TOUCHING GOD
The king had returned.
He walked among them now, as one of them, mortal in all ways. His being, his spirit, was now wrapped in human flesh, bound by sinew and muscle, clad in new skin, fresh as the spring day. He sat with the Warriors, HIS warriors, wedged between two of them, protected by them. They would gladly given of their flesh and life so that he might remain in this world of the living, now that the King had been returned to it.
They drove like mad, running from that place, from that "children's home." Brett sped away, running as fast as he could, pouring on speed and energy with no care for the laws of the road. The fire elemental just kept on speeding away, moving as fast as he could from the scene of this, in what the DCFS would term, abduction.
"What the hell was that?" Oz swore.
Kristo just grabbed a hold of his own brother's head and shoved it down, out of sight. "Just keep down."
"But what was that?" his brother demanded again.
Amon glanced to Brett as he peeled out of the parking lot, skidding onto the main road with an angry squeal of tires. "What does he know?"
"What am I supposed to know?" Oz was shouting now, popping his head up.
Kristo forced his brother's head back down, bitter and raging annoyed at Oz's general lack of disregard for his own safety. "You're supposed to know to stay down and do what I tell you to do."
"He doesn't know anything, does he?" Amon breathed softly.
Brett shook his head. "No. He doesn't."
"What are you talking about?" Oz had grown almost deathly silent. "What don't I know? What am I supposed to know?"
"Keep driving," Kristo barked the order to his comrade.
"Brother?"
Kristo shook his head. "Not yet."
xxxx
The blood of so many had been spilt there.
And all she wanted was for someone to save her. Or, at least, that's what Nycole thought she wanted. The empath had no idea. Not anymore. And, in a way, she wondered what the Thirteen wanted, now that she had tapped them and pointed each of those Warriors onto their destined path. The doubts in her head, Nycole knew they weren't hers, but she couldn't help but feel the need to be saved and rescued from everything in the world, from the vile and hateful things on the planet.
But it was Dane.
Nycole shuddered at the thoughts. He wanted to be saved from them, in essence. The bassist hadn't wanted it. As the girl carefully explained to both of them their destiny, Taylor had just been understanding, while Dane sat, questioning fate over free will.
She turned, facing the mountain and those forms carved into it.
"Y'think she'll know to find us here?" Geoff inquired.
Nycole had to laugh. "Kathain always knew I was a bit melodramatic." The girl paused, swallowing hard. "Leanna'll find us."
"What is it?" Dane pressed.
The empath shook her head, but the tears had already welled up and spilt down her checks in big, rolling droplets, glittering under the streetlights like the stars in the sky. "It's nothing." However, as if to the prove the point, Dane's hand reached out and brushed away a tear. "It's just... we've already lost one of our own."
He stopped. "So this is really real?"
"It always was."
Dane missed Nycole the way he originally met her. He liked the bitchy, annoyed, annoying drunk girl who had staggered and swaggered about him at the Masquerade. He liked that version better. Anything was better than getting to know the real thing, this sad, haunted, tortured creature that held the key to his destiny and sealed his fate to an uncertain end. Anything was better than learning the truth.
He turned to the mountain behind, to the gleaming, polished faces carved into the ancient granite, almost afraid for a moment. However, Nycole didn't feel phased.
"They'll find us."
xxxx
The house was dark.
Too dark.
They had left the others there. Marcus.That calculating seeming leader of them all, always with some seeming scheme behind everything. Bear. With his ever constant smile, always seeing some light in even the darkest of situations. Raven. He who always seemed able to make some small joke or mild pun, always trying to lighten and lift the others no matter how far they slipped. Geoff. The sworn protector of all those who were the Thirteen, as well as their poor Oracles. Sakaki. The man who had just fallen into all this quite by accident.
And, then, Nycole. Poor, sweet Nycole. They had left the empath, still sobering up from the night at the Masquerade. They had left her there, in the trust of the other Thirteen. She, just as Sakaki, seemed to have fallen into the entire mess quite by accident and circumstance, as opposed to choice.
"And so the book says, 'we may be through with the past,'" Brett breathed, hunching over the steering wheel and peering out at the dark Roswell house. "But the past ain't fucking through with us."
Amon barely raised an eyebrow. "This does look startlingly familiar."
Kristo shifted his gaze uncertainly across the backseat of the car, glancing across the property, hunting for any little details to show the tiniest clue to a fight, a battle, or an invasion of any kind into their safe haven. There were none, not a damn sign of Solomon or the Other Thirteen. At least, nothing that even the trained Warrior's eyes could distinguish, even with all of his years of practice and keen, sharpened skills. There was nothing.
"Too familiar." The shadow walker paused, feeling the Night and all her creatures looming around them. "But it's not a trap."
"Do we go in?" Brett inquired curiously.
Kristo gave a slow nod. "We have no other choice." He toyed with the night, with the shadows and everything about. "We go in."
"Alright." Oz spoke excitedly, clapping his hands together.
His brother gave a dark glare, stern and sharp, authoritative. "No. You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay here, safe in the car. Brett, you keep an eye on him. Anything happens-"
"I know what to do," the fire elemental replied.
Kristo glanced to Amon. "C'mon."
They slunk from the car and down the sloping hill to the front door of that house that had always been their sanctuary. Their foot steps tread softly upon the grass damp with night dew. Amon almost tripped over a deep rut in the middle of the yard. Kristo, however, remembering the time the entire group banding together to dig the trench there, searching for where the water main had frozen and burst. The shadow walker lilted easily up to the front door.
Amon, instinctively tucked beside the door to one side, while Kristo pressed an ear to the wooden thing. He held up a fist, the signal to hold. Then, the shadow walker put a pointed finger to his ear; he could hear something. Amon nodded. Kristo held up two fingers; two people were in the house. Again, Amon merely nodded.
The shadows pooled together around the two.
Kristo held up three fingers.
Amon breathed in.
Two fingers.
He turned swiftly on the ball of his feet, his dark eyes focused on Kristo's fingers.
One finger.
Amon exhaled, and, just as Kristo gave a quick point at the front door, the former hunter elephant kicked the wooden thing hard, slamming it in, breaking the lock clean in with a spray of splinters. Kristo wheeled into the house, his fists balled, up and ready for a fight.
There never came any.
"Took you long enough."
Amon looked up the stairs, to where the Thirteen had met and gathered. Up there, at the very top, stood two visions of beauty and hope. Robin, in all her glory, a small flare of fire atop her hand, illuminating her smiling face. And, beside her, in all black, was Leanna, that ghost of Kathain, giving a slight nod of greeting to the men before them.
The shadow walker bound up the steps. "You're here."
Robin nodded slowly. "We had to stop you from making a terrible mistake." She glanced around. "We have to stop you from going to get the King."
"It's too late," Amon responded solemnly.
The young Craft user gasped and turned away, shaking her head gravely. "You didn't." She rubbed her head, unsure of what to say or do. "You couldn't have." She gave a slight, awkward laugh. "Of course you would. You would have to. You always have to save people, even from themselves."
Kristo held out a hand to Leanna and shook it formally. "Welcome back."
The precognitive closed her eyes. "We need to leave."
Robin nodded. "Now."
"Where do we go?" Amon inquired of the two.
Leanna lifted her gaze. "I know."
xxxx
Stone Mountain.
In ancient times, Indians lived in the shadow of the mountain, that giant granite rock in the middle of the woods. They took chunks of granite from the base of the massive boulder for their tools and building supplies. They used the site as a guide post and as a sanctuary for their people. At least they did until the first colonial settlers came to the area, driving off the native people.
Then, the white plantations rose about the great rock mountain. Cotton, tobacco, and other crops sprung up in great fields. There was even a smart, stately manor at the base of the mountain, right beside a beautiful lake. At times, the owners of the manor would take hikes to the top of the mountain and admire the view, seeing for miles and miles on a clear day.
Then, war broke out. The manors burnt. The plantations fell. And, yet, Stone Mountain stood proud and tall, outlasting all, everlasting.
Years later, the City of Atlanta would come to recognize the suffering of all those who had died in the war. A great sculpture was planned, taking years to complete only a small portion of the anticipated art piece. Three generals now rode on horseback across the face of the wall in a massive sculpture in pure granite.
Nycole glanced down at the glittering lake below from the lookout point atop the mountain, gazing past the waters to the tall, gleaming spires of Atlanta, standing tall and proud in the morning light.
"Thinking about jumping?"
The empath would have jumped out of her skin if she were any other person, but Nycole was no ordinary woman. Instead, she just rubbed her arms, slightly peppered with goose bumps from the light breeze.
"Kristo, you have better manners than to sneak up like that," she whispered.
He crouched down, running his long fingers over the short bits of grass that had managed to crop up here and there along the mountain face. "You couldn't have picked a harder place to meet? Mile and a half hike uphill AFTER breaking into the park?" Kristo glanced to where Nycole stared, to Atlanta. "Wanted one last look?"
"How did you find us?" She already knew the answer.
"Leanna."
The woman nodded. "Did you have any troubles?"
"There was one small snag," the shadow walker replied honestly. The empath raised an eyebrow, but Kristo merely instructed rather matter-of-factly, "Don't tell anyone."
Footsteps approached. Nycole whirled around. There, stood the others, walking up ever so ominously. Amon and Brett looked tired, a bit disheartened, but alright. No great surprise there. Robin and Leanna, there was no surprise there, either. The empath had been expecting their return, anticipating it, for several hours. Nycole had even been looking forward to Robin coming back, to having another female to talk to, one that hadn't lost her memories and emotions.
But, what she hadn't been expecting was him. The King. He stood, rather unsurely dawdling behind the rest. He was, after all, but a boy compared to the others. However, something dark hung over him.
'Shhhh, Nycole. You cannot say anything.'
It was Kristo, alive and active of the mind, crooning to her, specifically targeting his thoughts so her telepathy could not ignore them.
'But he is not the King.' She placed the thought in his mind, like setting a gem.
'I know.'
xxxx
Masquerade! Intrigue! Danger! Who knows? Um... I think I'm supposed to.