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Locations, NYC and the Red Devil.

Time. Late Morning

Three Months, yeah, jolly good time that. Despite being utterly grounded for life which I somehow got out of, my Aunt has been less than thrilled I took up Vigilantism; doesn’t mean she bloody disapproves of it just she’s in a middle ground area. Even I had troubles adjusting to Ghosts and Magic, and she has me. A nearly eighteen year old, well in five months time, October 29 to be exact. Seeing Aunt Briley reel back from the news that [b]I[/b] was a descendant of King Arthur, and had a magical blade of legends just laying in my closet the whole time; after nearly dying at the Museum that is. Was all it took for her to enter Overlord status. Dickens on the other hand has made himself comfortably at home, Aunt Briley actually likes the little bugger; why I’ll never understand. 

And forget the fact he eats a ton of food, thankfully he eats pretty much anything biodegradable, food waste, banana peels, rotten fish. You name it he’ll eat it, though he has a preference to moving prey. Doesn’t much mind anything else, seems to enjoy eating whatever comes his way. He’ll do his little tail wagging dance when he thinks it’s dinner time which both of us find cute. I’m starting to think the only reason Aunt Briley lets him stay is because she thinks he helps me cope.

[b]Me[/b]. Well it’s breakfast time again. Yup, future King of Britain sitting down with eggs, bacon and big fluffy pancakes. After this, I don’t know. Aunt Briley is still reluctant on this [b]Hero[/b] thing, me going out to ‘patrol’ as it were. Merlin is off doing her own thing and at some point I need to go to that Red Devil place; just what I need more magic. 

“Eva?” Briley’s voice called out. “You keep staring off into space and Dickens will suck down your food again. And you.” Briley turned to Dickens. “Off the table. But keep Eva safe out there will you?” With an odd honk squeal noise which I’ll probably never be able to pin down he somehow conveyed to my Aunt that he would. At least I think he did. Dickens walked off towards his own food bowl as [b]I[/b] sat here finishing my breakfast. 

Once done, I set my plate in the sink after scraping off what I could. [color=00aeef]"I’ll be off Aunt Briley.”[/color] She stared me down for a second, then reluctantly spoke. “Fine. But I want you home by eight tonight.”


With a hoodie and a super mask, not much more than a simple cloth piece covering my face I headed out. Looking for a plain brick wall where no one would bother me, so that I could scribe these directions in peace. Plus I doubt it would leave a good impression if I entered a magical den in the middle of a busy street. 

The doorway of sorts appeared, and as Eva passed through it she was momentarily blinded as her eyes readjusted.

Beyond the mystic door lie The Red Devil, a genuine medieval tavern boasting an assortment fantastical creatures and otherworldly denizens. The air was a malodorous mix of pungent spirits, the most potent of which having been behind the bar for at least five centuries, burning herbs and incense, bubbling cauldrons, and less than hygienic patrons. Yet the tavern’s chaotic aura was enough to mask its strange smells, for on every wall and in every corner, there was something out of a dream . . . or a nightmare. 

Faeries waltzed across the floor, their ethereal glow radiating from their many shapes and forms, with pixies and sprites leaving streaks of light and mischievous laughter in the air, and tall, elven folk exchanging eloquent looks and speaking in beautiful foreign tongues whose sound was so novel that it couldn’t be compared to any human language; Shades, wights, and other apparitions took form as shadowy masses that dotted the tavern’s exterior tables, some resembling humans in both their appearance and shape, others manifesting as little more than a black haze; Spirits and demons from the farthest reaches of this world and the next mingled with the tavern’s staff of witches, their Otherworldly presence felt chiefly in their beautiful and dreadful visages, with some sporting human-like faces or bodies complimented by animal features, and others appearing with jagged teeth, claws, tentacles, and all manner of hellish facades. 

The tavern itself was not well arranged, and yet the internal calamity didn’t seem to bother the patrons. Tables, all seemingly handcrafted from dark woods and trimmed with gold or something similar, were scattered haphazardly across the floor, some missing chairs, some miles away from the rest; walls were decorated sparsely in some places with the occasional painting or wall sconce, whereas adjacent ones were loaded down with shelving and various occult decor. A prominent feature of the tavern was a large stage in the back corner where magical folk of all descriptions played strange instruments whose music was eerie yet strangely inviting. Behind this mystical cacophony sat a giant crystalline mirror, which held no reflection, only a thick fog beyond its surface. 

As only a few Patrons stopped to stare before they were quickly engrossed with what they were previously doing, Eva walked through the bar unsure of everything she’s ever learned; Dickens poked his head out, and while he saw some of the things inside he lacked the ability to see everything like Eva could, for the moment he was content to continue his nap. Stepping towards the Bar she walked up to the Bartender.[color=00aeef]“Um. Excuse me, I got this card from the White Witch. She said she could help me, authenticate something.”[/color]

The bartender, a scrawny imp with leathery black wings, green skin, and dark antlers, looked up at Eva with a devilish grin. 

“Just a moment,” he replied in a cool voice that was accompanied by something sinister. His body became ethereal, shrouded in a dark shadow that crept up the wall along the stairs and onto the second floor. The shadow entered the workroom where Marie sat on the hardwood floor, several volumes of grimoires and historical texts poured around her, all open to miscellaneous pages. Holt hovered about the room in the form of a wispy black cat. 

[color=90EE90][i]”What could you possibly be hoping to find?”[/i][/color] goaded the familiar. [color=90EE90][i]”You know well that the tales of your former self are long dead, known only to the shades of the Otherworld and ones such as myself.[/i][/color]

[color=FFE4B5]”And yet it seems that neither you nor the Otherworld can offer anything of import.”[/color] Marie spat venomously at Holt. Of course she didn’t mean anything by it, he knew that, there was just a lot going through her mind. 

After Joseph’s death and Marie’s acquisition of Holt, she fell into a depression that was made worse by a secret that Puck hadn’t seen fit to share until in the wake of tragedy. As it happened, Marie was the descendant of a powerful Welsh witch named Gwyneth Owens. Well, not quite her descendant, but her current incarnation. Gwyneth was powerful enough to cross the veil and be reborn, and Marie was the product of that rebirth. She always believed that her powers came from signing the Man in Black’s book, but instead her magic was something innate. For the past three months, she had been plagued with memories of her former self, bits and pieces of Gwyneth’s past seeping into her mind, Gwyneth’s voice and image, Marie’s own image, appearing in her mind’s eye, speaking to her in cryptic messages. 

Marie had spent her time trying to piece everything together, to learn more about Gwyneth in an attempt to learn about her full potential, to keep herself busy and her mind off Joseph. However, the Otherworld only carried so much information about Gwyneth, and this world’s only tie to her was Marie and Gwyneth’s possessions, which were scattered all across Europe and the Americas, unable to be tracked by magical or mundane means, hidden by the remnants of Gwyneth’s power. 

[color=90EE90][i]”We only know of Gwyneth what she wants us to know, and only she would possess the means to locate her lost possessions, meaning that only you possess the means to locate them. No mortal history nor magical text will help you.[/i][/color] Holt spoke gently, his eerie voice like a gentle caress. He shifted into the form of a raven and sat on Marie’s shoulder, who welcomed his presence. 

Marie sighed. She knew Holt was right, but no spell, divination, or ritual had been enough to uncover Gwyneth’s memories. She was at a loss.

“Ehhmm,” a voice interrupted the pair. The bartender’s shadow took form. “The White Witch has a visitor. A young lady, says you promised  to authenticate something for her. I wonder what she’d be willing to give up in exchange for such information . . .” the imp’s mind wandered off, but Marie brought him back.

[color=FFE4B5]”A visitor? I thought I told Puck to cancel all of my contracts for the month.”[/color]

The imp merely shrugged, disappearing once again and returning to his post downstairs. Marie stood up, Holt falling from her shoulder to the floor, now in the form of a black hare. She hadn’t the slightest idea who this visitor could be, but she figured that, given her current situation, a little work might be a good thing.

Marie descended down the winding stairs to the ground floor, Holt hopping along in tow. She wasn’t dressed as The White Witch. Instead, she wore a long, sleek, black mesh sweater that fit her like a dress, light grey leggings, and black pumps fitted with silver buckles. A few months ago, she wouldn’t dare wear something so mundane to The Red Devil, but since adopting a glamour charm in place of a mask to conceal her identity, The White Witch could make appearances in more casual attire. 

Marie sauntered over to the bar, spotting the hooded stranger whom she assumed to be her customer. Holt jumped onto the bar and looked at the strange girl, but didn’t recognize her.

[color=FFE4B5][b]You called for me?[/b][/color] Marie approached the stranger with a confidence that she lacked a few months prior. Her time as The White Witch and as an employee at The Red Devil had tremendously improved her speaking skills. 

[color=00aeef]“Oh, hey. I kinda have a mask this time, but it’s me, Pendragon.”[/color] Eva said to the woman who approached the counter. [color=00aeef]“You look more,civilian yeah. We spoke about getting Ex you know what appraised.”[/color]

[color=FFE4B5][b]”That’s right,”[/b][/color] it took Marie a moment, but she did remember a girl by the name of Pendragon asking her about certain magical topics a few months back during the Pax Metahumana crisis. [color=FFE4B5][b]”You came to me outside of Diplodoc’s base and I gave you Puck’s card. You wanted to know more about Excal . . .”[/b][/color] Marie stopped herself. Excalibur was a weapon forged from the power of Avalon, or so the legends went, and given that the entirety of The Red Devil was filled with beings and creatures from the Otherworld, a less ancient name for Avalon, it was likely not within her best interest to divulge its current whereabouts. There were no doubt individuals from the Otherworld in search of the mythical weapon.

[color=FFE4B5][b]”Follow me,”[/b][/color] Marie spoke in a hushed voiced, bidding Eva to follow her up the winding staircase to the second floor. 

Eva walked behind the White Witch taking in more of the sights, a few Patrons did take notice of their conversation probably because of how important the White Witch was if anything. And as she reached the second floor..

The workroom, like much of the tavern, was a beautifully chaotic mess. On every wall, in every crack and crevice, there was some strange, magical device, occult fetish or artifact, sigil, seal, potion, anything the heart could want. Marie’s books were scattered on the floor, along with small bowls filled with burning herbs, rune stones, tarot cards, three different sized hand mirrors, two of which were cracked, the other completely blacked out, and a mid-sized cauldron filled with a frothing black liquid. 

[color=FFE4B5][b]”Sorry about the mess, I’ve been . . . busy.”[/b][/color] Marie didn’t know Eva well enough to divulge any personal information, nor did she want to burden the girl with the problems of having a five-hundred year old witch’s memories lodged somewhere in the depths of her mind. Though somehow she believed that Eva might halfway relate, given her current situation. Marie made a swift motion at Holt that, to anyone else, would have appeared as nothing, but in truth, it was an order from master to familiar.

Holt, still under the guise of a hare, gave a slight nod. In an instant, the room was enveloped in a black haze, dashing and dancing to all corners, lining the walls, the floors, washing over the pair as they stood. When at last the smoke cleared, the room was spotless, everything returned to its rightful place. 

[color=FFE4B5][b]”There, much better.”[/b][/color]

[color=00aeef]“You know.”[/color] Eva said as she stood in utter disbelief. 
[color=00aeef]“I’m beginning to hate magic, chores would be so bloody easy.”[/color] Eva’s eyes focused back on Marie as Excalibur materialized between her hands. 

[color=00aeef]“So. How are we doing this, spells? Either way I know this isn’t an ordinary sword, be nice to know if this is the real deal though.”[/color]

[color=FFE4B5][b]”That’s all you want to know, then? If this is the real Excalibur?[/b][/color]

[color=00aeef]“I've been dealing with Ghosts, Magicians, or Witches whichever they prefer. And giant monsters. So real proof now and then would be Grand, I mean that or I’m just going crazy.”[/color]

[color=FFE4B5][b]”If there’s one thing I’ve learned: When dealing with magic, madness is sanity.[/b][/color] Marie smiled. It was refreshing to see someone struggling with the realms of folklore and magic and be able to help. [color=FFE4B5][b]”I have a few things we can try.[/b][/color]

As Eva walked forward holding the sheathed Excalibur, [color=00aeef]“Let’s go Mad then, hit me with what you got in mind.”[/color] Unsure of what to expect Eva tried to brace herself for what wackiness was about to ensue.

Marie tried to recall the legends she’d read regarding Excalibur. 

[color=FFE4B5][b]”If memory serves, one of the methods by which King Arthur recieved Excalibur was through the Lady of the Lake. Both she and the sword had the power to appear in any source of water, so I think we’ll first try to recall the sword’s memories using water as an empathic medium.”[/b][/color]

It was a simple task, water scrying. Marie had done it plenty of times before and had been granted both vague messages and highly concrete visions. She had no reason to believe that this time would be any different. With a swift hand motion, a large, cast-iron cauldron scudded across the floor and placed itself between the two of them. Marie gave a slight nod to Holt, who nodded. He assumed the form of a raven, flew onto the side of the cauldron and pecked at its interior three times. The inside began to the brim with water, swirling up from seemingly nowhere. Holt then flew down from the cauldron and onto an adjacent table. 

[color=FFE4B5][b]”Unsheath the sword and wave it over the cauldron,”[/b][/color] Marie directed Eva.

Eva removed the sheath like she had done so many times before setting it upright along the wall and in a quick motion had Excalibur ready as she slowly dragged it over the pot even less sure of what she would expect.

A dark fog appeared on the water’s surface, blotting out all of the light coming in, turning the liquid black as night. This black haze hung over the cauldron for some time, making Marie wonder if there was anything to see. However, a few moments more and the fog turned into rolling clouds, heavy with rain and thunder. She and Eva could see the crash of lightning, though they could hear nothing. The image of rain fell upon a vast expanse of green, a rolling hill that lead to a crystalline lakefront. The shoreline was dotted with mangroves, water lilies, and all manner of aquatic vegetation, and at the lake’s center was a large stone, jutting out from the water’s surface. 

The image vanished behind another of lightning, this time producing a feint crash in a distant land, the dull roar of rain hitting a hard surface following suit. The clouds shifted to reveal a new scene, one of cobblestone streets and castle walls, all empty. The only sign of life was at the top of a lonely spire on the castle fort, where a hazy figure stood surveying the land, a shining beacon attached to their waist.

Another crash of lightning shifted the scene back to the first, this time accompanied by an audible clap of thunder, rain streaming heavily onto the lake’s surface. At its center stood the same lonely stone, but this time a woman with no discernible features sat atop it, wearing dark, flowing garments garments, bathed in an ethereal glow. She held a long, glistening object in her hand. 

A final crash of lightning and the scene disappeared behind a thick black mist which turned the cauldron’s waters back to their normal transparency. Marie looked to Eva, hoping that she had seen something within the cauldron that could give her the answers she had been searching for.

 [color=00aeef]“So, this thing gets the Discovery channel yeah. Jokes aside, that was a lot of something Did you make any of that out? All I could make heads of was a Lady and a Sword, my Arthurian isn’t good but that’s the Lady of the Lake right?”[/color]

[color=FFE4B5][b]”All visions not delivered through the second sight have a tendency to be vague, but I think we saw a shortened version of the story of Excalibur. The first vision showed the Lady’s domain, the lake, and the final resting place of Excalibur. The stone that sat at its center was a reference to Excalibur’s home within the stone. The storm, along with the empty streets of the city were likely meant to show Camelot’s downfall and the clash with the witch, Morgana. The figure atop the castle was likely Arthur, whose hazy visage foretold of his death. After which, the sword, Excalibur, was stolen and trapped within the stone upon the lake.”[/b][/color] 

Marie’s explanation sounded like a literary analysis, but the symbolism present within visions and prophecies was essentially the same as a vague synopsis of a written story. Marie had spent years scrying and divining both past and future information, so she was highly attuned to the symbols and scenes of prophetic visions. 

[color=FFE4B5][b]”I know it still sounds vague, but I doubt any other magical sword would reveal this much information pertaining to the stories of Excalibur. I’m sure that literature and folklore missed the mark when it comes to details about the actual sword, but I would still take this as a sign of Excalibur’s authenticity.”[/b][/color]


[color=00aeef]“Bloody Hell, so this is the real deal yeah, this is really Excalibur. You know, this whole thing doesn’t really make me feel any better, I mean yeah. It’s hella cool that I wield a sword of Legend, but that also means my destiny isn’t my own. And that scares me.”[/color]

Hold Excalibur Eva paused before lifting the sheathe and slipping the blade inside. [color=00aeef]“Thanks though, I do mean that. I just have more to process now. Magic and Heroing, and I thought my Family was complicated. I’m going to head home, think things over a bit, next time I see you though I’ll treat you to something as thanks.”[/color] Eva said as she turned to head downstairs.

[color=FFE4B5][b]”Wait,”[/b][/color] Marie called after Eva, following her to the stairwell. [color=FFE4B5][b]”I know that this is all overwhelming, but never forget that magic is power. You may think yourself cursed or unfairly chosen to carry this burden, but if anything you've been given direct control of your own fate, a gift that few possess. Turn your unsurety into curiosity, your doubts and worries into amazement and wonder. Place yourself at the helm of this ship and you will steer it. Trust me on this.”[/b][/color] 

There was a pause as Eva listened to Marie, she did her best to explain her thoughts but Eva wasn’t so convinced. She spent all her youth trying to live her own life, and now this. Well for now as Eva reflected back, she had some information a bit of closure on what she got herself into. The Continuation of a Legend.