A Scripta

Okay, so the Chum Bucket was filled with mostly gamblers out for a quick fix of their addiction during their lunch hour, but the place served the best greasy clam rolls this side of Nerva. The cook behind the counter carried more scars on his face than the railroad map of Chicago, and he brokered no arguments from any of the patrons at the counter. Not that anyone ever gave him any lip, because he was a damn good cook.

Someone sat next to Grim as he finished up his tartar sauce with his fries. So he was a sick man and liked to dip his fries in mayonnaise. "Hail, Mage," said a woman's voice.

He turned expecting to see Harmonia. Instead he saw a non-descript urchin of a woman who looked like she had been beaten earlier in the day. Her hair fell out of a ragged pony tail, and she wore a simple faded purple sweatshirt and jeans. Her eyes were blue as sapphires, though, bright in a blackened dirty face. It took him a minute to realize he was being addressed in Greek.

"Hail, 'Armonia," he replied, because that was the voice who spoke to him.

"I need to ask of you some favors."

"Some favors? At least you're honest."

"Do you love the Champion of Ares?"

He regarded her. "Yes, I do," he said.

"Will you do anything for him?"

"No, obviously not," he said. "I won't be his and his alone."

"Anything else?"

"What are you getting at?"

She took a deep breath. "Can you use your dark powers for good?"

"I was a hero with them before, yeah."

"No, use them for good. You were not a hero - you did it to make your demoness angry. Can you use them to help people?"

"Sure, I did it before...Sort of."

"Will you do it again?"

"Why?" He regarded her.

She looked up at him. "If you wish to help stave off Hades from the Champion of Ares, he wishes you to be his servant."

Grim turned from her, and reached for his coke. He sipped it until the straw slurped. "I thought I was supposed to be God's servant. Redeemed and all that shit."

"He seems to think you can be both."

"Is that possible?"

"Only by God's will."

He put the cup down. "Then you can tell him I already am. Might as well get some credit for what I've been doing these last four hours."

"He is the Lord of Death, Mage, not the Lord of Evil."

"Like I said, I already am." He took out something from his pocket and held it up in the light. It was a thick, fat index finger. He put it back. "I don't do what I do for evil. I do it for protection. Plus it looks really impressive."

"Then I ask another favor. Please come home. The Champion loves you."

Grim remembered Kalius' look in his eyes when he left him. They were full of pain and abandonment, the same look Stefan had given him a while ago. He looked down at his bag.

"He also defended you to Raina and Jack. He spoke of the technomancers and he is of the same agreement as you. You are not alone, Mage."

"Him, and Stefan, and Rusty. Jack was, but he has to defend them now. Why, I still don't know. Maybe even Mark."

"It is because of the children--"

He slammed his fist on the counter and yelled at her in English, "You know what? I'm sick and fucking tired of hearing about 'it's for the children'. If it was just Jack and Raina's babies, I wouldn't have a problem with it. But these fucking bastards have to stick their fucking noses in a god damn fetus! And Jack and Raina go running to them for help, when we could have figured it out ourselves. They're the ones that fucking started this shit! They're the enemy! We could have handled them. And we're now supposed to kowtow to them because they're involved? They're like the kids' uncles?" He grabbed his bag. "They promised they would be gone by the turn of the tide three days ago. They lied. AGAIN. And made things worse. AGAIN." He looked at her. "I won't play their stupid games and I sure won't play follow the leader to LeBeau." He started to walk out.

"What about Kalius, and Stefan? They need you."

He stopped. It was the first time she had called them by their names. He turned around slowly and could see pain in those sapphire eyes, they reminded him of Kalius and Stefan. He sighed. "Fine, I'll go back. But maybe you should call me Uriel."