The fallen tree branches intertwined with the overgrown roots that covered the ground. The humid air made it difficult to breathe. The valiant champions included a widowed Killian, his priest brother, and their father. They were amongst the last line of defense. They had all lost so much already. Wives, fathers, mothers, husbands and children; families torn apart. They were walking into a death trap knowingly as they split away from each other. Each falling prey to traps and illusions created to not only torment their minds but end their lives. The only hope left was to end the Queen Witch's power and in her death, humanity would find their salvation at whatever the cost. The band of brave men made their way through the ice cold mountains to her lair. The darkness of the forest aided the evil hag and her minions as they killed the men one by one. The screams echoed within the trees. They needed to reach her nest; the Hexen dwelled within the tallest tree in the center. The giant sequoia stood in the middle of the field covered in shadows, the vines bulging from the ground across the path. The perfect abode for those who worshiped the darkness. Light had no place here.
The temperature dropped as the brave man could see his breath in front of him while he struggled to keep his wits and focus on the task at hand. He stepped over his fallen brethren while making his way deeper into the nest. He knew there would be no surviving the quest but failure was not an option.
The ground shook abruptly and grumbled. His attention was drawn to the silhouettes in front of him. One was crouched on the ground, and the other was kneeling in front of the first one. He moved swiftly to get a closer look, and to his dismay, he could now see the witch had her hand inside the chest of a man. It was an older man whose features were enhanced by the flame of the fire surrounding them. It was his father.
"Liam!" He bellowed for his brother to help as he rushed to save their father.
His father looked at him one last time as life was crushed out of his heart.
The ground trembled again, and it became icier as the sudden snow flurries covered his body. He reached the crone as she stood up to face him with an evil smirk. She moved quickly in front of him, and reached for his heart. He was able to evade her hands with a spin; he swung his iron blade at her as she cackled, mocking him.
Killian finally managed to do the unbelievable and get the upper hand. The witch struggled to stay upright and she shoved her hand inside his chest. "I curse you to eternal life. You will continue to live and see all those around you die. You will be left behind. Forever alone." She squeezed his heart one last time before taking her last breath.
His eyes shot open at the violent yawing of the craft. This went beyond turbulence. It was freezing. It was an abnormal storm. He stood up to find the culprit but the flight attendant stopped him. "Sir, you need to go back to your seat," the woman said as she pressed her hand on his hard chest.
Killian could see the interest in her eyes but right now was not the time. "I'm sorry, lass. I need to use the facilities," he said in a low voice while invading her space.
She smiled in return. "You should return to your seat."
"I promise to do so after I've done my business." He crossed his heart.
She looked around and noticed no one was paying attention to them. "All right, but try to be quick." She smiled, hoping her leniency will earn her a nice lay over.
Killian walked past the restroom to the small flight attendant station. He grabbed a cup of water and pulled out a pouch from his wallet. It had a couple of small tools including a needle, which he quickly dropped in the water.
The plane jerked violently due to what appeared to be turbulence. The other passengers were beginning to panic as the oxygen masks dropped.
The needle guided him to the source, a redheaded young woman hugging a black bag. Luckily the seat next to her was empty, so Killian sat down. The girl looked up with wide eyes. He smiled and said, "Lass, hand it over." He extended his hand for her to place the bag in. She was about to object then she gasped as she realized his identity and placed the bag on his waiting hand. He opened it and noticed the runes were stuck. "Bloody hell, lass. Why did you think jamming weather controlling runes together was a good idea?" Killian scolded as he sped up his actions; he poured a potion to neutralize and separate the runes using tweezers. "I've been looking for these for a very long time. Lass, these tiny things manipulate the weather. Rain, cold, wind, heat... and you thought it was a good idea to put them together in your bag? Do you know what you get when you mix a thunderstorm with cool, moist air? You almost killed us all. We are lucky you didn't get them wet. You witches have no idea the power you possess." He shook his head in disbelief as he pulled out a case from his jacket pocket and placed each rune inside after covering it carefully with a cloth.
"I know you are the witch hunter. Are you going to kill me?" the girl asked.
"Why would I kill you, lass? I just saved your life," Killian said. "I have a code."
"Are you going to turn me in to the witch council? I didn't do it on purpose. I inherited those from my sister. I swear it was an accident."
"No need to fret. Enjoy your stay." He winked at her and stood up, leaving her behind to go back to his seat.
The flight attendant noticed him walking back to his seat while she finished providing some water to the passengers to help calm them down.
"Excuse me sir, I thought I told you to go to your seat?" the flight attendant said, annoyed.
"I'm sorry, love, but a young lass was in distress. I just wanted to make sure she wasn't anymore. My name is Killian Jones, I much prefer being called that.
How about I buy you a drink to make up for my lack of listening skills?" he said with a sexy raised eyebrow.
The woman tried to play it as if she wasn't tempted but the blushed cheeks gave her away. "Well, Killian, I suppose that would be all right."
"We can meet at baggage claim and set sail from there," he said as he raised her hand to his lips.
Witches are among us
Descendants from an ancient race called Hexen
Their magick diluted, half-forgotten but dangerously powerful
After centuries of conflict, a truce was forged
Witches would live freely if they followed one strict rule, magicks could never be used against humans
A truce is a fragile thing…
There are those who long for the dark days of the Witch Queen, Gothel.
It is those whom Killian deals with.
For centuries, he has
served The Order of Blazing Sword and Cross.
I serve The Order in a different manner.
I write Killian's history.
I am his handler, his confessor, and his we have kept watch and kept the peace.
I'm Dolan the 36th, Father Nemo
Father Nemo arrived at Killian's place to take the report from the most recent mission.
The doorman smiled at the older man. "Father Nemo. I'm sorry, but he is in a meeting. Could you please take a seat while you wait?"
The elevator opened and a woman exited wearing a flight attendant uniform.
"I think the meeting is over, my boy," Father Nemo said as he rose from his seat to walk to the elevator.
Killian opened his door with a wide satisfied smile on his face. "Hello, old friend."
Father Nemo rolled his eyes. "You know you are older than me."
Killian shrugged. "However, as you can see, I've maintained my youthful glow."
"That doesn't explain why you have no sense of time," Father Nemo scolded him.
Killian rolled his eyes fondly.
Father Nemo smiled at the man in front of him. Killian was physically younger, but was actually much older than him. However, time stands still for no one. We should get to business, he thought as he pulled out his journal and pen from his bag to prepare for the details. "I assume the mission was a success and you were able to recover the weather runes without incident?"
"Aye, they are safely put away in the vault," Killian replied. "Old man, really? You get upset at my teasing but I believe you secretly enjoy it. That is why you are not willing to use any of the tech I gift you with. Where's the iPad I gave you?"
"If you must know, I regifted it. Besides, you will not need to worry after my retirement." Dolan the 36th, Father Nemo reaffirmed his decision it was time to move on.
"Oh, you were serious. I thought you would reconsider but since you are set in retiring, I got you a small token." Killian smiled as he handed a box to his old friend.
"You didn't have to do this." Father Nemo grabbed the box and opened it to find a very rare, expensive Waterman 402 pen. "Oh my. I thought you didn't get sentimental. This is lovely but truly too expensive."
"We've had a good run. We took out many dangerous covens. I finally got used to you and now you want to find greener pastures."
"I'm going to miss you."
"You know you can still keep the pen if you reconsider," Killian said with a hopeful smile.
"I'm leaving you in modern hands. Besides, the vow was not til death but to face it at your side."
"You do know there are only two Dolan's advice I have ever listened to: my brother Liam, the first Dolan, and you."
"Fine company I'm in but wait a minute, you ignored it all the time!" Nemo said irritated.
"Perhaps, but I always listened."
"Killian, what if you could retire too? What would you do?"
"Ah, but I can't."
"Just humor me."
"I'm not blind to the importance of my job. Every day I wake up, the world is safe."
"I wish you could live. Truly. You are missing the best part. The one that goes beyond ships passing in the night. Flight attendants or whoever you found for the evening."
"There's nothing wrong with a dalliance."
"You need to find someone to trust and share your life with."
"Old man, let's finish this then."
After they finished the report they parted ways. Dolan the 36th, Father Nemo left to finalize his report and hand over the file on Killian Jones to his replacement, Dolan the 37th, Father Gideon.
Father Nemo's words of advice for the young Father Gideon were to serve with distinction and to remember that Killian was more than a weapon as the elders of The Flaming Sword and Cross loved to refer to him as. He was beyond his success rate or the numbers of witches in detention or the ones that paid the ultimate price for breaking the law.
The next day, Killian's phone rang. "Hello?"
"Mr. Jones, this is Dolan the 37th, Father Gideon. I'm sorry to inform you that Dolan the 36th, Father Nemo passed away in his sleep peacefully. The ceremony will be tomorrow."
Killian was alone now. His friend was gone and it served as a reminder to not allow anyone else to enter his heart.
The unexpected death of his old friend had reopened the scars left behind by the loss of his wife Milah, their young daughter Alice, his father Brennan, and brother Liam months later. Killian had spent years protecting his heart and focusing on the job, claiming he had a right to seek vengeance for all the world had lost. Now he was grieving for the last person he allowed himself to care for. He truly would die alone. The Order hadn't even given a proper burial to his friend as they now pledged the new Dolan. Killian couldn't stomach the ceremony and stepped out. He sat down on a bench and contemplated his life.
The young Dolan the 37th sat next to him.
Killian's eyes stayed focused on an object as he spoke. "Do you see that cornerstone?"
Dolan, the 37th, nodded. "Yes, Sir. I do. I'm-"
Killian interrupted him. "I watched them lay it in when all that was there was a cornfield. That was long ago. Everything changes, only I remain." Killian finally faced the young man.
"Sir, I'm sorry for your loss. I wanted to pledge my life and loyalty to you. Please, call me Gideon."
"Father Gideon, there are levels of evil everywhere. However, I've never seen people get old, retire, and die on the same day."
"Sir, I know this isn't the proper time but I need to sort you out with a new identity and all that comes with it." Father Gideon stated as he pulled an envelope from the briefcase.
Killian rolled his eyes. "I understand all of you Dolans are fierce rule followers but I will be clear. First, I don't need a new identity. Second, there are more pressing matters. Something doesn't add up. You were the last one to see Father Nemo. I need to go to his place." Killian stood and walked towards his black super sport 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle.
At least it's not red, Father Gideon muttered as he opened the car door and slipped in. "Sir, I understand, but a low profile is important to keep. As for Father Nemo, what are you thinking?
"I'll know when I see it." With that he started the car and drove to Nemo's home.
They entered and Killian looked around. "How do you know when there's magic in the vicinity? It comes from four elements; fire, water, earth, and air. The correct alchemical triggers will reveal its presence." Killian informed Father Gideon as he continued his inspection. "It appears there was no magic here. However, if the window hasn't been opened, how did this get in here?"
Gideon looked at the dead flies on the floor.
"One means nothing. Two perhaps a coincidence but three, that means trouble. He was killed by witches."
Killian got his confirmation once the glamor spell was lifted. "This is a declaration of war."