Wise Council
Rowena stared at the scrying pool and stepped back, blinking.
Impossible.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Somewhere in the back of her head, she realized that she was forgetting something.
Oh yes.
The door.
„Enter," she said calmly, indicating absolutely zero concern that whomever was knocking had been doing so for well over an hour. The small electric pin-light indicating a visitor outside blinked busily over it.
The heavy oaken door, covered in Runecraft, swung open, and a very tall man in an elegantly trimmed and tailored business-suit walked in, wearing a tophat, which he removed swiftly, executing an immaculate and deep bow.
„High-Mistress of the Council, I am at your service."
Rowena arched an eyebrow. „You are the one that indeed requested this appointment, correct?"
The man straightened up and looked down at an ornate timepiece attached to his wait by a silver chain. He looked up and raised an eyebrow back at her.
„Quite some time ago, as a matter of fact, Mistress," he said, smirking a little.
Rowena smiled genially in return and sighed. She walked over to a desk and flipped on the light there. She also pressed a switch and the window aperture began to grate open on several moving metal plates, letting in the night air. The glow of the city lights far below her office at the top of the Tower of Mages granted a bit of illumination to the otherwise darkened chamber.
„You will have to excuse me, Samuel….Winchester, isn't it?", she asked. The man nodded his head deeply in acknowledgment. „Of course, it is extremely rude of me to keep the representative of the Men of Letters waiting for so long. There are…concerning matters occurring."
Sam Winchester's face twisted into a look of worry and interest. „Is it something that the Men of Letters can assist you with?"
Rowena hesitated. It actually was something that she would need help with, if what she had seen was accurate; she absolutely could not handle this herself. But it was a political question, really, for to show such an eager willingness to ask for assistance from another large Magical Guild, let alone such a….militant one as the Men of Letters….she shook her head.
„No," she lied smoothly, waving her hand. „The situation requires further investigation before I can assess what measures need to be taken."
„I…see," Sam answered slowly. She caught his eyes flick over to her scrying pool. She smiled at him and pressed a button on her desk, and a similar mechanism to the one on the window closed it off with a metallic snap.
Sam cleared his throat. „You are, of course, correct to insist, Mistress. To business, then." He moved over in front of her desk, and she indicated one of the seats in front of it with her hand. He sat down and reached into his pocket, producing a paper, signed and sealed with an intricate wax stamp.
„It has…happened again, Mistress, I'm afraid," Sam said simply, turning the paper on the desk towards her. „I am truly sorry to be the bearer of such unfortunate news."
She glanced down at the paper and read it briefly, then shut her eyes.
„Was anyone hurt?"
Sam raised in eyebrows in genuine surprise. Rowena opened her eyes and caught the gesture.
„Surprised that I would ask?"
Sam cleared his throat and shook his head. „No…no, of course not Mistress, it was just that…."
„That you heard that I was an ice-cold dragon-bitch," she answered smiling, cutting him off. „Well, Mr. Winchester, while some of those rumors might indeed be true, it does not mean that when there are matters concerning my….offspring," her mouth twisted distastefully at the word, „...that I am, naturally, concerned about…." She hesitated, visibly struggling to find the correct word.
„Collateral damage," Sam provided, nodding.
She smiled kindly in relief and gratitude. „Yes, one could call it that." In truth, it would be devastating to her authority if Crowley had managed to hurt anyone. She had put herself out on a limb by personally all but guaranteeing to the Mage Council elders that he would never have another...'episode'.
Then she had lost track of him, despite having put some of her best Mages assigned to the guard detail.
„But no, Mistress, fortunately, no one was hurt. There was some property damage…."
She sighed. „Which pub and how much damage?"
Sam smiled painfully. „Impala's, and, quite a lot, actually."
Rowena's eyes widened involuntarily, but she regained her composure quickly.
„A well known and successful establishment. That would be your brother….Dean, was it? ...that would be his pub, correct?"
Sam nodded.
„Hence, the personal visit," Rowena sighed yet again, finishing her train of thought. „Of course, the Council will cover your brother's loss." She frowned and reached into her desk, pulling out the crafted Goldmark, pressing it dutifully over the wax seal. The magic imbued in the coin would transfer the required funds automatically to the balance required. She replaced the marker in her drawer. „Where is he now?" She asked, not looking back up at Sam, instead fidgeting with the contents of her desk, fussily re-arranging them.
Sam rolled up the paid notice and tucked it safely back in his jacket. „In jail, actually."
„That bad?"
Sam nodded. „I'm afraid so."
„Which one?" She asked hesitantly. But she could already guess. If the damage was that extensive….
„The Angels have him."
She nodded slightly, her worries confirmed. „Thank, Mr. Winchester. Once again, I extend my apologies, and to your brother as well. I will see to this matter personally."
Sam smiled and stood up, bowing deeply again. „Thank you for your time Mistress." He seems to hesitate, and she caught him looking back over at the closed scrying pool. „And again….if there's anything…."
She waved her hand, already standing up and getting her jacket to leave the room. „No, no, as I've said, it is a Council concern. Nothing more."
She waited until he left, then sank back into her heavily padded leather chair. She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temple, letting out a groan.
As if what she had seen in the scrying pool wasn't bad enough….
„Fergus."
Crowley raised his eyes and saw, blearily, the absolute last person on the entire planet that he had wanted to see.
Ever, really, he added to himself sarcastically.
„Fergus, look at me."
Crowley lifted up his bedraggled face and managed a condescending smile.
„Mother. How…. lovely it is to see you again. I'd offer you a drink, but…."
Rowena simply stood there, stock-still, her eyes icy, hands clasped primly in front of her.
Crowley sighed. „That was a joke."
"A poor one."
Are you going to get me out of here, or what?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. „Or what, I should say. It all depends."
Crowley felt a small jolt of alarm. „'Depends' on what, exactly? You couldn't seriously be considering leaving me here with these…."
„And why not?" Rowena cut him off sharply.
„Because they're Angels, for one. Isn't that enough?"
She met his eyes, but did not speak.
„Mother, they don't exactly like… .my type…. surely I don't have to explain that to you…."
„You promised me, Fergus. I made promises as well, for that matter…."
„Oh, that…:" Crowley grunted, leaning back in his cell and clasping his hands. „So, the ‚depends' part is me explaining to you what happened?"
Rowena indicated her head slightly.
„As if you need to ask….."
„Humor me, Fergus."
Crowley winced. She knew that he hated that name.
„Did someone get hurt this time….?" He asked, worried. That would not only explain her colder-than-usual behavior, but also complicate his getting out of prison immensely. There were things even the head Mistress of the Council of Mages couldn't brush under the so-called rug.
Rowena crossed her arms and let out a deep breath, rolling her eyes. „No. Thank the powers."
Crowley let out a breath of his own he didn't realize he was holding. Hurting or causing harm to someone with Magic would have been pretty much the end of the proverbial line for him. He would have been Burned-Out, Muted and Cast-Out among the masses. And with a record. He would have died penniless, miserable, friendless and hungry.
„You seemed to have survived as well…" Rowena added. „Can't fault the powers for being ironic…."
At least that demise would have brought this bitch down with him, he thought, his glare full of poison.
They stared daggers at each other for a long, uncomfortable time before Rowena began to tap her foot rapidly. She looked away.
„So?", she asked vaguely.
Crowley let the question hang in the air for a bit., then he lay back fully on the prison cot and propped his feet up on the cement wall. He glanced over to see that Rowena was staring at him angrily, waiting for an answer. He rolled his eyes.
„No, I was not drunk. No, it was not deliberate, and no I have no memory of it."
Crowley noticed Rowena's face relax slightly, her shoulders as well. „And you would testify to that? Even before a Stone?"
Crowley winced. She meant a Cairn Stone, of course, a rather painful way of extracting the truth from people suspected of lying. He had actually been dragged before five of him in his lifetime.
„Yes, I actually would, but I would truly like to avoid that."
She nodded. „Well, we'll see, it's literally out of my hands now." She walked to the end of the hall outside of the cell and spoke in whispers to the guard there. He came back with her, an Angel with blue eyes and rumpled, dark-brown hair.
„This is the Angel Castiel," Rowena said. „He's agreed to release you to my custody, but only under close observation."
„From you?" Crowley raised his eyebrows in surprise. „Mother, where will you ever find the time?"
„From me, actually," the Angel cut in in a gravelly, harsh voice. He fumbled in his jacket and produced a set of keys, which he unlocked the cell with. „I will be with you for the next two days. I will assess the level of danger that you pose to yourself and to society in general."
„Oh….joy," Crowley grumbled dryly.
Castel met his eyes with a steel-hard gaze. „You are like a ticking time bomb, if I understand the history of your…..'events' that I read. It may be time to defuse that bomb."
„What is that supposed to mean?" Crowley answered back warningly. „You going to put me down like a dog?"
„If it comes to that…."
„I'd love to see you try it, choir-boy,"
„Boys!" Rowena interjected sternly. „Play nice. Or this is going to be a very long two days." She fixed her gaze on Crowley. „He is an Angel. He will follow the rules. Period. Be sure not to break them."
„Yes, mother, but…:"
She held up her hand to stop him. „And you," she said, turning to Castiel. „He is an innocent. These visions are not his doing. They come from somewhere beyond. An outside influence. It has been nearly a decade since the last one, and until I and the Mages can determine exactly what is causing them, he remains innocent, and thus by Divine Law is under the protection of the Angels, do you understand?
Castiel watched her, then nodded reluctantly.
„Good. Then. Let's go back to that bar and see if we can't put some of the pieces together, shall we?"
What was left of Impala's was barely recognizable as ever having been anything resembling a building, let alone a two-story club.
„He did this?" Castiel asked incredulously, turning to Rowena, open-mouthed.
„You've read the reports, you told me that yourself," Rowena answered dryly, surveying the damage.
„Yes, but seeing it…:" Castiel shook his head. „This can't be allowed to..."
She held up a hand. „You do not be wanting to finish that statement, Angel. We haven't even started our investigation."
„Yes, but…."
She held out her hand more emphatically, and Castiel slumped. „Allright, but if you can't stop him…."
„Fair enough," she answered. „Now, where's Dean?"
Dean Winchester was sitting on a burned out cross-beam drinking a beer. Judging by the number of empty bottles collected around his feet, he had been at it for a long time.
„Bar's closed….didn't you see the sign outside?" He said sarcastically, tipping the bottle and not looking in their direction.
„We have some questions, Mr. Winchester," Castiel said.
„Dean….and the police have already asked me all the questions I'll be wanting to answer at this particular moment in my life."
„We're not the police."
Dean looked over at them disinterestedly, until his eyes settled on Crowley standing behind them. His eyes widened in sudden shock and fear and he dropped the beer, the bottle shattering over the debris-strewn floor. He awkwardly tried to put the cross-beam between him and them.
„You crazy?! You brought this guy back here?!", he yelled, jabbing his finger and arm at Crowley. He squinted at them and titled his head to the side. „Don't I know you?", he asked, looking at Rowena, then he turned his gaze over to Castiel. His mouth closed with an audible click, and he moved his head and neck backwards in surprise „Are you a freaking Angel?"
„Yes."
Dean's eyes widened some more, then he nodded in approval. „Well, yeah, good then….this guy used magic and trashed my club….go ahead…burn him out, or whatever it is that you guys do. Just make sure that when you're done, you get him the hell out of here."
„It's not that simple," Rowena said, moving closer and setting up a barstool that was still mainly intact, balancing it firmly on the floor. She sat down, managing to look prim while doing it. „You see, Mr_ Winchester, you are, in fact, the first actual witness to one of my son's ….episodes….and I'd like to know more about it."
„That's where I know you…." Dean muttered. He rummaged around in the detritus a bit and came out with a fresh beer, which he popped open and began drinking. „You're the head of the Mage's Council, aren't you?" He took a deep pull and shook his head, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. „And he's your son? Well….isn't that just great…."
„Mr. Winchester…."
„I mean, hell, at least I know you can actually pay for the damages…."
„It's already been paid for…."
„But the likelihood of you stopping your son from doing this again is like….what? Zero-point-zero?"
„Mr Winchester!" Rowena shouted. Dean stopped and stared. Rowena nodded. „That's exactly what I'm trying to do. Now, in your own words, please, what happened? And please, do not spare any details."
Dean stared, then nodded, taking another deep drink. „Allright, so….this guy comes stumbling in off the street into my bar….," he began, pointing at Crowley with the half-full beer.
„Drunk?" Rowena interupted. Crowley shot her a withering glance.
„Nah, see that's what I thought at first too. But I happened to be near the door and grabbed him…."
„And?"
Dean shook his head. „Not a trace of alcohol on his breath." Rowena turned back to Crowley, who gave her his best 'told-you-so' look that he could muster.
„Anyway, his eyes….I thought it was a trick of the light…."
Rowena leaned forward. „What about his eyes?"
„Well, like I said, it was dark in here….but….they looked to be solid black."
Crowley noticed the Angel go very stiff, his hand then slowly moving into his coat for something.
Rowena leaned back and tapped her chin. „Interesting, go on."
„Well, he started yelling and screaming….flailing around…."
„Was he saying anything specific?"
Dean shook his head. „Not that I could make out. I mean, some of it…."
„Go on…."
Crowley was now watching the Angel very carefully out of the corner of his eye, and became aware that the Angel was doing the same thing to him, jaw clenched, a drop of sweat appearing on his temple. He saw the flash of silver in his hands before the Angel could turn and flung himself behind the rubble that used to be the bar just as the Angel's arm came swinging around in an arc towards where he had just been standing. Rowena jumped, startled, then flung the chair back from herself and raised her hands.
„Et non tenetur stare, Dive, meae. Ut moveri non dum dimissi sunt!"
Castiel froze like a statue, grunting in an effort to move forward.
„What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed, jumping back. „What's that all about!?"
„He's….a…..demon…:" Castiel grunted through clenched teeth. „Must….be….destroyed….."
„He is nothing of the kind, Angel!" Rowena exclaimed, huffing. „He was channeling, as far as I can tell, and while it may have been a force of Darkness that he was channeling, he is, himself, no demon! Now stand down, or I will be forced to hold you here!" She turned back to Dean. „Now, what did you understand from my son's rantings? Speak!"
Dean blinked and set his beer down. „Um….nothing, something about a book…."
„What book?"
„I dunno, he said ‚Book of the Damned' or something like that, then he just lost it…..flames shot out everywhere, blast like a bomb…."
Rowena stared, then waved her hand. Castiel was visibly freed from the spell and looked reluctantly back and forth between Rowena and Crowley, who was still ducking down behind the bar and watching Castiel carefully. He grunted and replaced his Blade.
„The Book of the Damned…." She whispered, repeating Dean's words.
„Do you have it?" came a voice from the back of the ruins. A figure stepped out, wearing a tight t-shirt with the name ‚Impala's' embroidered on it in stylized script.
„Who is that?" Crowley asked, poking his head out from behind the bar, a wary eye still on Castiel.
„Um….Attie…." Dean muttered. „Started working here last week…." He blinked. „What are you still doing here?" he asked her, puzzlement on his face.
She looked at Dean, a look of pity and sadness on her face. Then she looked back to Rowena. „The Book of the Damned. Do you have one?"
Rowena regarded her, a look of curiosity and fascination on her face. „I know you," she stated matter-of-factly.
Attie looked a bit surprised. „You do?"
„You are ancient. One of the three Sisters, as a matter of fact. What are you doing here?"
Attie's eyes widened. „Your realm…..you use magic here….."
Rowena frowned. „Our….'realm'? Do you mean to imply our dimension?"
Attie nodded. „You are very well versed here. More than most of the realms. There may be hope."
The blood drained out of Rowena's face. „Hope….hope for what?"
„To save you from the Darkness."
Rowena's vision flashed back to the scrying pool…..
...her world….a vision of light and fire….stretched out in the Darkness and Void…teeth, great, hungry teeth closing in all around them….the fire going out…..swallowed….
She blinked and found Attie staring at her.
„You've seen it, haven*t you?"
„Yes. But….our Realm….it is not ….I'd always assumed….what with our knowledge of the workings of the universe and use of magic in it's purest form….because of our close communion with Heaven and it's Angels….I am of course aware of other dimensions and worlds..."
Attie nodded. „You thought that you were the Prime Realm….the Center of the Weave…..Creation, didn't you?"
Rowena looked away, tears welling in her eyes. „We are not, are we?"
Attie looked sad, and shook her head. „No." She hesitated. „And…the Book?"
Rowena began to weep openly now. „Well….in our ‚vast wisdom', we decided that that particular book was too dangerous to be allowed to exist…..so…."
Attie's head bowed. „Oh."
"Yes, 'oh'," Rowena repeated in a croaking gasp. „What happens now?"
Attie turned away. „It's almost here."
Crowley had risen from the rubble and was standing near Castiel. „Mother, what in the hell are you two talking about….?" he asked worriedly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
„Without the Book….you were using it to link the Realms to the Core of Creation, correct?" Rowena asked hollowly, almost clinically. „A sort of a life-raft? Clever, really. And my son? His visions….a beacon? You use manifestations of him to locate the Book, and use the Book itself as a re-occurring, fixed locus." She nodded to herself and wiped at her eyes with shaking hands. „It's about the only thing of magic powerful enough to do it, isn't it?"
Attie smiled thinly. „You are very wise, here."
Rowena barked out a laugh. „For all the good that will do us…." She looked at Attie, wonder and horror mixed on her face. „My Heavens, child, how many Realms have you visited….?"
Attie smiled and shook her head. „If I think of it in terms of raw numbers, I would go mad. I am a Fate. This is my nature. I am the only one that can do this, actually."
Rowena nodded, then stared at the floor, her face going blank from weariness and sadness.
.„How long do we….?"
Her sentence was never finished.
The Creature fed, the burning Light of the Realm flaring in it's endless, hollow gut, before disappearing.
Forever.