gabe almost choked on his sandwich again.

"You? The *GOD*, and I do stress the word *GOD*.of mischief and mayhem, need *OUR* help?" Gabe asked, after coughing up the obtrusive piece of bread and who-knows-what.

"Sure, rub it in my face," Loki said with a sigh, putting his head in his hand.

"Sorry," Gabriel said, "It's just...well...why would you need our help?"

"Your friend Sara and your relation and local assassin, Ian are quite stubborn."

"Tell us something we don't know," Gabe said after he took the final bite of the sandwich.

"I need you to help me complete my plan," Loki said.

"What exactly would that entail?" Gabriel inquired.

"The main gist of it all is, I'm trying to make those two realize their destines before they are pulled apart, and prevent the future that Gabe came from." Loki said, "If you accept, I can tell you the rest of the details."

Gabriel and Gabe exchanged glances. If the future Gabe came from was the one that would happen without this intervention...

"We accept," the Gabriels said in unison.

"Glad to hear that. Now lets get to work, gentlemen,"

(Keepers= Keepers of Knowledge, connected with the Witchblade in my twisted little world)

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Sara sat back in her seat, watching Ian triumphantly eating his Raisinettes. They had actually called it a draw, but Sara had already eaten all her Raisinettes, and was eyeing Ian's once again.

"Fair is fair, Lady Sara. Just because I did not inhale my Raisinettes in a single breath..."

Sara glared at him, eyeing the Raisinettes once again.

"Yeah, but *I* have gummi bears," Sara said proudly, picking up bag from the seat next to her."

"Gummi bears?" Ian inquired, not as focused on his Raisinettes any more. He reached over to grab the gummi bears, but was distracted by the dimming of the theatre lights, and the previews that came up onto the screen.

````````````Coming soon to a Theatre near you... "What will happen when two identical men, one from the present, and one from the future; have the powers of a god bestowed on them? Stay tuned to find out!" ```````````````````````````

"I wonder what that's about," Sara muttered. It was the last thing she said before she was once again pulled from her own body.

```````````````Morrigan weaved her way through the crowd, oblivious to the people around her. She was in a separate world through which she walked, distracted by the enchanting golden-brown eyes, around which her new world revolved.

She walked into an old store, held up by old wood. The roof was covered with a thick cloth, in an attempt to keep out the heavy rains that occasionally came through that area of Ireland.

"Good Mornin', Lady Morrigan," the keeper of the medicine shop greeted when she entered.

"Good Morning, Lazar," Morrigan smiled at the old man.

Lazar smiled back, and went back to grinding the dried herbs in his bowl.

"What may I do for you this day, Morrigan?"

"The wound on my father's back has gotten far worse, and I need more of that salve you gave me last time."

"Ah yes." Lazar said, rummaging through one of his old and decaying cabinets, "I believe I still have some of that in my possession."

"I wish that I could find a healer that knew what to make of his wound."

"Perhaps you have already found one," said Lazar.

"Can you heal him?"

"No, but you can, with her help."

"Who do you speak of?" Morrigan asked nervously.

Lazar turned around and grabbed Morrigan's right wrist.

"You know of who I speak, young Wielder."

"How do you know?" Morrigan hissed, pulling her hand from his grasp.

"There are many things that I know, but the question is, what is it that you need to know, young Morrigan?"

Morrigan pulled away from Lazar and walked around the shop, looking at the objects that were up on the shelves.

"Why me?" she asked, "Why me?"

Once again, Sara felt as if everything she was seeing through Morrigan's eyes was being fast forwarded; through her discovery of what the Blade was, and meeting a past Wielder who gave her vague details and hints.

"I don't want this," Morrigan said, "I do not want to have this responsibility. I want to live and die a normal life. This 'Llan An Cailleach' is why my father is severely wounded, my older sister is dead, and I am forever cursed!!!"

Morrigan tore the bracelet from her wrist and threw it at the dirt floor. The dirt engulfed it, and Morrigan turned to leave. But, as she looked to her wrist, and there the bracelet was again, gleaming at her maliciously.

"Lazar.I don't want to have to live with this object the rest of my life, which now looks like it shall be shorter than I expected."

"You are not along in the struggle, Morrigan McBride. You have allies. Some closer, and more powerful than you think."

Morrigan looked up from the ground and to Lazar, who gave her a reassuring smile. She nodded then left the shop, and walked back into the bustle of the crowd, things not seeming the same way as when she had left. Everything seemed different...clouded. These people...she was here to protect them. Her life was no longer her own. Morrigan glanced down to the Llan An Cailleach, which began to gleam. Sara remembered how she felt when she first learned of her new responsibility...she wanted to run into her father's waiting arms to be comforted...but he was not there. Then she wanted to run into the arms of someone who could understand...but there wasn't anyone there. But after that split second of weakness...her walls went up again.

Morrigan walked swiftly through the crowd, ignoring those who bumped into her. She tucked the salve she had gotten from the shop into her cloak and made a sprint towards her horse. The Witchblade began to glow, and in the glowing dusk it managed to show through the sleeve of Morrigan's shirt. Her horse whinnied, and Morrigan reached out a hand to calm her.

"It has been a long day, Ebony," Morrigan murmured with a sigh, "What do you say we go home?"

The horse snorted and bucked its head in a nod.

"My thoughts exactly,"

Morrigan jumped up onto Ebony and turned her towards the forest.

"There are some strange things happening around here, Ebony." Morrigan sighed as she brought the horse to a trot.

A cold breeze blew through the woods, and Morrigan shivered involuntarily. It was nearing summer, and the sudden change in temperature had Morrigan on edge.

Ebony whinnied and slowed down, not wanting to go on. Morrigan tapped the reins, pushing her to go forward.

"What is it, Ebony?"

The red glow of the Llan An Cailleach caught Morrigan's eye, and she immediately tensed. At the sound of a snapping twig, Morrigan looked to side of the path, into the dark forest. The sun was no longer visible over the horizon, and soon the night creatures would be appearing. But the night creatures were not what made her ill-at-ease. The creatures who didn't live in the forest were the ones that frightened her. Creatures like Lord Michael. The noise came again, closer than before.

"Whoever is there, be gone. I have no quarrel with you."

But the footsteps did not cease, and Ebony took off, spooked in the sudden movement Sara was thrown to the ground, and hit hard. The footsteps were along side her now, and Morrigan jumped up, immediately in a defense position, regardless of the pain. Few people dared to be out on these roads after dark, and with good reason, it seems. Five men appeared, three of them standing around her to surround her.

"You are to come with us, peasant farmer. Lord Michael has called for your presence," the man without a beard commanded.

"I shall not," Morrigan replied, making sure to keep her bearings on all them men.

"You do not have a choice." The beard-less man said once again.

"One always has a choice."

The men moved closer to Morrigan, and the Witchblade grew brighter. The sound of scraping metal could be hear, and the Blade appeared on her wrist, causing the men to back up a few steps.

"Now you have a choice...live, or..." Morrigan waved the Llan An Cailleach to emphasis this point, "Meet your maker sooner than you had previously anticipated."

The five men exchanged glances before moving in on her. One of the men behind her raised his sword, preparing to hit her over the head with the hilt of his sword. He was extremely surprised when the hilt hit metal instead the base of Morrigan's skull, then cracked.

"I shall say, you may have not made the correct choice if you value your lives to any extent."

She struck out again, and one of the men fell, clutching his side. The men's attack grew more fierce, and soon Morrigan was fighting off attacks from all sides. The beard-less man's sword came flying at Morrigan's head, but suddenly...````````````

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sara opened her eyes to find herself in the odd movie theatre. She glanced to Ian, who was still in a trance like state. He opened them after a few moments and smiled.

"He left it off there?" Sara demanded in an outrage.

Ian's smile only broadened in response.

"Ian..." she warned.

"I know what happens," Ian taunted, getting up from the seat. He had begun to lose circulation in his legs from sitting for so long. Which made him wonder whether he was actually *in* the limbo of the Witchblade, or if Loki was just taking the movie watching experience to the fullest.

"And?" Sara asked.

"I am not at liberty to tell you," Ian said with the mischievous smile Sara had come to enjoy so much.

"I betcha you can tell me...you just want to make me suffer."

"I would never want to make you suffer," Ian said, dead serious, "But I do not mind making you have to speculate about the issue for a long time."

Sara was having evil thoughts of tickling Ian into hysterical laughter, but movement behind her distracted her from those thoughts.

The seats of the theatre disappeared, and the theatre soon followed. Ian and Sara were left standing in the hallway, once again displaced. Sara glanced to the metallic clock on the wall, which read 9:15.

"That was only four minutes?" Sara said aloud, dumbstruck.

"Our lives are merely seconds in the scheme of life," Ian said quietly. The two were silent for a few moments, and exchanged a quick glance. Sara looked up and down the hall before looking back to Ian

"So...uh...where do you keep the punching bag around here?"

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Hiya. Well, I managed another chapter in my current time schedule, which is a feat within its self. Now, I would like reviews. Many reviews. Muahahahahahahahaaaa::hiccups::aaaaaaa

But even more, I would like all of you to write a short little letter to this address tnt@turner.com , and beg for them to get Witchblade up and running again. I'm sure it's a hopeless effort, but it would make me feel a lot better...please? ;P

Thanks much and Slan Agat.

-XRaven of the Irish Persuasion