Mors Funebris Ch. 1 P. 3

Mors Funebris Chapter 1 Part 3
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First Technician Winnie, Fort Eequor’s go-to Gremlin for every technical problem deemed unfixable, was not happy today. The reason for her foul mood was due to the one magi-technical problem that is the bane of technicians anywhere in the multiverse: An Intermittent one.
‘Blasted teleportation platform!’ she thought to herself angrily as she flexed her oversized furry ears back onto her head. ‘There’s never a simple fix for you is there!?’ she silently raged while glaring intently at Platform # 8’s energizing coils. The coils were the one portion of the platform she suspected was the root of the intermittent problem, at least this time around.
Ever since that strange new recruit had shown up that morning, this particular platform had been ‘acting up’. First it had malfunctioned and shut itself off completely, then it refused to allow itself to be turned back on. The Porter techs assigned to it, had managed to create a workaround that allowed it to return to operation. But only after a long interval of creativity.
Internal self-diagnostics indicated that the number eight platform was “functioning within normal parameters”. Yet, ever since then, Platform #8 had continued to have a sporadic problem. On every fifth transportation, it simply would not allow anything, or anyone to be ported in. This caused Unholy-Hell for the other already overworked platform techs, who had to take cover for it. Eventually, after every other less experienced Porter-Tech had attempted to fix the problem, and subsequently had thrown up her hands, or equivalent, into the air, First-Tech Winnie was called in to service it.
But, try as she might, she couldn’t eliminate the trouble when she replaced or adjusted one suspected unit or another. Instead, every troubleshooting routine yielded the same result: the problem would seemingly relocate itself, inside another one of the dozens of complex arcane magi-tech units.
‘I’ve run diagnostics on this particular platform at least a half-dozen times after replacing a suspected component, and it keeps claiming that it is working perfectly fine!’ Winnie thought to herself angrily, as she leaned her petite form back onto the wall of the maintenance access tunnel.
‘Yet every time the entire platform is energized and operated, it STILL refuses to allow anything or anyone to be ‘ported’ in on every fifth transport!’ Winnie felt her frustration growing, as she screwed up her face and rubbed at her eyes with her gloved hands.
After a minute of silent contemplation of the inner workings of the undersides of Platform #8, Winnie reached over to her A.M.T.K. (auto-mobile-tool-kit), and held out a hand palm up. Her AMTK automatically noted her gesture, initiated the appropriate routine, and selected one of her hand-tools based upon its constant readings of her mood and facial expressions. It then placed the hand-tool it had calculated as being the one she most desired, into her outstretched palm.
The AMTK, or Amotok as she called it, was one of Winnie’s pride and joys. It was a little something she’d invented many years ago, when she still lived with her parents. She felt that it was the next best thing to having an apprentice mooning over her. Unlike an apprentice, who always needed some kind of encouragement or praise, her Amotok would always do its job without its feelings being affected. The reason being, it didn’t have any.
Feeling the weight of the selected tool in her hand, she immediately hefted it up to eye level, and subsequently gave out an annoyed growl.
“Bad Amotok!” she cried, grimacing. Her purple iris eyes crossed as she focused her attention upon not, a Fine-adjustment Moog Clamp as she had desired. But instead, a large ballpeen hammer. The one she used most often when she desired to hit something repeatedly, and with much cursing being involved.
‘Well,’ she thought to herself with a sigh, ‘as tempting as it is to engage in some percussive maintenance! General Scathach would have my head on a platter if I so much as damaged a single Teleporter.’ She concluded, as she lowered the hammer back down to her toolkit. Her AMTK then recognized her gesture and retrieved the hammer, storing it away in its designated spot. It then waited patiently for her to ‘request’ another tool.
‘This is beyond infuriating!’ Winnie thought silently, fidgeting. ‘Perhaps a Moog clamp isn’t what I need right now?’ she mused to herself. ‘The problem being is that I can’t think straight because I’m upset! And when I’m upset, mechanical things tend to go awry!’ she grinned with the remembrance of her species peccadilloes.
‘Perhaps some candy!’ she thought, her mouth-watering at the thought. ‘I don’t know why, but these access tunnels have been smelling like chocolate for the entirety of the,…’ Winnie checked her timepiece and then groaned. ‘Four and a half hours! Aaagh! Time that I’ve been down here!’ one of her hands fell down and lay itself near her bare midriff. Winnie looked at her hand, and then her stomach and came to a decision.
“Nope!” she called out with a frown. “Candy is NOT what I need right now.” She said aloud while patting her stomach. “Anymore candy today, and I’ll be losing my girlish figure!” she grumbled.
“Again!” She winced and shuddered, thinking back to that time she ‘invented’ a Gremlin Fat-Trimmer. ‘I don’t want to go through THAT experience, ever again!’
“No.” she spoke aloud. “What I need is some one on one time with my boyfriend.” Winnie sighed. “But he’s not here, Maou Damn it!”
‘However,’ she grinned as she remembered another of her devices. Winnie then reached out to her Amotok once more and made another gesture. This one involved her miming a grip upon a large cylindrical object. Her Amotok took only a fraction of a second to recognize her gesture, and then subsequently placed the correct item of her desire into her gloved hand.
With a small ‘ker-thud’ resounding in her feline-like ears, Winnie’s grin grew by leaps and bounds, as she focused hungrily upon the life-sized dildo replica of her current beau’s penis.
Ah! But this dildo wasn’t just another bit of rubber cast into a human-like form. Oh no! This dildo was another one of her inventions. Contained deep within the rubber, was a series of micro-complex devices that stored Human-Essence. Her current boyfriend’s Essence to be precise. An amount of which he eagerly ‘donated’, in case of an Emergency on her part.
As she had invented it to do, her beau’s Essence would be released into her, just as soon as she reached the height of her own ecstasy, thereby enhancing and augmenting it.
‘Not quite an emergency, but close enough!’ she grinned salaciously, as she gave the rather long dildo a loving lick end to end, lubricating it. She then freed one of her hands from its confining glove, and then the other. After lying back and placing the saliva dribbled dildo between her ever-budding breasts, she removed her cloth pants, revealing her womanly folds that were adorned with a small tuft of pubic hair atop her mons pubis.
Once more, she took ahold of her dildo and gave it another coating of saliva in preparation of her incipient dildo impalement. A rather superfluous action, as her loins were already well infused with her Gremlin-brand lubricant.
With one hand holding her current favorite dildo poised over her, and the other hand stroking her chest and tummy, Winnie lowered her glans-end of her dildo down slowly to its intended spot.
‘Oooooh!’ she moaned silently, as she began stroking her major labia with her dildo. ‘Aaaaahhh! This is just what I needed!’ she thought to herself, as her eyes rolled back into her head with the sparkling pleasure. Her tongue lolled as she finally, spontaneously inserted the dildo’s glans-head fully into herself, past the minor labial folds. Then feeling it fill and widen her aperture to its limit.
Deeper and deeper she continued to push it resolutely inwards, until a seeming eternity later, she had managed to engulf nearly its entire length within her eager cavern. She held it there for a short while, and then she began to slowly withdraw it, enjoying every bump and rise that was stimulating her crevice’s folds.
‘It’s too bad I’m not allowed to bring my boyfriend on the job.’ She thought to herself in her desire. ‘But then if I did, I’d never get any work done!’ she giggled to herself as she withdrew her dildo nearly all of the way out. ‘Happy Gremlin, Happy Machinery!’
All of her coherent thoughts ebbed and washed away as she began to plunge the dildo within herself again and again, in an ever-increasing rate of speed and urgency. All the while she was thinking solely of her lover’s rippling muscles and his delicious scent.
It was Winnie’s ill-luck that she had chosen to masturbate herself in the underside of the malfunctioning platform #8. But then if it wasn’t malfunctioning, she wouldn’t have been down there in the first place.
Ill-luck indeed, as in the depths of her mono-sexual pleasuring, she did not become aware of the fact that the Teleportation platform that she’d been working on, began to light up and to operate seemingly of its own accord.
At an ever mounting pace, she plunged her dildo into herself as she single-mindedly thought of her last sexual encounter with her current lover. All the while, she was imagining that it was his penis, and not a casting of it, that was pumping furiously within her sex.
Her ever increasing audible moans covered the sound of the platform humming itself into life. That, along with the quivering of her flesh bouncing in tune with the dildo’s rhythm, made it impossible for her to notice the platform’s vibrations of its implacable activation.
She also didn’t notice the subsequent ozone-like aura of Teleportation-capacitors charging up, and then overflowing out into the access tunnel in which she lay. Within a second or two, the teleportation energies had reached saturation within the tunnel, causing Winnie’s hair, and fur to stand on end.
After several seconds more, Winnie’s sexual pleasuring reached its inevitable conclusion as she reached her orgasm. Her Dildo-gizmo reacted accordingly, and released her beau’s stored Essence into the depths of her vagina in a massive sustained burst.
Sadly, the release of both the Human Essence life-energies, and Winnie’s innate Demonic Energy, caused an arcane chain reaction with the malfunctioning platform. For within mere milliseconds, the platforms’ energies activated, causing a loudly audible sparking ‘bang!’, which then teleported Winnie and her dildo, away to a place previously unknown and unseen by any mortal eye, leaving behind her gloves and shorts as testimony to her existence.
No one at any of the other platforms noted her departure, being as they were focused on their own tasks. Her teleportation was just one of several others that were taking place.
Her Amotok on the other hand, had no idea-equivalent about what to do concerning the sudden disappearance of its mistress. So, after the pre-arranged time limit of no-contact being reached, it simply shut itself down to preserve its charge.
Her disappearance was not noted until well into her next duty shift, many hours later.
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Along about this time, Annwyfn Arawn was being lead towards his assigned quarters by his Mentor Tia. The pair of them were walking there, after finishing up a late lunch at the ‘Mess-Hall’, the Fort’s supplier of meals that fulfilled the variegated dietary needs of a wide range of Mamono.
Well, most of their needs that is. The individual troops were left to fend for themselves, when it came to obtaining a source of human Essence. As the Fort’s mess-hall hadn’t yet found a sustainable pool of same, in which to dole it out from. This gave added impetus to the troop’s motivation for finding a husband, when one of the rare mobilization orders came down the pipes.
‘Perhaps I should think about doing all of my cooking within my rooms.’ Arawn mused silently to himself, thinking back to just a short while ago when he entered the Mess-Hall. There, nearly every head within turned and looked at him with various levels of hunger evident in their eyes.
“Tia?” Arawn asked suddenly, as he gripped his aching civet filled stomach. She turned her head attentively in reaction.
“What is the History of Fort Eequor? I have noticed that the architecture of the city’s buildings,” he asked, gesturing first down at one fairly intact limestone barracks, “and the Fort’s buildings” he then gestured to a much larger, and wider, barbican sitting across the street from the barracks, “to be vastly different both in size and scope.” Tia smiled widely enough to reveal her set of jagged shark-like teeth.
“Oh?” she began, smiling. “You’ve finally noticed that.” Arawn frowned at the implicit patronizing tone she used, but didn’t comment.
“Fort Eequor wasn’t built by humans.” She said, simply. Arawn stopped and looked at her full on with a naked curiosity.
“So, who built it then?” he asked.
“Demons did so,...”
“What? When?” he interrupted, surprised.
“It was built many centuries ago, long before the Great Maou ascended to po,...”
“But why would the Demons….?” He interrupted again, but was cut off.
“If you’ll hush long enough, I will explain in its entirety.” Tia replied tightly, holding onto her patience as well she could. After a few seconds, Arawn managed to fight off the rejoinder that had immediately came to his lips, and smiled expectantly.
“The citizens of Cynosure have always valued their independence from every Empire or principality.” Tia began, instructing from rote memory. “This was because Cynosure has always been dedicated to free-trade within her sphere of influence. Empires always come at a high cost, after all.”
“Indeed.” Arawn agreed, nodding. “Much of the financial gains are short lived, yet the cost of maintaining a set of military forces can become unbearable in the long run. Thus, necessitating an expansion of the Empire.” Tia nodded her furry head, and smiled.
“That’s one of the many things I’ve learned here in my time here at the Fort. That Empires need to expand.” She replied, moving herself to a position along the side of the street to allow some approaching foot traffic to pass unimpeded. Arawn noticed her gaze and followed suit. She continued speaking, after waving a hello to the pair of Red Oni who passed them both, pointedly ignoring him.
“Eventually, every Empire reaches a tipping point. They cannot expand, because all of their forces are being expended upon suppressing dissent from within.”
“I think I can see where this is going.” Arawn said, smiling knowingly. Inwardly, he suddenly remembered something.
‘Odd, the pair of Red Oni do not seem to have noticed me.’ Distracted by a blur, he looked up to the roofs of the nearby Barracks buildings, he noticed a familiar looking Harpy flying along.
Briefly, she and he made eye contact. Unlike before, she seemed uninterested in him this time as she continued in her flight. He was shaken from his perusal, as Tia began speaking once more.
“Precisely, Arawn. The Empire needs to expand, yet if it cannot, the Empire falls. Thus, the best way for a city to avoid being absorbed, is to wait it out. Cynosure has done so many times over the centuries.”
“But what has that to do with,…” he began. Tia interrupted him by raising one furred-carapace covered hand.
“I’m getting to that.” She grimaced. “Cynosure’s position of promoting and maintaining trade, has allowed it to grow prosperous by charging a modest level of fees and taxes. Most of which has been invested back into the maintenance of the city, and its surrounding islands and lands. Including a defense force.
“The City Guard?” Arawn asked. Tia nodded.
“That’s one example. But not too long ago, the City had their own military, both a standing Army and a modest Navy. The cost of maintaining them was both prohibitive yet necessary, as one of the neighboring Eastern-Order nation states, decided to start carving out their own Empire. That country decided that Cynosure to be a prime target.” Tia stopped reciting momentarily, and then shifted her stance so that she was leaning on all four of her left legs. She continued.
“Yet, for all of the money they spent in the cost of maintaining their military, they needed even more money to expand the then current Fort. Which back then, was already in dire need of repairs. Money as it turned out, they didn’t have.” Tia shook her head sadly.
“So, what did they do?” Arawn, asked looking around and getting a chill sensation.
‘NO!’ he realized in a flash of horror. Tia noticed his reaction and spoke, a sad look crossing her face.
“I see that you comprehend.” She sighed.
“One of the ruling families’ Majin-kin stepped forth and proposed to make a Deal with a high-ranking Demon Noble, a Baphomet of the time. Remember, that this was well before the Great Maou had come about!”
“Thus, the Baphomet in question, was of the original Goat-headed variety?” Arawn asked rhetorically, shuddering with distaste. Tia nodded, her lips in a hard line.
“Indeed. The Deal was made, and despite every obstacle thrown in his way, that Demon-Noble was able to complete the construction well within the agreed upon time-limit.” She sighed, closing her eyes.
“I would imagine that that Majin’s fate, wasn’t even close to as pleasurable as a modern-day Baphomet’s intended victim.” Arawn stated woodenly. Tia pursed her lips, and shook her head several times slightly, in negation.
Arawn couldn’t suppress the whole-body shudder that overwhelmed him in that moment. He then clutched himself in remembrance of his own time under the control of the Demon that he had angered. After a moment, Tia continued once more.
“The Fortress was ready for occupancy by the human forces, just in the nick of time. The Forces of the Eastern-Order showed up days later and placed Cynosure under siege. If it weren’t for the stout impregnability of the Fort, Cynosure would’ve fallen. Eventually, help arrived and the siege was broken.” Tia kept her eyes locked on Arawn and noted that he seemed to be hanging on her every word.
“Cynosure licked its wounds and rebuilt. Fort Eequor continued on seemingly unscathed. At the time, no one suspected the real reason why the Fort was unable to be eliminated, despite the best efforts of the Eastern-Order. As it turned out, the Fort’s walls and grounds had been seeded heavily with Demonic Energy. That energy was so well infused within the stonework, that none became aware of it. If something was broken, the Demonic Energy would repair it.”
“What we know now, is that the Demon Noble at the time, fully expected that all of those ‘Demon-Seeds’ would seep out, and slowly corrupt the lands of Cynosure, and eventually turn it into a Dark Demon Realm. Yet it did not.” Tia explained, lifting her arms up and out to indicate everything around her.
“I would imagine that Lord Eequor was most chagrined about that!” Arawn chuckled, then stopped as he observed Tia’s sudden frown.
“No Arawn, the fort wasn’t named after the Demon. No one can recall what that Baphomet’s name was.” She said, shaking her head.
“Then who was the Eequor that the Fort was named after?” he asked.
“LADY Eequor, was the Majin who made that deal with the Baphomet lord back then. It’s been rumored that every Baphomet that exists today, is a descendant of her.” This last bit of information, left Arawn with a bad taste in his mouth. His face screwed up in thought.
“Wait Mentor! This is all well and good, but it still does not explain why the difference in architecture!”
“The reason behind the difference is, that the Demon in question built the Fort from Demonic Standards, such as they were back then. The Fort was built to accommodate Demons and the Monster-kin of the time. Thus, when the Great Maou’s Army was invited in several centuries later, they stepped into a spot already seemingly made for them. Which, in a way it was.”
“Oh.” Arawn blinked. “Thank you Mentor, this answer clears up many questions that I have had thus far.” He finished, looking at the Fort’s architecture in a new light.
“Shall we then?” Tia asked, gesturing with an arm towards his awaiting apartment. Arawn nodded, and resumed walking, his pair of boots thudding against the cobblestones of the street in a steady pattern. A pattern matched by Tia’s fourth harmonic, as her eight tarsi claws started tapping on the stones alongside him.
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Arawn sighed forlornly, as he stepped further inside the seemingly cavern-like emptiness that were his assigned quarters. It resembled Tia’s own apartment in form and function: Sliding room divider doors that were covered with a paper-like material that allowed privacy, but didn’t block the light.
It boasted wooden floors and walls, and there were two storm doors that covered the windows. He noted that his apartments were slightly larger than hers, but it still had a bit of a ‘homey’ feel to it. Tia took note of his sigh and tilted her head in concern.
“Are you all right, Arawn? Is something the matter?” She asked. He didn’t answer immediately.
“No, Mentor. I am not all right.” He sighed once more as he hung his head. “These rooms remind me of the fact that these rooms are meant for a couple, not for an individual.” He answered with more than a hint of sadness tinging his voice. Comprehension flooded Tia.
“Takana?” she asked softly. He turned his head and looked at her, nodding. Briefly, their eyes met, and Tia was overwhelmed momentarily by the depths of the grief that shown within them. In that moment, she received an inkling of the despair that had suffused him for uncounted centuries.
She then broke eye contact and forced herself to look away, suddenly mindful of her own brief existence. The experience left her gasping in shock, and close to tears for some reason.
Arawn noted her reaction and apologized.
“I am sorry Mentor, that you felt a modicum of my lifetime then. I will endeavor to insure that it will not be repeated.” He breathed in then, reinforcing himself and his psychic shields. Tia found herself unable to reply, as she found herself still falling mentally, in remembrance of the void that his existence was.
She was shaken from that fugue, by Arawn’s hand upon her person. Looking up, she saw Arawn not quite looking at her. But close enough to let her know that he was attentive.
“It is best to not try to make full eye contact with any kind of Immortal, Tia. As you are undoubtedly now aware the reason why.” He informed her softly. She nodded in agreement, not answering verbally.
“If you would Mentor, allow me a few minutes of privacy. I may be limited in my scope, but there are a few things this Majin can do to ‘liven up the place’, as it were.” He asked.
Tia readily agreed, and exited his apartment, closing the door behind her, as best she could in her haste to be away from him. When she had left, she felt tears of empathic sadness overwhelming every one of her eyes. ‘Chocolate,’ she decided, ‘I need some chocolate.’
 Arawn watched her go, keeping his silence. A few minutes after she had gone, he still remained immobile, his thoughts his own. Finally, after an unknowable impetus, he began moving about.
One, two, three steps he took, until he was in the approximate center of the apartment. Turning himself around and remaining in place, he turned and looked around the wooden walls, judging each and every one of them with a silent standard. Until finally, seemingly at random, he picked one out and strode towards it. Once there, he reached back and retrieved his Silver-shield that had remained magically hidden there, and pulled it up over his head.
After a brief yet intense inspection, he judged that Belphegor’s forced crease could no longer be seen. He then placed it upon the desired wall at the level of his head. There, it affixed itself upon the wall’s surface. Immovable to any who might desire to move it unauthorized.
Stepping back, he concentrated upon that symbol of Chaos that adorned the face of the shield: Eight Black arrows expanding out in the cardinal directions from the center.
‘A symbol of Chaos, ancient even when I was young.’ He mused silently, concentrating.
He then raised his right arm, palm facing out, and spoke a mental command. This caused the shield to activate a sequence unused for several decades.
The shield upon the wall split itself along the rim with a deeply resonant ‘clunk’ that sounded more-hollow than such a small shield should allow. It then separated into two hemispheres, an obverse and reverse. The obverse rotated clockwise, as the two shields counter-rotated to each other a full revolution. All during this, it was making a very unmetallic sound reminiscent of a grinding millstone.
Once the rotations were complete, the two shields automatically came together once more, giving off yet another unusually resonant ‘clunk’. After that, an archway melted into visibility on the face of the wall, the shield acting as its capstone.
 Arawn, then lowered his hand and strode forward to the Silver-like metallic door. With a gentle pull, he opened it.
When he did, a gentle breeze came forth from the doorway rustling his hair. Arawn, closed his eyes and breathed in, savoring the scent of the plants that lay on the other side of the gateway.
‘Honeysuckle.’ He smiled absently. ‘It has been far too long since I have visited.’ He thought to himself. He opened his eyes and took a single pace forward, entering the pocket dimension known to him as: The Sanctuary.
What a sight awaited him on the other side! He found himself standing in a large courtyard of limestone paving stones. On three sides of the courtyard lay a number of capped stone menhirs festooned with the aforementioned honeysuckle vines. On the fourth side, stood a three-story wooden edifice known to him as the Sanctuary, proper. Many were the rooms and secrets that lay within its walls. Of no few of either, even he had not yet fully divined.
Standing between him and the Sanctuary, were his Not-brothers patiently waiting for his orders.
“Secundus, Tertius, Quartus, Quintus.” Arawn/Primus spoke, as he nodded to them in turn, who each then returned his nod with a smile.
“Let us begin, the Archway will remain open only for a short while.” He commanded. Silently each of his other personality’s physical manifestations, set about their prearranged task.  Which was, to help Primus move his personal belongs from his private room located in the Sanctuary, to his newly assigned private quarters at Fort Eequor. Primus of course, assisted.
They moved quickly and efficiently, as only a telepathically connected team can. Well within the allotted timeframe, Primus’ goods had been transferred over into his rooms, leaving it half-filled with boxes and furniture.
“Wait!” Primus said suddenly, as he darted his head to and fro. “Where are Takana’s belongings!?” he demanded fiercely.
“We left them behind in the Sanctuary.” Quintus spoke then. “I was not sure if you truly wanted them with you here, now.” Primus’ eyes flared in indignation momentarily, then the moment of anger passed and he became his nominally passive self once more.
“Perhaps that is for the best.” He decided. “But, once I have gotten my rooms in order, I would have Takana’s belongings with me once more. That way they will be ready for her, once she has recovered,”.
“If she recovers.” Tertius stated then with a frown, from his position of settling down a rather large bookshelf into one corner. Primus’ head shot over and glared at him.
“WHEN she recovers!” he said angrily. “WHEN!!!” he barked, his eyes blazing once more. “NOT IF! She will recover, she has to!” he half-shouted in defiance, as small blobs of spittle flew from his lips. Tertius and the other not-brothers of Arawn, dared not to contradict him then. Instead, they all wisely chose to keep their own counsel, and nodded an affirmation.
Arawn settled himself down after a moment or three. Taking in a breath, he asked.
“Are there any further questions, gripes, or complaints, that anyone here wishes to convey?” he asked. Turning his head, he looked at Secundus, who had raised his hand.
“Yes?” Primus asked, his eyes narrowing.  Secundus lowered his hand.
“Primus, I know that you have promised it several times, but when exactly will the rest of us be allowed a field trip? I have been dying for ages, to get out and explore this new world!”
“How long has it been since you Awoke, Secundus?” Primus asked him, with a smile forming hesitantly on his lips. Almost as if he were trying to not laugh out loud. Secundus couldn’t help but notice Primus’ failed effort at suppression.
“A few hours at most.” He admitted. “But I still have access to the memories of my predecessor! And he felt that a field trip had been long overdue for him, then too!”
“Well,” Primus began, “let me remind you also of the task that I assigned your predecessor. The one in which I wanted him to reproduce the Periapt of Concealment.” Primus spoke, with a raised eyebrow in emphasis. Secundus’ eyes blinked rapidly in consternation.
“UUuuuuhmmm, yes. I had quite forgotten about that.” He admitted shamefacedly.
“The sooner you manage to reproduce it,” Primus began.
“The sooner we all can get out and about.” Quintus finished for him. Both Tertius and Quartus smiled and nodded then, looking meaningfully at Secundus. Who then raised his hands in surrender.
“All right, all right! I get the message. I will proceed post haste upon the task. I guess I have some motivation now!” he said, as he smiled and took his leave then hurried to his workshop.
“Anything else?” Arawn/Primus was about to ask, when he heard a knocking upon the entrance door to his apartment.
“Just a second!” Quintus called out automatically, then covered his mouth with a hand. He sheepishly looked over to Primus and shrugged his shoulders with a smile. Primus smiled back, indicating he wasn’t upset. He then made a ‘shooing’ motion with a hand at the remaining not brothers- who then quickly and efficiently returned through the metallic archway, and closed the door behind them.
Once the door had shut, the archway melted away into non-existence. Arawn then went to the door to his apartment and opened it. Behind it stood his Mentor, Tia.
“Arawn.” She began as she took a step inside. “I just remembered…that…there,…was.” She continued then trailed off, as she noticed that Arawn’s previously empty apartment, was now filled with a variety of goods.
“ARAWN! Where on earth did all of this,…this…” she asked, as she picked up a book that sat atop a pile of same, and opened it. “Come from?” she said, as she read the interior of the book she had in her hands.
Or tried to. Her attempt at reading the runes within, made her eyes cross and she felt herself become disoriented. Enough so, to cause her mouth to open and allow a generous dollop of chocolate-laden saliva to drip down onto the page below her. Arawn frowned fiercely when he noticed.
“Helvetia!” he shouted, as he strode forward and snatched the book away from her, preventing any further damage.
“Please be more careful! Many of these works are irreplaceable!” he grumbled, while he looked ruefully at the stain Tia’s saliva had left within its pages. Looking up, he noticed that Tia was still badly affected by what she’d witnessed within the book.
Arawn sighed and closed his eyes in consternation. Opening them once more, he set down the book in question, to allow it to dry.
‘Luckily, her saliva stain didn’t touch any of the diagrams or writing.’ He thought to himself as he raised a hand and passed it over Tia’s main blue eyes, while intoning a cantrip. His cantrip had the intended effect of erasing Tia’s short-term memory of what she had just seen.
Tia stopped swaying in place, and stood upright as she raised her hands to her head.
“Arawn, what was it that you just did?” she asked, blinking furiously.
“I erased the sight of the book you chose to read from your memory. Some Magics have a way of imprinting themselves upon the minds of those unprepared for it.” He answered by way of explanation.
“Why?” she asked unsteadily, still a bit unnerved from her short exposure. “What kind of Magic was it?’
“It was a treatise explaining the ways and wherefores of Necroscopy.” He began, but was interrupted.
“ARAWN!” Tia shouted indignantly. “Summoning the Dead? That’s an evil thing to do! I’m disappointed you even have such an item in your possession!” she said, disgusted with him.
“Helvetia!” Arawn shouted, equally indignant. “It is called Necroscopy! Summoning the dead is called Necromancy. Which is something totally different!” he barked.
“Necro,…whatever! I fail to see what the difference is!” Tia replied angrily, taking several steps of her spider-legs back from him.
“If you are willing to listen Mentor, I will take the time to explain them.” He answered, barely keeping his temper in check. Arawn and she stared at each silently for several seconds. Finally, Tia gave in first.
“Very well then, Yokai Basic Arawn.” She said with gravity. “Enlighten me.” She added with a baleful glare and a sneer.
“Necromancy is,” he glared back at her, beginning. “A violation of the natural order.” He then breathed in to calm himself and sat down upon a crate of books.
“Necroscopy,” he said, raising one hand by way of demonstration. “and Necromancy,” he continued, raising his other hand, “are both means of communicating with the dead, each has its own limitations” He intoned from memory.
“Now, as I said before, Necromany is a violation of the natural order.” He looked at Tia, who looked back at him and nodded. He carried on.
“It is a violation, in that it forces a person’s soul back into their own original body, or a simulacrum. This invariably causes the soul to experience an extremely large amount of spiritual pain, for obvious reasons.”
“Which are?” Tia asked suddenly, curious. Arawn looked back at her and blinked, surprised.
“Primarily, the biggest reason is that the soul or spirit has already gone on to either their ‘reward’ or they have been reborn into another body. Necromancy, forces the soul to return regardless of either outcome.”
“But wouldn’t that mean the newly reborn person, dies?” Tia asked, shocked.
“Indeed it often does, Tia.” Arawn nodded sadly.
“That’s beyond horrible!” she cried, disgusted.
“Which is why it, and its practitioners are so rightly reviled.” He answered.
“But what about Lichs, Revenants, and Zombies?” Tia asked, fascinated now.
“I will explain those differences later, if you do not mind. Right now, I was about to explain Necroscopy.” He reminded her. Tia was shocked into silence and nodded at him.
“Necroscopy, on the other hand, also involves forcing a soul to move as well.”
“But how is that different?”
“It is different in that instead of forcing the dead person’s soul to move, you move your own.” He answered, smiling.
“What?” Tia asked, shocked once again.
“Essentially, what you do is move your soul out of your body, and then on to the ‘Land of the Dead’ for lack of a better term. There, you have the opportunity to search out, and communicate with your desired dead person. Assuming that they have not ‘moved on’ as it were.”
“Oh.” Replied Tia, somewhat mollified.
“Both kinds of Necro-magic carry with it a danger. In Necromancy, the Danger is often that the soul of the dead person might become ‘locked’ into its decaying body. Who then, rightly becomes quite angry at its newfound predicament. Said anger is often directed towards the one who condemned them to such a fate.”
“And the other Magic?”
“The dangers for that, involve the very real possibility that the Necroscoper will become lost in the Lands of the Dead, never to return.” Tia blinked in response, and was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked him one further question.
“Have you ever gone into those Lands, as a Necroscoper?” she asked, nervously.
“Yes.” Arawn nodded, “many times. I have often had to resort to it, when certain information became necessary for me to retrieve. Unfortunately, a number of my apprentices became lost in those lands, despite my efforts to prevent it.” He replied sadly, with a melancholy look.
“Why haven’t you gotten lost?”
“Because, of my own unique status.” He answered, then elaborated when he saw the questioning look on Tia’s face.
“My immortality prevents me from ever staying and getting lost in the Necro-Lands. Despite my desires to remain there.” He added with a mirthless smile.
“Uuuuuhhhhhmmmm.” Tia hummed by way of reply, unsure of what to say or do next. Luckily Arawn saw her predicament and asked her a question.
“Well Mentor, as you can see I have quite a bit of straightening up and organizing to do, before my apartment can be considered livable. Would you care to assist me in that?” Arawn asked, this time with a humorous smile.
“I would love to.” Tia answered, more than a little curious to see what other Magical artifacts he might have within his possession. And perhaps to get a chance to wheedle out some valuable information concerning them. As it was, she was most interested in all forms of that skill she desired so dearly: Magic.
Quickly, the two began their task. It took several hours.
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During those hours, Tia dropped her role as Mentor. Instead, she became the erstwhile student. Arawn, naturally stepped into that role of Mentor. It was a role he himself had performed many times over the centuries.
“I hadn’t realized that there are so many forms of Magic Arawn!” Tia cried out happily, changing the subject as they finished up their task. Looking about, she suddenly realized that there was one question he had not yet answered.
“Arawn?” Tia asked once again, as he turned to look at her once more.
‘Well are you not full of questions today?’ he secretly smiled.
“Where did all of this come from? I would’ve noticed if you had anyone making a delivery.” She asked, crossing her arms suspiciously.
“It all came,” he said lifting an arm and pointing at the silver shield upon the wall, “from that.”
“And what is that? I’ve looked at for the last couple of hours and I keep forgetting to ask.”
“Amongst other things, it is a Trans-dimensional Gateway.”
“WHAT!” Tia exploded angrily, jumping up slightly and spreading all of her legs out, as she crouched. “TRANSDIMENSIONAL! That kind of Magi-tech can cause Teleportation platforms endless numbers of problems, often fatal!” she yelled, outraged. “It’s no wonder why you had such a difficult time porting in!”
“Trans-dimensional GATEWAY!” Arawn shouted back, emphasizing, “It was inert until I activated it, after you left for your apartment! Since it was deactivated, there is no way that it could have interfered with the teleportation process. I have gone through hundreds, if not thousands of similar rapid-transit without it interfering with any one of them!”
“Never-the-less Arawn!” Tia shouted back, frustrated. “I will need to inspect the other side of it, before I can judge it safe. I am a Teleportation technician after all!” Tia almost growled at him. “Don’t make me pull rank.” She added.
“That will not be necessary.” Arawn smiled. “A short demonstration will be well within order.” He said. as he approached the silver shield and raised his hand, concentrating.
Once more as before, after a moment the shield split in two along the rim. But, unlike before, the obverse shield rotated counter-clockwise only a half turn, and every other noise resounded audibly as well.
Finally, once the silver archway had melted into view, Arawn gently pushed the door open. After a meaningful look directed towards Tia, he stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Tia followed, though hesitantly as the archway wasn’t built to accommodate her slightly wider frame.
Within, there was no honeysuckled courtyard and Wooden Sanctuary building. Instead, she found herself within a large stone room. Looking about in the dim light, she noted that it appeared to be largely empty, with the exception of Arawn.
Tia then reached into one of her bandolier pockets and pulled out a XXXX, the standard porter technician troubleshooting gizmo of choice. Often used to detect any potential problems with Teleportation platforms.
Activating it, she patiently allowed the Magi-tech device to run its own tests. After several long seconds, it came back with a negative reading. Tia gave out a hearts-felt sigh of relief as she returned the device to her bandolier’s waiting pocket.
“All right, Arawn, I’m satisfied. I apologize if this seems unduly paranoid on my part.” She stated, looking at him in the dim light of the chamber. Arawn, merely smiled and waved his hand in dismissal.
“Quite all right Mentor! I would be concerned if you were not in fact, paranoid about it.” He stated as he led the way out of the chamber.
‘Great Maker, it is well that I kept this antechamber vacant for just this kind of occasion. Otherwise I would have some uncomfortable explanations to tender to Helvetia.’ He thought to himself.
Tia, following him, also took note that as they both exited the antechamber, that he and she were leaving behind footprints in the dust on the chamber floor.
‘Interesting.’ She mused, ‘the only marks here are the ones we just made right now!’ she said to herself in silent triumph. ‘There isn’t a single sign of any crates, furniture or anything similar! There is something decidedly odd going on here.’
“Arawn?” Tia asked, suddenly nervous. Arawn noticed that nervousness but didn’t comment upon it.
“Yes Mentor?” he replied, his face an unmoving mask.
“Could you do me a favor? It involves magic.” she asked, all in a rush.
“What do you have in mind?” he replied, interested.
“Do you have the ability to tell if someone has any Magical Aptitude?” she asked, not making eye contact.
“I think I begin to understand what you are getting at. I take it that you wish to find out if you yourself have anything those lines?” Tia nodded.
“Yes!” she replied, a little quickly. “I could pay you if you like!” she continued.
“That is not necessary, Helvetia.” He replied shaking his head and waving his hand. “If it turns out that you do indeed have an aptitude, you would need your funds to apply for an apprenticeship.” Tia drew herself back at that statement. She had never encountered that reaction from a Majin before.
“It is approximately mid to late afternoon. How thorough a check would you care for me to conduct?” he asked patiently.
“As thorough as you can!” Tia replied anxiously, eager to begin. In response, Arawn looked over his shoulder and found a chair, he then sat down and thought about it, as his eyes darted to and fro around his living/working area.
“Oh rough guess, it might take me three to four hours. Is that too long for now?” he asked, focusing on her with his right eye.
Tia readily agreed, stating that she had until the next morning open. Arawn then asked her, her motivation. She replied, that her father was a minor Majin with the ability to cast magic without preparation. He had always told her that such talents as he had, had run in his family. But, try as she might while growing up, she’d never been able to reproduce those talents.
“Ah!” Arawn replied smiling as he got to his feet and began making preparations. “That makes sense after all.”
“How so?” Tia asked, as Arawn had her stand in a cleared spot. He produced a piece of chalk and got down onto his hands and knees. He then began tracing a number of sigils and runes upon the floor, surrounding her, explaining all the while.
“It makes sense in that, many if not all Majin’s powers are hereditary.” He said looking up, and making eye contact with her temporarily. “Often the talents inherent in a bloodline, might skip a generation all together. Sometimes they breed true. All too often, familial magic ability has proven to be gender specific.” Arawn noticed Tia’s questioning look, and then explained.
“Take Dragons for example.” He began, still tracing out the runes on the floor. Tia began to fidget and tried to move herself to match and keep him with eyeshot. Arawn noticed her doing so, and indicated that it would be best if she remained still. She did so with reluctance.
“Dragons have the ability to form stone as if it were mud. They can shape it and form it to do many things that the original untouched stone, was never able to do. But!” he paused as he erased one unique rune with a sweeping of his fingers, and then remade it into a correct one.
“That ability is only available to male Dragons.” He finished.
“That’s hardly fair!” Tia complained. Arawn stood up and spread his hands.
“I agree, but I am not the designer of such. If you have any complaints concerning that, I would recommend that you submit them to the Original Chief God, or perhaps the Great Maker.” He replied saucily, circling Tia as he checked his chalk-work.
“Who is the Great Maker?” Tia asked, curious. Arawn looked over at her and smiled.
“The One who created Everything: The Multiverse, the manifold Realities that are often referred to as Shadows. Life, Death, Light, Dark, Law, Disorder,…” he numbered off.
“Stop, stop, Arawn! You’re making my head hurt! What does all of that have to do with Magic?” Tia cried, confused. Arawn stopped his checks and began to waving his hands in an undecipherable rhythm that Tia couldn’t quite comprehend.
“I will in explain in a bit, right now I am beginning my scans.” He replied, as began chanting for a several seconds. After a bit, he stopped and looked over at Tia who had been waiting patiently the entire while.
“Scans initiated, we now have a while to discuss.” He replied taking in a cleansing breath, and sat himself down onto a nearby chair, across the runic circle from Tia.
“It has everything to do with Magic.” Arawn yawned tiredly. “Magic is Reality. Reality itself is governed by Magic in all of its forms and permutations. This means that everything that is in existence in a particular world, is governed by a set of Magical Laws.”
“So how does that translate to my father’s ability to use magic?” Tia asked, confused once more.
“What is your Father’s family name?” Arawn asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“XXXX.” Tia replied.
“Very well then Tia, what this means, is that in this world the Family named XXXX, has the ability to utilize Magic, to a certain extent.”
“But there are other families that don’t have that ability. Why? How? Wait! Let me guess. Magic?” she asked, her lips scrunching together. Arawn nodded.
“But how can one tell those Laws even exist? Where are they?” Tia exclaimed, frustrated. Arawn sighed, and thought about it, until finally.
“The best way to explain it, is that everything that exists has a coded sequence of laws and instructions contained within it. This coded sequence, governs many aspects of the item or creature in question. For living creatures, this coded sequence is called: Genetics.” Tia blinked, confused.
“Jah-Neh-Ticks?” she replied, intoning back the syllables. Arawn nodded.
“This where it will become even more confusing. My apologies.” He added seeing the look on Tia’s face.
“The Genetics for a creature that is alive, or has been alive, are part of the creature, but they also govern the creature’s traits. Traits such as: hair color, height, weight, gender, so on and so on. Magic use ability, is one of those governed traits.”
“Wait! You’re making it sound as if a living creature is akin to a Teleportation Platform! It too has a set of instructions that govern what it can and cannot do!” Tia replied, as a light went on behind her eyes.
“Precisely! But, unlike a Platform, living creatures have a phenomenally much more complex existence, and an even more complex set of instructions governing them. This is one reason, why my scans take so long to run.”
“You’re running a diagnostic on me?”
“Ohhhh, ummm, essentially, yes.” Arawn replied, making a duck face and bobbing his head left and right. “You are probably not aware of it, but my scans also include a testing of a number of magical use abilities. A whole battery of them. It remains to be seen, which ones you have.”
And so the conversation went, for another hour and a half. Helvetia tendered a question, and Arawn patiently answered as best he could. Too often, Tia asked him a personal question, whereupon he did his best to evade them, sometimes resorting to outright lies.
‘There are some things you need not know right now Helvetia.’ He decided to himself. His reasoning being at the time.
Tia, on the other hand immediately noted each and every time he lied. It was one family ability, that she never let on to anyone else.
Until finally, Arawn was alerted to his magical scanning’s completion. Quickly, he swiftly examined the readings. Tia waited anxiously for the results. What she saw on his face, made her already cold blood, run even colder.
“Tia,” he began, frowning. Tia got a sinking feeling. “Even though you have a number of genetic markers indicating that you have a potential ability to use magic. They are not enough to indicate an ability to summon and manipulate it. In short, your blood-line is lacking in the necessary key sequences for you to do so. I am sorry.” He finished. Tia could tell then that he was telling the truth about it all. Even so, it didn’t prevent the momentary pang of disappointment.
Then a thought occurred to her.
“I don’t suppose that you could, maybe, ‘insert’ some of those necessary sequences?” she asked, hopefully.
“I could Tia, if I knew what precisely those sequences were. The problem is, I do not know what would happen if I tried. There are too many variable to consider.” He sighed, trying to explain.
“Wait, what would happen if say,… I decided to take a random Magi-tech component from somewhere else, and inserted it into the working parts of Teleportation Platform?” Arawn noticed the horrified expression on Tia’s face then. He had his answer.
“Precisely Tia. A catastrophe! I am sorry.” He replied.  Tia sighed heavily and was silent for a short while. Until finally, she gave off a half smile and spoke.
“Well, thank you for taking the time to check, Arawn. I appreciate it!” she stated, wilting a bit at the bad news. She perked up at a sudden thought.
“Arawn, I have an unusual question. Just before I knocked on your door, I could’ve sworn I heard you talking with other people. Yet when I came in, it was just you alone. Were you talking with someone?” she asked, curious.
“No Tia,” Arawn replied, shaking his head. “I was just talking with myself. It is an old habit I picked up in the days of my youth.” Tia gave him a funny look in response, but didn’t say anything more.
‘Yourself?’ she thought suspiciously. ‘Since when does a person talk with several voices at once?’ she silently mused.
Tia said spontaneously, “There is an Inn I like to frequent off-base. I was thinking…” she said, trying to act nonchalantly as she could then, “of going there this evening. Would you care to join me?” she asked in the most wheedling of tones she could muster.
“That does sound intriguing.” Arawn stated, musing. “But, would such be appropriate under the circumstances? Mentor and student, after all.” He pointed out.
“Well it could be, but until I get an answer concerning such a relationship, I’m going to assume that everything will be fine.” She smiled her jagged tooth smile. Arawn smiled back.
“Very well then, Mentor I will go. It has been some time since I have had the opportunity to enjoy an Inn. Just out of curiosity, what is the Inn’s name?”
“The Prancing Cadaver, it is an establishment that caters to Mamono of all kind.” She replied outwardly, smiling.
‘And it is an excellent spot to loosen tongues twisted with lies.’ Tia thought inwardly. ‘Whenever you talk about yourself Arawn, you prefer to lie. I wonder why.’
“Then let us go.” He replied, returning her smile.
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