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Quick! Bring In The Laundry! A Storm’s A Brew’n!

Though the sun rose brightly in the morning, the day soon became overcast as the wind began to blow. One of the maids rushed outside to take down the morning’s laundry before rain soaked it through. Bren slowly woke up on her bed as storm clouds gathered outside.

The last thing she remembered was the room spinning as she hyperventilated, yet now she was neatly in her nightgown tucked under her covers. Getting up, she walked on the cold wooden floor towards the window when, with a start, she noticed someone sitting in the corner. “What the!…” as her hands and arms instinctively covered her breasts.

“It’s ok Brenzel, it’s only me!” Traveler said as he looked at her steadily.

“I’m half dressed!” Brenzel sputtered, adding, “What are you doing here!”

“Just checking in on you, and I felt you might need some encouragement,” the handsome man smiled.

Feeling out of time

Anger coming up in her face Bren said, “I need some answers! What did you do to me? Everything and everyone I ever knew is gone, and I am all alone! I’m not even in my own time! I didn’t agree to all this, nor would I had I known what you were really talking about!”

After a moment, he said, “I know it is a lot to take in, but it gets better with time.”

Bren sat down on the bed, her anger turning to tears, sobbing, “I’ll never see anyone I loved again!”

Looking genuinely distressed, Traveler explained, “Bren, though all this seems difficult now, I assure you it’s not as bad as it seems, and it all works out in the end.”


“For Christ’s sake, I don’t even know your name!”

Wincing just a little, he said, “Most call me Traveler.”

“No,” Bren said through her tears, “your real name, I want to know your real name.”

After a moment, as if considering something carefully, Traveler said, “Joshua.”

A Hellion at the door

Scotland, 1914

Hellion stepped onto the manicured lawn of the castle grounds towards evening. The many fairy-tale spires of the enormous building lay like a profuse forest against the hills behind it. Grey, sullen stone quarried centuries before, stated the obvious: This was a fortress.

Hellion walked purposefully past the guards and into the Scottish castle. Through the great hall and up the spiral stairs, he reached, then waited, before a wooden door held in place by ancient iron work. After awhile, the door slowly opened and a voice, smooth as fresh cream said, “Come in.” Entering the chamber, Hellion stood at attention in the dim, candle lit room.

Two women, one sitting in an evening dress and the other half dressed, paid little attention to him. Candles of all different sizes, some lit, some burnt out, littered the table before them. The one who spoke seemed bored as she sipped what appeared to be white wine in a crystal glass. The other girl, demure and quiet, kept her gaze steadfastly on the floor.

Glancing back over her shoulder towards the door, the glamorous woman said, “Why have you come, Hellion?”

“My apologies, Mistress, I have news of your sister.”

“Oh? And why would I care?” she said with a hint of menace in her voice.

“I beg your pardon, Mistress Siren, but there are two new developments. You required that I keep you informed if anything important came up.”

“For your sake they had better be important,” the disinterested woman replied as she looked at the girl.

Bad news and then some

“The first is that Penchant received a letter from Beauty.”

The wineglass of Montrachet Grand Cru trembled slightly as she set it down on the table. Motioning the young girl away, she stood and faced the Hellion. “What happened?” she demanded.

“A recession of her contract I believe, but only about five minutes”.

Glancing over to her own contract, suddenly, the woman’s face went from disinterest to pure hate saying, “Damn her to hell!”

Stoically, Hellion said, “Yes, ma’am, I believe that is what happened. The other development, Mistress Siren, is the presence of a new Seraph Hunter.”

“What?!” she screamed.

Taking an involuntary step back, Hellion continued, “She arrived about two weeks ago.”

“No!” The tall woman began to pace back and forth, face contorting as she muttered to herself. “Damn her, damn her to hell, that bitch!” Continuing on, sarcastically, she mocked, “‘Yes, of course, Siren, I can handle it. Nothing much to it, Siren. He’s just a little boy, Siren.’ Yeah, right, you handled it perfectly!”

To Hellion, the sound of her voice felt like fingernails raking across a chalkboard, causing him to move back still further, his skin crawling with fear. Immensely powerful beings, the Fallen Ones were known for their depravity, having a nasty habit of torturing those whom disturbed them in the slightest.

Noticing his fear, she demanded “What is it! What haven’t you told me!”

In a dry voice, Hellion said carefully, “She has grace. I saw it myself”.

Suddenly, Siren stopped in her tracks, eyes growing wide, then narrowing, asking, “How much?”