A Scripta

Kalius threw open the door to end the incessant pounding. The man on the other side regained himself as he realized the door wasn't there for him to pound on.

"What."

A woman in robes, and two men in obvious hero outfits stood at the door. The pounder was dressed in casual modern clothes. "Kalius of Thebes?"

"Yes."

"Can we come in?"

He held the door open to them. They streamed into the room, and Kalius passed his hand through his hair. "Is this about last night?"

"Yes, it is." The man in casual dress looked around the house. "How long have you owned this house?"

"My...ex bought it. The deed's right here." He went to a shelf and took down the manila envelope. The man sighed when he looked at it, looked up at the other people. "Almost a year."

The group of them looked around, saddened or upset. The woman in robes went over to the trap door. Kalius watched her carefully. She asked, "What's down there?"

"Wine casks. He bought all the furnishings to make it look lived in."

"Mind if I go downstairs?"

"I do."

The woman turned to him, her eyes glowing gold. Kalius looked back at her, steadily. The casually-dressed man handed Kalius back the deed. "We do not allow anyone to purchase a house here."

"I'm not going to live here." Kalius looked back at the woman. "You *really* don't want to go into my head ."

"Cassie," said one of the heroes. She closed her eyes and opened them, her eyes returned to a normal hazel color. The hero said to Kalius, "Then tell us what is downstairs."

"A vampire."

"You didn't beat this man Atticus because he found out you had a vampire companion?"

"No, he insulted us."

Said the woman coming back to them, "'Greek sheep-fuckers' was the exact term. And catamite?"

The other hero nodded. "Means faggot." Kalius bristled. That hero looked at Kalius. "Just explaining."

"Luckily he's healed, though he wants to exact vengeance," said the casually-dressed man. "Technically, you're not working for the Midnighters, though you have done some things for us in the past. Think you could pay a fine and stay away from here for a few days?"

"Do we lose the house?"

"I'll have to check with my superiors. Most likely, yes. You never should have had it in the first place."

Fucking Grim, Kalius thought in rage again.

The man who explained what catamite meant said, "You have a tie here. Maybe if you promise not to associate with the citizens..."

The woman glided over. "There are other heroes who have ties to Ancient Rome. Do we allow them all to come here?"

The casual man said, "It's not for us to decide." He started to the door, his entourage following. "Please leave by tonight. We'll send a messenger with the amount of the fine."

The people left. Kalius went into the house and punched the stone hearth. He was going to hurt Grim.

Spurius watched the guests mill around his courtyard. He had twenty couches, and just ordered the extra two for the two men he invited yesterday. Although the man of the house was Greek, he had hoped his wife or concubine would be of some Roman stock. Otherwise - and he looked across the room at his guest Atticus - things could get a little testy. He had put Atticus far away from his Greek guest.

He sipped his wine and watched the doorway. Then the door opened, and Kalius of Thebes entered, wearing a deep red tunic with an undyed toga over it. Following him came a tall dark-haired man, wearing a simple off-white tunic with the same sort of toga over it. Both men looked confident.

"Soldiers?" asked his wife's brother, Cenna Cornelius, standing at his elbow.

"How do you know?"

"Their stance, how they move, with purpose."

Spurius knew soldiers would drink themselves silly. First Greeks, now soldiers. He couldn't kick them out now. What could be worse?

The two men came down to the dining area. Kalius bowed to the host. "This is my companion, Dmitrius."

Spurius looked up at the tall man, and Cenna gasped. "Your companion?" Spurius asked, not wanting to hear the clarification.

"I am his lover," said Dmitrius in a deep rumbling voice.

Kalius smiled, and Dmitrius moved closer to Kalius. Spurius realized it could indeed get worse. If Atticus found out, there would be insults, and maybe blood.

Cenna was no help, running off and leaving him with the two men. Spurius forced himself to smile. "It is good to see you. Please, come inside. Would you like some wine?"

"I do not drink," Dmitrius said. Kalius said he would take one. Spurius brought them to the couches that lay against the table. Women had stopped and stared at the men, not hearing that they were lovers. A couple of the women smiled at them, obviously flirting. Dmitrius smiled and said to Kalius in their native tongue, "We have admirers."

A few minutes after getting comfortable on the couches, dinner began to be served. Slaves came in bearing plates: jellyfish and eggs, udders stuffed with milk and eggs, boiled mushrooms with peppered fish-sauce, sea urchins with a thick spicy black sauce. Dmitrius watched it all with a smile, and Kalius looked at his lover, grinning. "Been a long time," Kalius said, and dipped the mushrooms in the sauce. Dmitrius acted like he was eating. A couple of dogs had appeared just under the table.

A woman sat next to Dmitrius, and watched as he brought food to his mouth and it would disappear. Dmitrius flashed his hand down, faster than the human eye could catch. The dog below snapped up the food. She smiled and flirted, and Dmitrius would turn to his lover pointedly. A woman next to Kalius was also flirting with him, but Kalius ignored her. Then a slave came over and whispered something to the woman next to Dmitrius, and the woman blushed. She turned back to the table, watching them clear the left overs away.

The first entertainment began. A young lady came out and performed on a lyre. Dmitrius put his elbows on the table and his head on his hand to watch. He smiled, remembering the times he had serenaded Kalius with his lyre in their tents, or all of them belting out drinking songs with the men at the fire. Kalius would sing to him too, quietly, as they lay together, believing he didn't have a voice for it so he wouldn't do it in front of others. Dmitrius glanced at Kalius, who was also enjoying the music. Maybe tonight, he would sing again for Kalius. He hadn't sung for a man since...he didn't want to think about it.

The young girl finished her playing, and there was polite applause. She wasn't bad, but she missed a few notes. Dmitrius saw the resemblance between her and their host, and assumed she was the daughter this banquet was for. Slaves came around and passed rose water over their hands into a bowl, giving them linen to wipe their fingers. The second course followed.

Kalius looked at the food coming out and realized he had forgotten how sumptuous Roman banquets were. Professional musicians were sitting down off to the side, just a quartet, as the slaves brought dishes: Deer roasted with onion sauce, dates, raisins, oil and honey; boiled ostrich with sweet sauce; turtledoves boiled and feathers re-stuck on them. Kalius fell on the venison slices like a man famished. The dogs beneath Dmitrius enjoyed them too.

And still, more food came. Roast parrot. Dormice stuffed with ground pork and pine kernels. Ham boiled with figs and bay leaves, rubbed with honey, baked in small pastry crusts like pies. Flamingo boiled with dates, its head reattached. Musicians played, and people talked quietly. Dmitrius took a pie as someone yelled, "Catamites!"

The room fell silent, and some people turned to look at Kalius and Dmitrius. Both men froze, knowing that word as a Latin derogatory term for a homosexual. Kalius slowly put down his dormice, and Dmitrius followed suit with his pie. A man in long black hair and a beard was standing up next to his couch, shaking with rage. A woman was holding his arm, and the host drew himself up, saying, "They are my guests."

"They are Greek barbarians!" The man glared at Spurius. "You invite these sheep-fuckers in your home?"

Kalius jumped up. Dmitrius moved a little more determinedly. The man shook off the woman, and started moving around the table in their direction. Kalius started going around, to meet him half way, and Dmitrius put an arm out to try and stop his Erastes. Kalius stopped, even though knowing he could easily walk around Dmitrius. "Ignore him, Erastes."

Some people caught the Greek word, including the man heading their way. "YOU'RE the passive one?" He stared incredulously at Dmitrius. "Aren't you ashamed?"

"No," said Dmitrius calmly. Kalius clenched and unclenched his right hand, itching to summon the sword. "You would not understand."

"I understand that you are Greek pigs."

Kalius stormed right up to the man, and even though he came up to the man's neck, and had to look up at him, he exuded more fury than the dark-haired man. "Take that back, right now."

"Fuck you."

Kalius then gave the man a feral grin, and Dmitrius knew what that grin meant. It meant blood.

Kalius said darkly, "Let's step outside, then, and see who fucks who."

Dmitrius got up, knowing that he couldn't stop his lover now. He could pick up the pieces of flesh when Kalius was done.

"Atticus!" Spurius called, "Please don't do this!"

Said another man, "Atticus, they're seasoned soldiers. They'll kill you."

Atticus said, "The little one can try." He led the way out the front door.

Kalius followed, and as soon as he cleared the threshold, Atticus grabbed him by the toga and threw him out into the stone lane. Kalius rolled, shedding himself of the toga and crouching in his tunic. Dmitrius stood at the threshold, hands behind his back and watching calmly. He forced himself to look like he was breathing, since humans were watching.

Kalius got to his feet just as Atticus came down the three stairs. Kalius' eyes were on fire. Atticus stopped for half a second too long, and Kalius sprung at him, tackling him back, landing on the stairs. Then he got up, holding Atticus by a fistful of toga, yanking him up and lifting him easily off the ground with one hand. He cocked his fist back, and slammed it into Atticus' stomach, forcing all the air out of his lungs, then threw him into the wall ten feet away. He slowly walked toward Atticus.

Atticus tried to catch his breath, but he probably had a punctured lung. Kalius picked him up, and punched him again, this time in the face. Dmitrius closed his eyes; that certainly meant a dislocated, if not broken, jaw. People had rushed out of the house, and a woman screamed, "Stop it! Stop hitting my husband."

Dmitrius said quietly, "He shouldn't have said those things."

The woman whirled on Dmitrius and pounded on his chest. It was like hitting a rock wall. "You disgusting Greek pigs! You're unfit for living in this town! I'll have words with Romulus himself!"

"I am sorry to hear that," Dmitrius said, as the husband flew by them into the other wall. Kalius stopped at the mention of Romulus. He hadn't even broken a sweat, and looked like he had just thrown a ball around for fun. Atticus lay in a heap against the wall.

"Do you think that name causes fear?" Kalius roared, his eyes on fire and heading to the woman. "I spit on the name of Romulus. We serve Imperious, the rightful ruler here."

The people looked slightly uncomfortable. Kalius grabbed Dmitrius' hand, and they started walking down the lane at a brisk military march.

(Cimerora stories will take place in or concern themselves with that zone)

Kalius was a light sleeper, a left over habit from all those years on campaign. He thought he heard someone upstairs, and immediately bolted upright. The cellar was dark, though he could see the sunlight at the edges of the door and window. He found the lantern and lit it, illuminating the bed he and Dmitrius had manhandled through the door. He headed to the stairs and peered over the trap door of the floor that led to the cellar they slept in.

He heard a woman's voice, singing a lilting tune, and heard her moving around. Then she heard her stop and say in Latin, "What?"

Kalius cleared the cellar entrance and put down the trap door quietly. He straightened his tunica and padded over to the archway of the seating area. A woman in a simple stola with no sleeves stood staring at the couch where Kalius and Dmitrius had left their duffel bags. Kalius coughed politely.

She whirled, and put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir!"

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I was hired to clean the house once a month, sir," she said, wringing her hands nervously. "My father owned this house before the strange yellow-haired man bought it."

Kalius smiled a little - strange for Grim wasn't the word. "You don't have to come anymore."

She started walking back to the door, her head bowed. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"No, I had to get up anyway. What did your father do? There seem to be a lot of wine casks around."

"My father was a wine merchant. The buyer bought everything in the house - he wanted it to look lived in." She rolled her eyes a little, "As my father constantly told anyone who asked how he took the stranger for a great amount of money."

"How much?"

"3800 denarii."

Kalius blinked - that was more than he made in one year as a legionnaire in Ceasar's army during this time period. In ten years' service he would have gotten land, but he never lived that long. "Your father certainly did get a deal."

The woman stopped at the door. "I can make you something to eat."

Kalius looked around the hearth - it was cold, and looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. There was a door to the back of the house which led out to a tiny flat area where wood was stacked. His cooking on an open fire was mostly during campaign, and other times women did cook for them. However, he really didn't expect to live there - there were plenty of vendors in the village, and he knew he would be the only one to eat.

"No, I was going to go to town to buy something."

"Oh. I will leave you alone, then."

"Thank you," he said, and watched her leave. He took a breath, and looked around the home. It looked lived in, but in a transient way. He went back downstairs to make sure Dmitrius was all right, and then he did leave to go to a vendor.

He got something to eat and sat on the fountain with some bread, smoked cheese in the shape of a small bowl, and olives in the bowl. He people watched, and the soldiers seemed to examine him out of the corner of their eye. He knew he looked like a stranger attempting to assimilate as best he could. He would have to go to the clothier's to pick up more tunicas.

At the top of the hill to their house stood a man, waiting. Kalius stopped and studied the man from a distance. He was certainly a merchant, from the way he was dressed, probably the man Grim bought the house from. Kalius went up the stairs and the man smiled at him. Kalius gruffly asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Spurius Decia Mus, I was the owner of this place."

"It is a very nice house."

"I thought it had been abandoned. My daughter told me no one had been here for a while."

"He was busy. It'll be used now." Kalius glared at him, waiting for him to leave.

Spurius ignored it. "I will be having a banquet tomorrow night in celebration of my niece's fourteenth birthday. I would like to invite you."

"When?"

"It will begin at sunset."

"Can I bring a guest?"

"Of course!" Spurius clapped his hands. "It is good to meet you..."

"Kalius of Thebes."

He blinked. "Thebes? You're..."

"Greek."

"Ah." The wine merchant smiled even more. "Then it will be good to have you and your guest attend."

"Thank you," Kalius said shortly. "If you'll excuse me..." He opened the door and went inside, leaning against the door. He smiled. He hadn't been to a real Roman banquet in...over a thousand years. Still smiling, he went into the other room and started a small fire in the hearth. This time, he would proudly bring his lover...

Just as the sun hit the horizon, Dmitrius snapped his eyes open. He felt a pleasant, warm weight on his chest, and could hear his lover's heart beat against his own chest, and Kalius' breathing which meant he wasn't sleeping, but lying there comfortably. Dmitrius moved his arm and passed his fingers through Kalius' hair. His breathing quickened just slightly, and he let out a sigh. "You're awake," he said, and moved his head up to Dmitrius' face. They kissed, Dmitrius' fingers still entwined in Kalius' hair, squeezing his fingertips along Kalius' scalp.

Dmitrius smiled, and turned to see the bits of light through the windows. "I've been waking up earlier," he said, and looked again at Kalius. "I have a reason." Dmitrius pulled Kalius on top of him. Kalius smiled broadly.

The sun had dipped under the horizon by the time the two men left the cellar, hand in hand. Kalius put lanterns on through the house, so it was brightly lit. The hearth had a small enough fire to throw off heat to warm Kalius and not disturb Dmitrius. Dmitrius didn't like fire - he tolerated the fireplace in the base, though he sat stiffly next to it, as if ready to bolt over the couch at any errant spark.

"Did I miss anything?" Dmitrius asked, as Kalius finished lighting a lantern.

"We had a couple of visitors."

"Oh?"

"A cleaning lady that Grim hired, and someone inviting us to a banquet."

Dmitrius crossed his arms and gave Kalius a crooked smile. "Us?"

"Me and a guest."

"Ah. When is this?"

"Tomorrow starting at sunset."

"We can show up fashionably late, to let me take a traitorous centurion?"

Kalius nodded. "If we rush now, we can get to the clothiers to get proper clothes."

"Indeed." Dmitrius went to the door and let Kalius out. Kalius locked the door, and when he turned around, Dmitrius was already gone. "Why that..." Kalius chuckled, and saw a dust trail in the dusk leading into the city. Kalius followed at his high speed also.

Once he found the shield, Grim couldn't see his future any more. It wasn't very accurate in his opinion - he wouldn't have gotten hit by the car in Africa if it was. General things he was able to see, such as knowing he and Caden would bond together, Anwen would also have an aptitude for magic and art and steal his items to play with. He would have constant friction with the technomancers. He would find himself in a few physical fights with them. Dmitrius would taste his blood. Stefan would return, then leave for good. There wasn't much after that.

He also saw his end. It was blurry, so maybe the Fates hadn't finished weaving it yet. It was a long time to come, because he knew he would teach an older Caden and Anwen, and reluctantly Aysun in an attempt to turn her against her father.

Grim approached the chest, where the bottles of mages' essences sat. He had also seen himself take them, and saw how they fractured his mind. He already didn't feel like himself. He had insulted Petite, still accusing her of infidelity. He had hurt Aysun, and didn't feel any remorse. He told Rorri he didn't want anything to do with her, since she dealt with the technomancers. Mind you, they saved her life...

My hate will turn me black again, he thought, sitting in front the chest. He looked at the essences, of hero mages that had been taken by the Circle of Thorns. Mages who were taught by covens, like Skylite, or possibly learned on their own. Mages who weren't full of hate and mistrust.

Don't you see? I know what mages can do. I'm one of them! You can't trust them. They use people. I've used people.

Grim picked up one of the bottles. It was red, with gold swirls throughout. This one he knew was a pyromancer. His name was Fire Dancer, and he was Native American, proud of his heritage. Grim had seen himself drink it and remembered he almost lost his mind due to the sheer force of Fire Dancer. Fire Dancer was a real hero, Grim had looked him up on Google. He had looked up all of them. Fire Dancer had a thing against Tsoo. They called him Cub Tawg, The Furnace.

Grim went to put the bottle back, when something said in his mind, Not all mages are like you.

He stopped, stared at the bottle.

You put yourself on all mages.

"They're arrogant sons of bitches."

All of them?

"All the ones in the supposed Order. Except Astor." Astor helped him, gave him the immunity against their probes. He owed him his friendship. Plus he was hot when he wasn't in his robes. "All the girls have fallen for them."

That is not your concern.

"They let them in here! They trust them!"

"Who are you talking to, Grim?"

Grim turned, startled, and looked at Raina. He turned beet red and put the bottle back. "Myself."

Raina looked concernedly at him. "Are you okay?"

"No. But you can't help me."

He got up, dusting himself off.

"I can listen."

"Raina, it's the same old shit that I can't shake." He started walking out. "I'm tempted to ask Jack to mindwipe me."

"What?!"

"Do what he did to Petite, do it to me."

Raina said, her hands on her hips, "He won't do that, Grim."

He turned to Raina and smiled a little. "Wouldn't hurt to ask."

Phil Kagan was famished. Talos Island was mostly Camarilla-controlled, with a few pockets here and there that were constantly contested, mostly around the shore. A few Sabbat packs controlled the islands and terrorized the Circle of Thorns there, but Phil didn't like his packmates. He tried to switch around, but the Bishops wouldn't let him. So he took off on his own.

He knew he could be hunted as a Sabbat. He didn't know if he wanted to be Sabbat any more. "Destroy, Drink, and Kill, for Tomorrow We Die," his Bishop kept saying. Phil wasn't that lusty. He had been walking home six months ago in Skyway and got attacked. Next thing he knew, he was buried under dirt, his stomach burning. He crawled out of the hollow grave and bit into the first thing offered. When the red haze cleared, he realized he was wallowing in the blood of a sixteen-year-old girl.

His packmates were disappointed in him. He didn't seem to pick up using a gun very well. He didn't bathe in the blood of his enemies. He didn't really fight much, either. He had excellent hearing, amazing distant sight, and he could feel the patterns of things in his fingertips. He didn't like using them. He didn't like getting dirty. His packmates started calling him Pansy.

Phil had arrived in Talos a couple of nights ago, feeding on the sleeping bums that he saw in alleyways. He caught a passed-out Freakshow once and got so high from it that he was able to jump from roof to roof for a couple of hours. Then he landed in a dumpster and broke his leg, but used his ability to fix it. Not that it didn't hurt.

He saw a group of men in brown vests gathered, and one man off to the side, gazing at the water. He could easily jump that man and drag him away. He approached, low to the ground like a cat, his eyes glazed over with the red haze. A strong, normal man, with thick, heavy blood...

He pounced, one hand over the man's mouth so he wouldn't scream, the other holding him tightly. His body shoved them both to the ground and he felt the air whoosh out against his hand. He roughly shoved the man's head aside and bit hard into the jugular. The blood was sweet, strong, not like the bums, not like Freakshow, but blessedly normal and full of life. He was lost in the ecstacy of it.

Something grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket and lifted him bodily off the man, throwing him aside like he weighed no more than a scarecrow. He flew in the air and was stopped only by the rock wall about a hundred yards behind him. He fell against it, and slid down, stunned. He willed himself out of it, and looked to see a huge white man bent over his dinner.

Phil struggled up. How dare he! With a cry of anger, he rushed at the man. The man merely straightened, and caught Phil by the throat. He felt something snap and saw stars in his agony. Then he felt himself hitting the ground and bouncing.

"Who are you," rumbled the white man above him, "and why are you in my hunting grounds?"

He knew his head was hanging at a weird angle from his body. He didn't think he could speak anyway. Phil could now see that the man was a Cainite like him, but much, much older. He tried to move his head back to its rightful place. When he did, he said, "I--"

Then the man punched him solidly in the stomach, enough to make him throw up the blood he just had. It spewed out and into the Cainite's face, and he punched him again, getting another fountain of blood. He did it one more time for good measure, though not much came out that time.

The Cainite wiped his face and sucked on his hand and coat. "That blood is my blood," he snarled, "and not yours to take."

Phil scrambled back, his clothes soaked with blood. "I--I'm sorry, I won't--I'll leave--"

The Cainite rose. "You're Sabbat."

"No, not anymore! I left them!"

"You are under no one's protection, Thin-Blood. The Prince will kill you outright if you present yourself to him."

Phil pleaded with him. "I don't know what to do!"

"How long ago were you Embraced?"

"Just before Thanksgiving."

The Cainite regarded him, looking thoughtful. "There is no room where I live, and you are still too young to be among kine and not give in to your urges." He watched Phil get up. "I'm sure no one has told you about the Camarilla, other than we all should die."

"The Camarilla holds back freedom." He looked down. "I really don't care about that."

"Oh? What do you care about?"

"I'm a CGI Designer. I don't care about politics."

"Computer art?"

He nodded.

"Did they tell you what your clan was?"

"Clan?"

"Bloodline. Who your sire was."

"No."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Not that I expected it. I'm surprised you survived this long."

Phil looked at the sleeve of his denim jacket, soaked through with blood. He brought his arm to his mouth and tried to suck on it. The Cainite didn't stop him.

"What am I going to do with you," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're an orphan, and will meet your Final Death either way you turn. I can't bring you with me." He looked around. "But I can leave you here. Come with me." He pointed out a small group of gang members, beating on a metallic man. "These are my hunting grounds, and I am appointing you gamekeeper."

"What do need me to do?"

"First, protect the civilians. Second, make sure no one chases them out."

"Protect the civilians?"

"That's what I said." He gazed at Phil. "No drinking from civilians. If I find out you did, I will kill you myself."

Phil gulped.

"You can have any other gang members that pass by. I'll come back and see how you're doing. If you're improving, then I'll expose you to the kine little by little."

"Okay." The Cainite turned from him.

"Take the Freakshow," he ordered.

Phil suddenly felt compelled to do what he said, and ran into the group. The Warriors scattered, and Phil fell on the Freak. He drank his fill, almost draining him, and the world exploded in light and wonder, staying that way for quite some time.

The Cainite was gone by the time he came back down from his trip, and sunrise was dangerously close. He as he crawled into a "Keep Out" mine shaft, he realized he didn't even know the Cainite's name.

Grim stumbled and fell to his knees. "For God's sake, Kalius, have mercy!"

Kalius, jogging in place, turned around and returned to Grim. Grim had fallen over and lay on his back, staring up at the sun of the Earth they had teleported to. "Be thankful I didn't tell you to go take a swim in the stream."

"We've been running for hours! Uphill!"

Kalius stopped jogging and looked with a smile at Grim. "Raina told me last night you're out of shape."

"No, she said I need to work on my footwork and my speed."

"Which means you're out of shape." He put his hands on his hips and studied him. "Magic's made you lazy."

"Been talking to Mareo?"

"You've been relying on your own magic and Raina's blood to get you by. Time to stop relying on magic."

"You do."

"Sometimes. But I can still fight without it. C'mon, get up."

Grim groaned and rolled to his knees, then stood up. "What's going to happen after this?"

"Breakfast."

"You cooking?"

"No, you are."

Grim whined. Kalius gave him a look, and Grim stopped. "You enjoy this."

He started jogging again. "I enjoy training men to the best of their ability. C'mon, Grim, I know you're better than this." He took off at a leisurely pace.

Grim watched him for a minute. He supposed he was right. He ran to catch up.


Grim stumbled into the base. He looked up to see Priest standing there, and Kalius walking by him nonchalantly. Priest gave him an amused look and sipped his coffee. Grim glared, though there really wasn't any menace behind it, and picked himself up to walk past him. He looked longingly at the couch and headed toward it.

"Eh eh," admonished Kalius. Grim, dejected, headed to the grotto. Jack and Raina, both looking like they just got up, were sitting on the couch together, feeding the babies. Grim looked again at the other couch and took two steps. Kalius grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to the kitchen. "No more sleeping until eleven o'clock for you," he said, and Raina chuckled.

Grim whirled on her. "This is all your fault!"

"You're the one who got his ass kicked."

"And I still don't know why."

"Probably something you said, Grim," said Kalius.

Grim went into the kitchen and got a cup of coffee, making it the way Kalius liked it and handed the mug over to him. Then he made his own. "Pancakes?"

"You're on a diet."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Kal!"

Jack laughed. Grim glared at Kal. "What, granola?"

"I'll get it." Kal went to the fridge, and thought for a minute. He pulled out a plate with a bagel and cream cheese, an apple and eggs with cheese.

Grim looked at it. "Oh, that's not so bad." He put the eggs in the microwave and Kal got his breakfast as well.

Mareo came in, carrying a black leather jacket over his arm. "Grim, you left your jacket on the couch near the fireplace."

"I didn't have a jacket yesterday."

"Well, it's not mine, it's too nice." He chuckled and came around to the kitchen, handing it over to him.

Grim took the jacket, and flicked it out. He noticed something on the breast and folded the jacket to look at it more closely. Kal looked over his shoulder. "It's a Gorgon's head," he said. It did look like what he pictured Medusa to be, a woman with snakes as her hair. It was embroidered in dark blue thread, so it wasn't very noticeable unless he looked at it directly. "Athena's symbol," Kal continued, and looked at the coat. "Aegis."

"What?"

He lifted the coat. "Aegis. Athena's shield."

"But Hades..."

"Put it on."

Grim shrugged into the coat. It didn't feel any different. Kalius turned from him, rummaged around in the utensil drawer and came up with a knife. Grim watched as he held the knife up, as if to stab him. "Kal!"

Kalius stabbed at Grim's shoulder. At hitting the jacket, the knife bent and broke at the hilt. Mareo stood, his arms across this chest. "Hm."

Kalius gathered the knife parts and tossed them in the trash. Grim took off the coat, and gazed at it. "Maybe this is the gods' way of saying 'I'm sorry'?"

"The apology needs to come from Hermes," Kalius said angrily. "And he will apologize." He looked at Grim, eyes blazing.

Grim didn't think an Aegis could protect him from Kalius' wrath - and possibly Dmitrius as well.

He wished he could use magical sight in the air. He wished for telepathy too, but he could only concentrate on one thing at a time. He dropped down at another village, this one just a few kilometers north of the other one. This one didn’t have a church. This one also had no people.

Confused, he started walking around. Something was here, he wasn’t sure what. He slipped into magic sight again and turned around in a circle. He stopped, facing something glowing gold, like a sun.

“Gotcha,” he said, and started walking toward it. He bumped into something, and blinked, his magic sight gone. He had walked into a wall of a building. He shrugged, turned the corner –

He came face to face with a statue in the alley way. First, Grim thought this was a stupid place to put a statue of a running man. Second, Grim saw the frozen look of terror on the man’s face. Grim stared at the statue, and recognition slowly came to him.

Grim went to the front of the building and tried to open the door, but it was locked. He made a rune of unlocking at the door, and he heard a bolt slide back. He tried again, and the door swung open.

He found himself facing a small dining area, with a family seated to dinner, looking in all different directions, all of them statues. Their food was untouched, and looked like it had been like that for at least a couple of days. He walked through the house. It had been ransacked, rooms and mattresses torn apart.

The more Grim went into houses, the angrier he got. Children with looks of terror or confusion were frozen in time. Adults tried to run but were caught. Some tried to hide their eyes but were too late. Babies were turned to stone in their cribs.

That last did it. Grim drew the dagger, no longer a sickle, but the black sword he had seen at his side. He didn’t care if Hades said he wasn’t allowed to kill anybody – whoever did this didn’t deserve to live. He went a little ways down the road and saw the car that had hit him, the engine stopped and the doors wide open. He peeked inside – the keys were still there, and it was in park. He looked in the back seat and saw the woman who had passed out, turned to stone with a look of astonishment.

“Oh, no,” Grim said, and whirled around to look along the side of the road. He looked at the ground but couldn’t read tracks. He stood there for a minute. “Think, think, think…what turns people to stone…?”

He raised his head suddenly, as his mind filled with the answer. Perseus had killed Medusa, with the aid of Athena’s shield, and when he did, Athena took the Gorgon’s visage and put it on her shield from that time forward.

“Oh, fuck.” He should use a mirror. He looked around, again using magic sight. He saw the golden glow. The golden glow wouldn’t form itself into the Gorgon’s face, so maybe if he kept his magic sight up, he would only see it as a glow, not as what it was. However, keeping his magic sight going used most of his concentration, which meant he had none for killing the son of a bitch. And he wouldn’t be able to see him defined, unless he was magical as well.

“Cover the shield, worry about the guy later.” Grim breathed in and out, and flattened his palms out at his sides, aiming at the ground. He began a chant that drew ley line magic, and the power rushed to him, like in the church. He kept his eyes focused on the glow, and walked forward.

He let himself be pulled this way and that, trusting that something was guiding him around the trees that he couldn’t see. He let himself be lifted and set down, and still walked forward. He surrendered to the power like he had felt with Marcus and Stefan. He knew it would buoy him up and keep him protected.

The glow became brighter and faced right at him. Grim looked into the heart of the sun and wasn’t blinded. He worked entirely by feel, as he reached out and grabbed the glow. A man's voice came through, "What...?"

Grim backhanded something, and was satisfied when it connected with a loud crack. His hand stung. He yanked hard on the glow, but it wouldn't give. The glow's holder pulled back. Grim now hauled off and punched something. The man gurgled and slipped back, and the shield slipped off his arm.

Grim turned the shield away from him, and blinked three times. When he focused, a man in stone lay on the ground, holding his neck with one hand and holding his hand out to stop something with the other. Grim set the shield down so its front was on the forest floor. He took off his coat, and carefully pulled up the shield, draping his coat across the front.

Grim began the chant to return home, wondering if he actually killed this man or froze his soul in stone as well. He didn't want to think about it. He wanted to go home.

When he arrived in the magic room, the shield was gone, along with his coat. He sighed disgustedly. “If you wanted a coat that bad, I would have given you one,” he muttered, as he headed to the grotto.

"You snore, Master Grim."

Grim turned to Lue and smiled. "I'm suprised I didn't put my arm around you and give you a sloppy wet kiss."

Lue looked away, and Grim laughed. They had woken up an hour before landing, and Grim was drinking some coffee to assist him in waking up. The stewardess came by and asked him for his empty mug, as they were going to be landing in about fifteen minutes. They buckled in, and touched down gently.

Since they didn't have to claim any baggage, they just went through customs. Grim had purchased the tickets as a round trip, that they were going back on Friday night, in order to avoid raising any red flags. They were asked the typical questions, in English, and passed through without incident.

Grim drew a rune in front of Lue and "pushed" it at him. "Translation rune," he said, and did the same for himself. "Should last a couple of hours." Grim took out the map that Pyre had used. She wrote the name of the city on it, because the map didn't show specific cities other than Rio and Brasilia.

A taxi driver came over to them and spoke in flawless American English, "You need a ride somewhere?"

Grim turned to him. "How much to take us to Cambuci?"

The man looked thoughtful. "It's a two hour drive...it will be expensive."

"I half expect that."

He nodded to his cab. Grim and Lue followed him, and they climbed into a nice air-conditioned taxi. The two men settled in for a long ride.

Brazil didn't look that different from America, as they passed many cities with large skylines. "What brings you down here?" the cabbie asked.

Lue looked at Grim. Grim said, "We're looking for something that was stolen."

The cabbie chuckled. "Thieves went all the way to America and came back to Cambuci?"

"Something like that. What brings you here?"

The cabbie then went into a long detailed rant about his ex-wife and two children still in America, how his family disowned him and he decided to get as far away from them as he could. That took up most of an hour.

As they approached the city, the cabbie asked, "What address?"

"The city hall," Grim said.

"I don't know where that is."

"Probably the biggest building?"

"Yeah, maybe." The cab pulled into the city - which wasn't really a city, more of a town. The cab stopped at the largest building, which was actually a bank, but Grim said that was fine. Grim pulled some real out of his wallet and tried not to gasp at the exorbitant price the cabbie quoted. One Brazilian real was worth fifty cents, but that didn't make him feel any better as he forked over seven 100 real notes. The cabbie smiled at the tip, and took off.

Lue said to Grim, "Was that actual money?"

"Nope."

Lue chuckled, "What did you use?"

"Monopoly money. He's got until night time to use them before they change back. By then, we should be done."

Lue nodded, and the two of them looked out at the sleepy town. It was after 9, so people who should be at work were. They walked a little ways to a small restaurant and had something to eat. Grim set up the translation rune again, so they could overhear the conversations.

It seemed that there was a rash of business break-ins recently. This business was no exception, the waitress told them, as they had been robbed right under their noses some time after the church rush and before lunch hour on Sunday morning. Someone had cleaned out the register. Now the manager went to the register every hour and cleaned it out, keeping the money on his person. He knows it wasn't the waitresses, as they had been with him for years.

Grim and Lue looked at each other. It was, after all, a helm of invisibility, perfect for a thief.

They stepped outside into the warm air. Grim stood still, thinking.

"What is wrong, Master Grim?"

"I'm trying to think of the best way to find him. Should I do what I did with the arrows? Even if I come back to my body, he or she might move and I won't see them."

"Then we must bring him to us."

"How are we going to do that?"

"More Monopoly money, and make it noticable."

"Spend money like a drunken sailor?" He looked around. "There aren't many stores around here. And I'm not a philanthropist."

"Always a good time to start."

"Someone will curse me to high heaven when the money turns back."

So Grim sighed and walked back into the restaurant, and paid for everyone's breakfast. He went down the street a little more and stopped in a store.

It took about three hours, and much, much money passed out to children with their mother's, before they found themselves alone in the square. It was a typical town square, with a statue of a man on a horse, sword raised. The plaque discussed some distant foreign war and this man who fought in it.

Grim put the backpack next to him, still within sight. He was talking to Lue, who sat on the other side of the bench, the backpack between them. As he talked, he watched the backpack, and saw that the zipper was moving of its own volition. Grim moved his eyes to the backpack, and then Lue struck out, quick as a snake, and grabbed a hold of something.

A disembodied female voice yelled in Portuguese, "Let me go!" Lue held on tight, and Grim felt up the woman reaching her head. He yanked off the helm. It appeared in his hand, a black Greek helmet with a blood-red metal crest. The woman who appeared was no more than a young girl, about sixteen. Lue still held onto her.

"Let her go," Grim said, and Lue did. She stumbled back and ran away.

Grim stuffed the helm into the backpack, zipping it up. "We have what we need, let's go."

Lue nodded, and Grim got up, hefting the backpack over his shoulder. Grim took Lue's hand. Lue stared at him. "How are we going to teleport together otherwise?" he said with a grin.

Grim conjured the circle and enclosed them, and then imagined the anchor in the magic room and sang the spell to bring them there. Lue held on tight and closed his eyes, expecting the same sort of disorientation that Shadow gave him. He felt solid ground slip from him, and he panicked, but then felt his feet on solid ground again. He smelled the familiar scent of the magic room. He opened his eyes and looked over at Grim.

Grim turned to him with a look of shock. Lue said, "Master Grim?"

"You didn't see him?"

"See who?"

He gulped. "Hades."

"No, I didn't."

"How long did the teleport take?"

"Not very long," Lue looked at Grim, concerned.

"I saw him," he said quietly, almost like a whimper, and walked out of the room. Lue could see the backpack was empty.

Grim kicked off his sneakers as he stood at the entrance to the x-ray scanner at the airport. His carry on contained a change of clothes, a couple of paperbacks, and an iPod. Lue had pretty much the same. The two of them knew they couldn't bring weapons, so Grim had left his scythe at home. He felt naked without it, and patted his side nervously looking for it. Grim didn't think he could override the scanning machine or the x-ray machine with a glamour, so he didn't want to take the chance of bringing it. Grim passed through with a beep at his waist - the buttons to his jeans. Lue also kicked off his slip-ons and passed through the scanning machine a couple of beeps that were easily explainable and found.

The two men claimed their backpacks and headed into the terminal. "We still have about an hour. Want to eat something?"

Lue shook his head.

"Don't like flying?"

"I like it better than the teleporting."

"Yeah. We can get to know each other and exchange iPods." He glanced at the concession stands. "Well, I'm getting something."

After a cheeseburger and a small Coke, they boarded the plane. Since they had first class, they boarded after the disabled (one didn't look all that disabled, but was adamant). A couple of other people were in jeans, but most of them were in tailored suits, and a couple with a boy about 10 years old also boarded with them. Both men had a book and their iPod in hand and they stowed their carry ons above. They settled in, Grim at the window, and Lue at the aisle.

About an hour and a half later, they were in the air. Grim watched the takeoff gleefully from his window, while Lue stared straight ahead. A little while later, they each had something to drink. Lue stuck with bottled water while Grim had his regular Coke. In front of them was a TV, and Lue fiddled with it noticing that they had a multitude of channels to pick from.

"Master Grim," Lue said, "how did you learn magic, anyway?"

Grim turned to him, closing his book. "It's a long story..."

Grim's astral self knew exactly where it was going. He had remembered the map to Olympus that Hermes had given him, and shot up there. He stood before a huge marble temple, with eight columns around it. He floated inside, to see a grassy courtyard, with a stream running through it, and deer drinking from it. He floated to them, and they scattered.

"As long as I don't catch her bathing, I should be fine," he muttered, and floated further into the temple. He saw a greyhound and it came right up to him. He let it sniff his hand, and then the dog looked up at him with eyes that showed intelligence. Grim wondered if it was a man that Artemis changed into a greyhound.

"Yes," said a voice off to the side. Stepping out from behind a column was a beautiful woman in a long blue dress, with long dark hair. Grim didn't think it was Artemis.

"No," she said with a smile, "I am not Artemis."

"I am sorry, my lady," Grim said and bowed, averting his eyes. "I don't know who you are."

"I am Hecate." She didn't move from the spot. The greyhound went to her. "You come looking for Lady Artemis?"

"To see if she has her arrows, that's all. I put them away--"

"She has them."

"Oh." He looked around the temple. "I guess I'll be going, then."

Hecate nodded, and turned away. "You will know us all eventually, psychopomp."

Grim floated out of the temple and looked at it from a distance. "I wonder if I can find Stefan while I'm here." Olympus was a part of heaven, just like Hades was a part of "hell". Kiko had explained it perfectly, that there were many realms where spirits could go, spirits that would be comfortable in their endings. Olympus was in the "good" neighborhood.

He thought about where Stefan might be, and he saw a gold light in the distance. He flew to it, through fog and clouds, and found himself at a wall, facing what looked like an abyss. Stefan was manning that wall, flying along it. Grim's heart leapt.

"Stefan," Grim called, and the angel stopped mid-flight.

"Michael!" Stefan flew to him, and they embraced in the air. Grim could feel him against him, smell his clean scent. Grim thought he could feel the kiss that Stefan gave him. "I need to patrol the wall--"

"I've missed you so much."

Stefan tilted his head, smiled wanly, and caressed Grim's jaw. "I've missed you too."

Stefan and Grim were oblivious to two angels that flew up in the air a few yards behind them. One wore a scarlet cape and drew a sword, while another wore a light blue tunic and put his hand on the other's sword arm. Stefan took Grim's hand and flew to the edge of the wall, and lit down. They embraced again.

Archangel Michael glared at Archangel Uriel who held his sword arm. "The Seraphim is tainted and distracted. He will remove that ring and he will be no longer in love."

"I don't think that will do it," Uriel said. "We were meant to love man, were we not?"

Michael said nothing, as he watched the two figures in the distance. "Romantics," he spat, and flew away. Uriel grinned, and sent a message to Stefan that he would watch the wall for him while the two reunite temporarily.

When Grim woke up, he felt angel wings brush his face.

Grim couldn’t read Chinese, and he was lucky he could focus on anything at the moment after being burped out of the Void. Lue looked at the sign on the side of the road and said, “It says Huangtu’an.” Grim looked back at Shadow, who stood in his human form. He shrugged, a very human reaction.

Lue continued, “Maybe Hwang Chung doesn’t exist any more and they changed the name. That happened a lot during the Revolution, and those maps you were using were old.”

Grim nodded. “Well, maybe they’re here. Let’s go see.”

The village wasn’t really a village, as they could see high-rises sprouting in the skyline. “I don’t know how I can do this without a map,” Grim said.

“Have you ever tried to sense it?”

“I can help you,” Shadow said.

Grim raised an eyebrow, and looked at him curiously. “How?”

“Amplify your power.”

“Like Kalius?”

“Yes.” Shadow looked thoughtful. “But it could kill you.”

Grim threw his hands up in frustration. “We’ll fly – well, you jump, Lue – and I’ll see if I can get a sense of things.”

Grim flew up. He knew, somehow, that he was going to get the arrows, but the details were fuzzy. He landed on the tiled black roof of a house, and Lue and Shadow joined him. “Okay, let me see what I can do…” Grim sat down on the roof.
He pictured the arrows as he had made them, silver with false-feather crests and slightly blunted tips. He had the arrow perfectly in mind, and then reached out with his spirit self to find it. He ignored the souls that buffeted him, and concentrated on feeling for the divine.

He saw two glows, one brighter than the other, and he went toward the brighter one. He noted the house, and counted eight living souls there. Then he went to the lighter one. That one was a store, with two living souls. It looked to him like a typical pawn shop.

His spirit self returned to his body, and Grim took a deep breath and fought back the headache that was going to split his mind in two with pain. He looked at Lue. “Got it. But I think we’re going to have to ask for it this time.”

They lit down onto the street and walked the five blocks to the house first. They were stared at as they walked, but Grim paid it no mind. They stood outside a small pagoda-looking house. Grim rang the doorbell.

An older woman came to the door, and Lue spoke to her in a gentle voice. The woman looked curiously at them, and allowed them in. Grim looked at him. “What did you tell her?”

“I said they have something that belongs to us.”

A young man came out from another room, dressed in a wifebeater shirt and jeans. He looked like a punk. Lue spoke to him, a little more firmly. The young man looked defiantly at him and snapped something back. Shadow moved forward, “He’s saying he doesn’t have it, but I sense the energy here.”

“He’s pulling the ‘You’re not cops’ line,” Lue said.

“No, we’re heroes.” Grim shoved by the man and walked down the small corridor. He ignored the protesting man, and walked right into a room, where a little girl was sleeping on a cot. He reached up and pushed aside a drop-ceiling tile, and then pulled down the quiver of silver arrows.

He could hear the woman gasp, and the young man was now shouting, while the little girl rubbed her eyes as she was woken up out of sleep. Grim gave the young man a glare, then shoved by him again, and stormed out of the house. He hefted the quiver over his shoulder and started walking down the street, not caring if Lue or Shadow were behind him.

He had had it. His anger was palatable as he walked into the pawn shop. He drew a translation rune in the air and demanded, “You bought a silver arrow. I want it.”
The two fat men just stared at Grim. The door opened and Lue and Shadow were following him in. “Master Grim—“

“Give me the silver arrow or I will destroy this place a little bit at a time.”

One began, “I’m not sure what you’re—“

Grim raised a hand and drew a rune of force. He threw it at the fat man who spoke, throwing him against the glass case that held the more expensive items. He stayed pinned down in the glass. He turned to the other man. “The silver arrow. Please.”

The man turned and ran into the back room. He returned about a minute later with a silver arrow, and handed it to him just as the door burst open and policemen stormed in.

“Shadow—“

But before the second syllable left his lips, he found he was already back in the magic room, the quiver still on his back, and the arrow in his hand.

Grim felt the yank of a teleport that almost tore apart his stomach, and his next moment of awareness was that he was in the middle of a square, with a fountain nearby. People stopped and almost ran away from them.

Grim also jerked back. "Nice, Shadow, real nice. Next time drop us off in the middle of the god damn street, why don't you."

Shadow said nothing. Grim shook his head and looked around in the bright sunshine. At least Shadow appeared as a human here - Grim didn't want to imagine him appearing as his normal "demon" spirit guise. Lue looked green, even with his glamour.

"We need to find a place with a map of the city," Grim said.

"There is a convenience store over there. Let's check."

Lue led them across the street to a small store. "Wait right here."

Grim felt self-conscious, being the only American in the area. Shadow shimmered in the sunlight. Lue came out, bearing a brochure. "Here is a map of downtown."

Grim nodded, and opened up the map. He closed his eyes and centered, and let his hand drift across the paper. It drifted up, and off the paper. "It's not downtown."

Lue frowned. "That was the only map they had. Maybe if we move closer to the airport, they will have better maps."

"The airport is that way," Grim said, pointing on the map and looking in the distance. Then the square disappeared, and he found himself close to a dumpster behind a building.

"GODDAMIT, SHADOW, WARN US NEXT TIME!"

"Sorry," Shadow said. Lue also looked shaky - he had landed in a puddle of water. At least Grim hoped it was water. Grim waited for Lue to regain his composure, and then they all walked around the building. They found themselves facing a very busy but clean street, close enough to the airport to see planes flying in. They were right behind another convenience store. Lue went in, and the two men hung outside. In moments, Lue returned smiling with a booklet. "A street map of Bangkok and its surrounding areas."

"Great." There was a bench nearby, so the three men went to it. Grim hovered his hand over the book, turned pages. Then, he pointed at a spot. "Here."

He fell off the bench, to land onto concrete. Lue stumbled, because he was leaning on the back of the bench. "Jesus FUCKING Christ, Shadow!"

"Sorry," he said again. Grim got up, dusting his butt off. Grim looked up a fire escape. "It's right up there."

"So do we just go in and ask for it?" Lue said.

"What're you kidding?"

Lue grinned. Grim flew up, while Lue leaped up to the second floor fire escape. It led into a bedroom, but no one was in it. Grim peered inside, and saw the spear resting nonchalantly against the wall near the bedroom door. He drew a rune to open the window, and Lue and Grim slipped inside. Shadow hovered outside. Grim could hear voices in the room beyond. They crept across the room and just as Grim reached the spear, the door opened.

A woman looked directly at him, speechless. He grabbed the spear, smiled and said, "Hi."

She started screaming.

"Shadow, teleport out now!"

Grim ran back to the window as a man appeared behind the woman. The man shoved the woman aside and went at Grim and the spear. He tackled Grim onto the bed, and Lue jumped onto him, a spike erupting from his hand to pierce the man. The woman screamed again, and the man was yelling something to her.

"Shadow, teleport dammit!"

"Not with him!" Lue said, trying to pull the man off Grim. But then Grim felt pain as he fell face first onto grass.

Without the spear.

Grim awoke, moaned and moved, and the map lying on his chest slipped to the floor. He didn’t have to fall that much further, as he was still on the floor in the center of the magic room.

Maps were spread out everywhere, maps of cities of the world that he was able to scrounge in the library. Some were dated back to pre-Vietnam and still had the markings for East Germany. He looked at the world map that had fallen off his chest. It had three circles marked on the world map, and they were so far away from each other. He had at least found the spear – in Thailand. The arrow was in China, and he had found the Helm in Brazil just moments before passing out.

“I could use a coffee,” he moaned.

“I heard that,” said a voice, and Grim looked over to the door and saw Jack there with a tray in his hands. “You look like you need some.”

“Your coffee?” Grim gave him a look of mock horror. “Gimme.”

Jack chuckled and Grim got up, meeting Jack half way. “What’re you doing down here?” He took the milk and sugar and made it to his liking.

“Raina wanted breakfast.”

“Got anything left?”

He gave him a look. “This is Raina we’re talking about.”

Grim chuckled, “Ha, yeah, right.” He sipped the coffee. “Leaving soon?”

“Yeah, really soon.”

Grim nodded. “As soon as I find the shield, I’ll be off, too.”

“Alone?”

“I’ll be fine.” He looked at Jack. “I wouldn’t ask the team to get involved in my issues.”

“Mike, we’d help you, you know we would.”

Grim shook his head. “I don’t want to pull a LeBeau, you know?”

Jack tilted his head and regarded him. “This is different.”

“Yeah, these are gods, which makes it even worse.” He drank the coffee. “I know Raina is like, ‘Gods, pfft’ but I have a lot of respect for them. They do things for me, and I don’t want to see them angry at me. Besides, I work for one.”

Jack sighed. “Remember that there’s people who would help you. Pyre, Mareo, Mark and Petite, and even probably LeBeau and his motley crew.”

Grim suddenly went pale, and handed the coffee back to Jack. “Thanks for that, I need to get back to work.”

“What’s wrong?”

“On Judgment Day, Gabriel came over and quoted the Bible to me, Luke 17:3. ‘So watch yourselves. If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, 'I repent,' forgive him.’ “

Jack said nothing, and Grim turned to the circle. “Hope you guys like roller coaster rides, because between them and me, this is going to be a doosy.”

“Mike, it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Grim walked down to the circle. “We’ll see. Thanks, Jack. I’ll let you know when I leave.”

Jack watched Grim sit down and then turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Gods never sleep, but they get distracted.

Ares picked up his spear and wondered who he would use in Fallujah to do his dirty work. It had been a while since he’d smelled burning flesh, so he thought a car bomb would be perfect for this. He shifted his form into that of a typical Iraqi soldier, gun at the ready. He walked over to a young man, a freedom fighter, and put it into his head that maybe that car right over there would be ripe for a car bomb.

The young man thought it was a great idea, and went to his leader and got the parts for the bomb. When he returned an hour later, the car and the soldier were still there. He broke in easily, tossing the C-4 in the passenger seat. Then the young man got into the car and drove away.

Ares smiled, and followed. As he was stopped in traffic, Ares thought this would be a great place to have the bomb go off. He raised his spear, aiming it at the passenger side door. He threw it, knowing it would easily pierce the metal and hit the C-4 inside.

The spear hit the door and exploded like glass.

Ares stared at what had happened. The young man broke free from traffic and continued on his way. He was heading to the Green Zone, but that didn’t put him in a better frame of mind. Still as an Iraqi soldier, he walked into the middle of the street, getting honked at by horns but being driven around, and looked to see if there was anything left of his spear. Bits glittered on the street, bits of magic.

Mortal magic.

Athena grabbed her spear and shield and laughed at her companion, Nike. “I would spar with you again.”

“You could spar with Eris.”

“She cheats.”

Nike also laughed, holding her own spear and shield loosely, and they went to the sparring area of Olympus.

“What about Herakles? He’s always good to watch.”

“You want to see him in the lion’s pelt.”

“That too.”

Athena took a simple battle position. “Have at me!”

Nike looked side to side, and thrust once with the spear. Athena moved to block it with her shield.

The shield shattered like glass, and the spear went through it, hitting her armor and deflecting off it.

“What…?” Athena stared at the floating bits of light that settled down on the floor of the sparring grounds. Nike put her hand to her mouth in shock. Athena’s brow furrowed in anger, and Nike knew better than to stay in the same area.

Athena stormed to her father, where she saw Artemis also there with Hecate. Athena bowed to Zeus and nodded to her half-sister.

“What are you missing?” Zeus asked Athena.

“My shield, my lord father.”

“There can, of course, be only one who could do this.”

Artemis and Athena said at the same time, “Hermes.”

Zeus sighed. “It seems, fair Athena, that Hecate has noted who created these imitations.”

Hecate nodded. “His magical name is Grimaulkin. He’s a mortal magician. A very good one.”

“Where is Hermes?” asked Athena.

Zeus gave her a look. “Where do you think? Hiding.”

Athena looked exasperated. Artemis glanced at her. “We know who made them—“

Ares thundered into the room. “He will find them.”

Athena looked at him. “How?”

“Because I told him to.” Ares glowered. “I took away my blessings from his beloved. He’ll do anything for him.”

Athena said, “Why did you do that?”

“Because I can’t do anything to him, he’s protected by a seraphim.”

“So you’re taking it out on your champion. Brilliant as always, Ares.”

“I want my spear back.”

“Holding a man hostage won’t bring it back any faster!”

“Cease,” said Zeus, his voice rumbling. “This Grimaulkin is a servant of Hades. His fate is already sealed and you are not going to cut it short, Ares.”

He raised his head defiantly. “I can do what I want to my champions, though.”

Athena turned away, muttering. “The horse bites you so you kick the dog,” Hecate said, shaking her head at Ares.

“Hermes can disappear for years,” Athena said.

“Then we must use the mortal.” Zeus looked to Athena. “You will go to Grimaulkin and assist him. Give him your blessings until this is over.”

“I will help too,” Hecate said, stepping forward. “He’s a mage.”

“He has magical help,” said Zeus. “He has many friends who can help him with that.”

Athena asked, “What is missing?”

“Some of Artemis’ arrows, your shield, Ares’ spear, and my brother Hades’ helm.”

Athena nodded. “I will give him wisdom and foresight.”

“He will see his own future, Athena.”

“Yes, my lord father.”

“Go and mend the rift Ares caused.” Zeus looked at Ares who, at first stood defiant, then backed down slowly.

Hecate stepped forward. “Wait, Bright-Eyes, I will walk with you and tell you about him.”

Athena went to go put on her armor, and listened to Hecate tell of Hades' newest servant.

Grim got hit over the head with the wooden sword again.

Kalius waited for Grim to get back into position. Grim shook his head to clear it. “There must be a spell to learn sword fighting.”

"There would be no fun in that." Kalius grinned.

“You like to kick my ass, and you know it."

Kalius merely chuckled and turned from him to toss a water bottle to him. Grim was able to catch it easily. He set down the sickle, which changed into its usual silver dagger. “How can anybody fight with this thing?”

“It’s not meant for fighting, Grim. It’s meant for harvesting.”

“Well, I should learn how to use it as a weapon.”

“Speaking of weapons…” came a voice from the door.

Grim and Kalius turned in unison to regard the blond man at the door. Dressed in a simple white tunica, Grim knew exactly who he was. He took one step, and was inside the ring with them. He smiled at Kalius, “Greetings, Ares’ Bulldog.”

Kalius glowered, and his armor appeared, along with the sword, which he held at the ready.

“Easy, Rover,” the blond man said. “All you Ares types, temper, temper.”

Grim reached out instinctively to guide Hermes away and put a hand on his arm. The feeling Grim suddenly got was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed – he knew how to pick locks. He felt he could run like a gazelle. He knew the ways to Olympus and Hades, how to unlock the gates, the paths through the dreamscape, and the utterances of command. He felt suddenly lucky and with a sense of wanderlust and thought he could change shapes – all at once.

Hermes slowly disengaged Grim, and almost everything he had felt slipped his mind, except the paths to Olympus and Hades, through dreams and travel. Grim stared up at Hermes, not realizing he had fallen flat on the floor and Kalius was kneeling over him. Grim looked at Kalius, blinking, and said, “It was a message.”

“What was a message?”

"Ares cares for his warriors.”

“What?” Kalius sat back.

Hermes folded his arms over his chest. “I would have let him figure it out.”

Grim blinked, and everything he was going to say fled from his mind. "Nothing, nothing." He shook his head at Kalius.

Kalius looked up at Hermes. “And what do you want?”

“To collect my payment.”

Grim stood up slowly. “You said a couple of months. I'm not done."

“Give me what you have.”

Grim climbed over the fence. "I'll be right back," he said to Kalius.

"I'm going with you." Kalius followed Hermes, keeping a close eye on him. They went into the magic room, and Grim pulled out some items from the endless magical chest put there.

Hermes watched as a quiver of arrows, a spear, a helm, and a shield - all made of bronze. Hermes smiled. "This is good enough," he said, and picked up one of the spears. "Excellent work."

"Yeah, thanks." Grim had tried to keep his signature off of them, knowing that whatever Hermes had planned, it couldn't be good. He hoped that the gods wouldn't know who made these things and wouldn't go hunting him.

Hermes waved his hands and the items disappeared. "Your enemy is in the deepest pits of Hades, as you asked."

"Thank you," Grim said.

Hermes motioned to the dagger at Grim's belt. "You plan on using that as a weapon?"

"I might as well, since I carry it."

"Lord Hades would find that amusing. You have noted my gift?"

He nodded once. Kalius stared at him. "What gift?"

"I know the way to Olympus and Hades," Grim said quietly.

"Heaven and hell, and everywhere between. You are the Mapquest of the universe."

Grim actually started to laugh at the look on Hermes' face, as he had delivered the line in a total deadpan. Hermes smiled, took another step, and disappeared.

Kalius looked at the area the weapons had been. "Something tells me this isn't going to end well."

Dmitrius heard the footfalls as he fed. He had been at this long enough to not be totally enraptured with the Kiss, but to still pay attention to his surroundings. The footfalls were light, a dancer's movement. He licked the wound closed but kept his head bent over the Warrior he claimed. Then he moved like the wind, appearing behind the approaching woman.

She shrieked, as Dmitrius stood still, waiting for her move. She was a wraith of a neonate, so new as to be at least 30 or 40 years dead. She consciously made herself breathe, a waste of thought as far as Dmitrius was concerned. He no longer bothered. He breathed enough to speak.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded.

"You're the Elder who came to Court," she said, turning around to look up at him.

"You didn't answer my question." His hand flashed out and grabbed her by the upper arm, holding her in a tight grip of stone wrapped around flesh.

"They call me Revant. I wanted to see if you were real."

He removed his hand and studied her.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you." She motioned to the prone Warrior. Dmitrius hadn't put the teleporter on him to send him to the Zig.

"Finish him if you wish," he said.

She looked up at him adoringly and ran to the prone body. She finished him quickly, draining him totally dry. Dmitrius kept an eye out, to make sure they weren't disturbed. She got up, wiping her lips, and again looked up at Dmitrius in awe. He wondered fleetingly if her curse was adoration.

"So, I am real. Is that all you require?"

"I stopped Leander from attacking you when you came to Court."

He remembered, the young man who came at him in Elysium. He couldn't tell clans from sight, but he assumed he was Brujah. He couldn't quite tell what clan this woman hailed from, and he thought it was impolite to ask.

"You expect that I should owe you?"

She blushed - a waste of blood, Dmitrius thought. "No, no, I...I don't know what to expect."

He regarded her. "Revant. I am not a rock star, nor am I a powerful god, nor am I here to lay waste to you and yours. I am here because something I care deeply for is here as well, and I won't leave it."

"What is it?"

"If I wanted you to know, I would tell you." He started walking away.

"Wait!"

He turned to see her kneeling. "Please, I want to be your servant."

He made the human motion of sighing. He went back to her and barked, "Get up."

"I'll be Blood Bonded if you want!"

"I don't need or want a servant."

"Please! I'm begging you!"

Dmitrius shook his head and walked away, and then he stopped a short way beyond. If she knew what he was, what would stop...

He shook his head again. No, he won't worry about them, but he would tell Kalius. He didn't think they would travel to ancient Rome looking for him, but one never knew.

Grim locked the door to the magic room, and turned slowly to face the chest. It looked like a simple Circle of Thorns chest, no glowing, buzzing, humming, or strange runes on it. He went over to it and lifted its lid. They didn't even lock it.

Inside were about twenty tear drop shaped glass vials, about a foot long each, of different hues and colors. He thought he could see some of them have items swirling in them, but if he focused on them, they just were a different color. He could see his, a dark navy blue with dark gold swirls. He took it and held it up. Inside was liquid which swished around when he moved the vial back and forth.

They took it out through his ear, and he didn't know if he could - or should - stick it in his ear and pour it back. He went to Pyre's grimoire, and put his hand on a blank page to see what answers it would give. Ingest, imbibe, inject.

Grim looked at the vial. "Well, bottom's up." He put his mouth on the tip and tilted the vial up. The liquid was warm on his tongue, tasting like warm, but slightly thick, water. He drank it all, feeling the warmth go down his throat to his stomach. He waited.

The vial changed color, back to a clear glass, then started cracking. It fell apart in his hand. At the same time, he felt warmth, pleasant and gentle, like a blanket covering his nerves and body, bringing him peace, and strength, and memory. The knowledge of the runes came back immediately, and he laughed at the simplicity of them.

Still filled with that peaceful feeling, he turned again to the chest. He sat down in front of it and pulled out the vials one by one. The ones that he thought had items actually did, like a bird in one, and a flowering rose in another. All had markings in corrupted Theban, that looked like names or parts of names. The symbols were written in different hands, different styles, but the same corrupted language. He guessed that a higher mage had his acolytes do the work - was there someone in that lair that this chest belonged to?

"Oh well," Grim said, and started putting some of them back. He stopped, staring at one, silver with black lines twining through it, and the letters SKL in Theban etched on it. He peered inside it, but couldn't see beyond the silver glass. Grim put the rest back, but kept this one out.

The warmth had faded, but the knowledge, luckily, had not. Mage curiosity got the better of him. "All I need to do is the same thing," he said to himself. To be sure, he went into the magic circle with it and called a protective circle. He sniffed the opening of the vial - it smelled of anise. He could stand that.

He tipped the vial into his mouth and it tasted horrible, like mud and mint, hot pepper and candle wax. He forced it down, all of it, and waited for the warmth to fill him. Again, the glass became clear, and shattered in his hand.

Nothing happened at first. "Well, that--"

I AM SKYLITE!

Grim fell to his knees as his persona slipped away, and he thought for a fleeting moment that he was Skylite, Heroic Mage of Mirrors and Glass, real name Cassandra Dawn, married to the hero Flightpath, with three daughters--

NO. Grim dragged himself back into the forefront of his mind. He didn't realize that he was curled up on the floor, his body contracted in spasms. I am Michael LeBonte, Grimaulkin, I know runes, I'm loved by Stefan--

SKYLITE! Each personae fought for dominance. He saw memories of Skylite, her long (fake) red hair cascading forward as she cast a spell along the glass, drawing images out from them that became solid and real. He saw her memories of her daughters, how she trained them in magic with her husband watching, amused, and the love that they shared...

GRIMAULKIN! Roughly, he shoved her memories and essence aside in his mind. What remained was her spellwork. He took all that in, absorbing it into his own psyche. He coldly and calmly detatched her persona from the spellwork, like taking color out of a picture. Her persona, being slowly dismantled, tried to constantly reform, her voice and essence getting smaller and smaller. Finally, he savagely used runes of destruction upon the persona remaining. It shattered in a million pieces, like the glass he was rolling in.

He came back to himself, breathing hard. He hurt everywhere, inside and out. He waited, unfocusing, not wanting to go traipsing in his mind again. He didn't know how long he lay there, breathing, his eyes closed. The pain subsided until it was a dull ache, and he pulled himself out of the fetal position. He took a deep, deep breath, causing another ache.

He sat up. The barrier of the circle remained, the door to the room still locked. He wanted to lie right back down. He crawled to the edge of the circle and banished it, then lay face-first on the floor. Rest a little more...

Finally he felt like he could move. He got up, and climbed out of the circle in the floor. He stood on shaking legs, and looked for the glass on the floor. It had turned into piles of dust.

Mage of Mirrors and Glass, he thought, and called up the spells in his mind. A warmth filled his chest, power ready to be used. He looked down at his chest, and it glowed with a silvery-grey light. The glow flowed down his arm to his right hand, his projective hand. He uttered a spell, and a small glass orb, the size of a golf ball, formed in his hand. Gold swirlings covered it, constantly shifting.

Gods, he had a headache. He brought the ball to the magical chest and placed it inside it. As soon as he did, though, it turned to dust.

He suffered through the headache, and left the magic room. As he did, he went through the spells, of the things that he could do now. According to Skylite's beliefs, anything glass or a mirror had imprinted on it the images of whatever passed on them or through them. She could view the images in glass or the mirror.  She could also create an image in the glass, and pull those out as illusions. This extended to any reflective surface, including water, computer screens, and TV screens. She could also tint the glass darker or lighter at a touch.

However, he lost concentration when he saw Pyre, and saw that she wanted to apologize...

Grim knew he was tied up because he tried to bring his hand to his head. And he was cold, so he knew he had been stripped of his armor. Okay, think, think, think...it was you and Pyre, you finished off the mages, and then suddenly you felt totally drained so you sat down for a second, and you closed your eyes for just a second, and now you're...

He opened his eyes. The cave he was in cast and eerie blue light, and he could see things around him. Nothing was in his room. He smelled the heavy Envoy incense in the air, incense that was typically used by the Circle.

"Shit." He tried to move his hands, but they were smart, these Circle, binding his hands so that his index and middle finger were bound together, and the ring and pinky were bound also, so that he couldn't create runes or cast spells behind his back. He thought he heard movement, and saw a thorn acolyte peek over the hole in the floor.

"Hey, what's a guy gotta do to get some coffee around here?"

The acolyte ducked back below. Grim looked around and started singing Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of his lungs.

He got to the first chorus when he saw the Madness Mage cresting over the entrance way to the room. Following him was a man in red and yellow robes and markings. The Madness Mage immediately sent out an attack, but Grim was ready for it, and flared a rune in his mind to block it.

The Sealer in red looked at Grim casually. "Tell me what you know of the Strategist and the Vessel."

"The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle, the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true."

They stared at him, and the Madness Mage tried to force his way through, but Grim gave him some porno for his trouble. The Sealer conjured a ball of flame. "You will tell us."

"What do you want to know?"

"What are his plans?"

"He's thinking of growing a little garden in Atlas Park, way in the northwest corner. He'll have zucchini, lots and lots of zucchini."

The Sealer approached with the flame, holding it very close to Grim's face so that he could feel the heat. Grim refused to flinch from it, and stared steadily into the glowing green eyes. "You will tell us," he said.

"Or you'll set me on fire? Been there, done that. Doesn't hurt anymore."

The Sealer pressed the fire into Grim's shoulder. Burning flesh filled his nostrils, and Grim refused to show any pain, but it hurt like hell. He closed his eyes and swallowed the screams of agony that came to his throat. He involuntarily let out a suppressed cry. The pain traveled along his shoulder to his arm, and then the agony was too much.

"Stop, stop!"

The Sealer kept his hand on Grim's upper arm near the shoulder. "What are his plans?"

"To take over the world!"

"And the vessel's?"

"Her too!"

The Sealer removed his hand, and Grim slumped against his bonds. Raina's blood healed him, albeit slowly, but the pain was still there. The Sealer regarded Grim. "I will be back." He looked at the Madness Mage. "In the meantime, do what you had planned to do, it will make things easier."

The Madness Mage nodded, and grinned at Grim. "Welcome back to the fold, Initiate," he said. Grim watched the Sealer walk away, then slowly turned his gaze on the Mage.

"Ha, fuck you."

The Madness Mage laughed. "Thought you'd say that, but that's okay. We have plans for you."

"Everybody's got plans. Whatever happened to spontaneity?"

The Mage motioned with his hand, and an acolyte appeared with a small box. He opened the box and took out a clear glass thing that looked like an AquaGlobe, a teardrop shaped item that had a long stem. The Mage smiled and set the tip of it against his ear. Grim tried to jerk back but someone else held his head still. The Mage grinned at Grim, and then shoved the tip in further. Grim screamed at the pain, feeling that tip seemingly pierce his brain.

The rune blocking the Madness Mage faded away and disappeared. Grim searched for another one in his mind, grabbed a hold of it, but felt it slip away. He tried to find spells, but caught only pieces before those too slipped away. He searched through the agony, pain-blocking runes, offensive runes, wards, spells, anything...nothing stuck. Then, there was nothing in that part of his memory. Languages, gone. Spells, gone. Runes...gone.

Slowly, the pain in his ear dwindled and he opened his eyes to see the acolyte put the glass teardrop back. It was colored a dark blue, and he could see symbols in brighter colors swimming in the round part of the teardrop. The Mage smiled. "This will be useful." He looked up at Grim. "So, come back to the fold?"

"Hell, no."

The Madness Mage filled his mind with horror, but Grim had seen this stuff before and it did nothing to him. "You can do better than that, can't you?" Grim said mockingly.

The Madness Mage walked away, "Maybe not me, but there's a whole line of us to get to you." He chuckled darkly, and walked down the ramp and out of the room.

Grim cast his head back and started building the stronghold of memories that Jack had taught him.

Dmitrius Acheron (Dimitrius updated)

Clan: Brujah Generation: 6 Nature: Defender
Demeanor: Defender

Blood: 30 Morality: Humanity Aura: +3
Willpower: 15 Morality Traits: 4 Self-Control: 4
Conscience/Conviction: 6 Courage: 4

Physical Traits:
Agile
Brutal X2
Dexterous X2
Enduring X2
Quick
Stalwart X2
Tireless: X3
Tough: X3
Vigerous X2
Wiry

Mental Traits:
Alert X2
Clever
Creative
Cunning X2
Disciplined X4
Knowledgeable X3
Observant X2
Patient X4
Vigilant

Social Traits:
Alluring X2
Charismatic X2
Commanding
Dignified
Eloquent X3
Intimidating X4


Abilities:
Academics X6 Doctorate in History, English, Masters in Political Science.
Animal Ken
Athletics X3
Awareness X2
Brawl X7
Computer X2
Dodge: X7
Drive: X3
Etiquette
Expression X2
Finance X3
Firearms X2
Intimidation X5
Linguistics X7 (Greek, Latin, Egyptian, English, French, Spanish, Arabic)
Law
Melee X8
Occult X3
Security X2
Survival X3

Disciplines:
Celerity: Alacrity
Celerity: Swiftness
Celerity: Rapidity
Potence: Prowess
Potence: Might
Potence: Vigor
Potence: Intensity
Fortitude: Endurance
Fortitude: Mettle
Fortitude: Resilience
Fortitude: Resistance
Fortitude: Aegis
Obfuscate: Cloak of Shadows
Presence: Awe
Presence: Dread Gaze
Protean: Eyes of the Beast
Protean: Feral Claws
Protean: Earth Meld
Animalism: Feral Whispers


Backgrounds:
Allies X3
Resources X5

Influences
Finance

Merits:
Ambidextrous
Iron Will
True Love

Flaws:
Enemy (Assamites, Sabbat)
Touch of Frost