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King Orleans stumbled through the debris, still in shock over what had happened, the devastation that had been wrought. He had seen the mortal’s corpses hanging from the limbs of trees, just like Mardi Gras beads would hang from electrical lines centuries later in those exact places, and began to worry about the fate of the other witches who were inside the room with him, and outside in the church. The only ones he knew were safe were Marigny, Jade and a few others. And they had told him of how hard it was in the open water, how quickly everyone had become separated. He knew there were many witches still lost in the swamp, and many others out searching for them. But, all in all, he did not know the whereabouts of most of his brood, most of the lives he was responsible for.
His mind was shrouded with haze. It was such a sudden and sound defeat, something he had not experienced since the Second Demon Conquests many centuries before, when he lost nearly all of his fighters in a single sneak attack that lasted all of an hour.
All of his responsibilities suddenly felt so overwhelming. He was not sure what he should do, what his next course of action should be. There was just so much to be done, even things that no one else knew of, secrets that he had been hiding for years. And he felt that everyone was already so occupied that this would be an opportune time to get those things over with, first, before anyone else was aware enough to care. He did not just want to disappear, though. He had to leave someone in charge while he was away and had seen Marigny a bit earlier, tending to Jade. So, with his decision made, he shook his head, clearing his mind as best he could, and began making his way over to where the church used to be.
That was where Marigny and Jade still were, sitting on the lone remaining pew where the church once stood. Jade sat with her head in her hands, fighting to bring her mind to a normal state. The storm had taken a mental effect on her in those last few hours, as they fought for survival in the raging waters of the flood. It was hard for her to push such a disaster to the back of her mind, but that was exactly what needed to be done if she wished to move forward with the plans she had already set into motion. She grappled with the ideas in her head, not sure how she should proceed next.
“Will you talk to me, yet?” Marigny asked her.
In response, Jade lifted her head up to look at him with sunken green eyes.
Marigny breathed a sigh of annoyance before releasing what had been weighing on his mind for the last six hours, “Jane never arrived with the stones last night,” he told her, “And something tells me that you know why.”
At last, she spoke, her voice full of exhaustion, “I know nothing, Marigny, not yet.”
The warwalker shook his head. For him the storm was already over and done with. He had already moved beyond it. Now all he worried about was moving forward, without the stones if he had to.
“Listen,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm, “Last night Orleans almost got us all killed… I understand that. I can see now that he may no longer be in his correct state of mind. I have never seen him like that before, never in all my years of knowing him.”
Jade turned her eyes towards him, keeping her head still. “So you finally see what must be done?” She asked, a slight smile turning up her lip.
Marigny raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “I see what you have been telling me, yes.” He said simply enough. “What must be done is still up for debate.”
“Not anymore,” Jade made clear with a soft chuckle, her nerves frayed by the guilt she was trying to ignore. “After the step I took last night, the action I chose to take alone, I have no choice now but to build a bridge to walk on, or else we will all fall. So at this point… you had better help me start building, or watch us both drop.”
“So you took the first step without even thinking of where to place the second?” Marigny asked curiously.
“As I told you, everything will fall into place.” Jade said, trying to sound reassuring.
“And has it?” He asked her, waiting a moment for her response, then telling her, “I remember what you last said about things ‘falling into place’.”
Jade didn’t say anything.
“I am still waiting.” He said after another few moments passed.
“As am I,” Jade said finally.
“Of course,” the warwalker exclaimed. “I knew you had done something last night. I knew by the look in your eyes. Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice revealed a bit of agitation.
“I left no traces leading back to me. I took this chance alone and I will suffer for it if I fail, but you could have had no part of it.” She reasoned with him. “I could not afford to have a partner in this.”
“Meaning what, I would have made a mistake?” Marigny asked defensively.
“Meaning you had much more allegiance to the victims, whereas I had cut those ties long ago.” She corrected him, finally turning to face him, showing her first signs of excitement in hours.
“So… why tell me now?” He asked her, finally revealing how much he already knew of her plan. “I know that you had Jane killed. And I know that Orleans is next. Yet you still believe me to be aligned with those that you seek to get rid of. So why even tell me at all?”
Jade took a moment before answering, looking deep into his eyes. “I tell you because if your eyes have not been opened by now, then I am afraid they never will be.” Her words cut through the warlock’s pride.
He went to say something, “My eyes have…” but Jade spoke before he could.
“I do not do this because I despise our king, your dear friend. I do this because you will be a better king than he.” She said honestly, still peering deeply into his dark brown eyes, trying to instill the sort of bravado he would need in the coming hours and days. “I do this because it is time for a change and he will not step down willingly, no different from the elders.”
Marigny took a deep breath and nodded his head as it inflated from her comment. Still, he tried to think logically. “I understand your sentiments, I truly do, and sincerely appreciate them, but I cannot help but wonder if this is the right time for such a change.” He admitted to her. “I tried something like this awhile back and… well…let’s just say I’ve been quiet ever since. Besides, you don’t even know your next course of action.”
“But I will! It will come to me! The opportunity will present itself in time! I know it!” Jade snapped at him. “This is just a very delicate situation, and not something that I can rush.”
“It is something that you cannot do at a moment’s notice either, but you already did that,” he tried to reason with her. “I understand that Orleans is not who he once was, but such a sudden change could very well cause another rift in our ranks.”
“No, not if this is done properly.” Jade spoke as if she had already thought it all out, which she had. “If done correctly, another sudden change, working together with this great disaster, could bring everyone closer together than ever before.”
Her voice was no longer rugged. It was clear now. She was no longer weighed down by the devastation the storm had brought. Her mind was once again becoming at ease.
“This was much more than just a physical disaster. It was a mental disaster, as well.” She continued. “And the psychological scars of this storm run much deeper than the ruts left within this mud. Everyone is searching for an answer right now, someone to show them the way. And with our leaders absent, falling prey to whatever unforeseen circumstance this storm created… we could rise up to take their place with rather relevant ease. It is a beautifully disgusting way to think, I know. It may be a bit evil, yes. But it is a necessary evil, one that will free us from our chains. I just need to wait for the opportunity to arise… and then I will know how to act.”
“This is absurd.” Marigny objected, shaking his head adamantly. “Now you just expect the next move to present itself, when before you wished to force it?”
“That is exactly what I expect.” Jade told him, supremely confident in her w
ords.
“Sure.” Marigny moaned wryly as he started to laugh, wondering if she was still in her right mind, but just as he did, a familiar voice called out to them from a short distance away.
“You two quit arguing and watch over everyone here, will you?!” The voice said. Marigny turned to see Orleans pointing out into the distance. “I am going out into the swamp! I may be awhile!” The king said.
Marigny just nodded and turned back to Jade. She was staring at Orleans intently, watching him walk out towards the swamp. Her eyes were wide and focused, fixated on him.
Marigny just shook his head. “You need to stop whatever it is you are thinking, right now.” He warned her. “We can do this at a later time.”
Jade, though, had not broken her gaze on Orleans for even a split second. She watched him find a pirogue and begin to pull it through the shin deep water towards the swamp line as he spoke to someone further off in the distance.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, repeating himself. “We need to focus on recovering from this storm right now. We can worry about him later.”
“We will recover in time, Marigny. This needs to happen now.” She said with her eyes still on Orleans, seeing things completely different than Marigny. “This needs to be over and done while everyone’s emotions are still weak. As cruel as it sounds, it is the only way.”
“You can’t really be thinking about doing this right now?!” Marigny raised his voice for the first time.
“I’m sorry, Marigny, but I already have!” Jade reminded him, raising hers as well. “The opportunity has presented itself, just as I said. So you can either start helping everyone around here, or stop me where I stand.”
She turned to look at the warlock for a moment, waiting for him to say something, to stand up and stop her.
In response, though, he just lowered his head, showing his submission.
“Good.” She said. “Now just stay here, smoke your pipe and calm down. I have everything under control.” And with that, she was gone, sliding off the pew and nonchalantly making her way over to the flooded swamp-line on the eastern edge of the settlement, slipping away without anyone seeing where she went. Marigny continued to shake his head as he looked down at the ground. No matter how badly he wanted it, this was a chance that he was not yet willing to take, but one that was being taken without him. After a moment, he stood up and began searching around in the mud, giving his old friend Orleans one last glance before he paddled out into the flooded lake that used to be their swamp.
“Where are you going?” The young witch Cabrini asked her king.
After a quick second of hesitation, he responded. “I am going to find our comrades.” He told her with shifting eyes.
She nodded her head respectfully as he turned. But before he left, she tried to ask him, “And if you don’t return… you want me to…?”
“Keep your mouth shut.” He told her as he looked around nervously. “There is no need for me to repeat myself. If something is wrong, you will know it… and I want you nowhere near it.”
He then walked over to the pirogue without another word and pushed it out into the swamp until the water got deep, then stepped up into it and paddled his way out into the darkened landscape, leaving everyone else behind to sort through the wreckage left behind by the storm, alone. And as one storm fizzled away and left the area, leaving behind a trail of catastrophe, another was just opening his eyes again.
But despite how wide they were, the vampire who called himself Reggio had already set forth a chain of events that simply could not be undone. With the young yellow haired witch at his side, eyes blinking open with blur, multiple forces were being dragged together by the gravity of his arrival. Jade was left following silently behind King Orleans while the brood of Saint Bernard began to gather in force outside of their mansion in the swamp, and as Marigny searched the mud for his lost box of sweet relief, the wizard Palmisano stood behind him, a look of utter disgust stained across his face as he turned his back on his old friend to walk off into the wrecked distance. And that left the two witches that were closest to Jane Saint Marie, Chelsia and Heather, searching the swamp for a way to reach the underground chambers, desperate to find out what had happened to their oldest friend.
And as they searched for a way in, the native witch Violet was approached by one of the groups sent to search the swamp for survivors.
“Who have you found?” She asked impatiently.
A tall warlock responded, “It’s one of the Ruloux brothers… he has survived.”
The tall warlock then stepped aside to reveal a face gashed by a deep Terra burn, one that only added to the look of anger stained across his face.
“Rylo,” Violet greeted him with excitement, “I believed you to be dead.”
The warlock couldn’t stop his lip from trembling as he looked at her, asking her behind clenched teeth, “As you believe my brothers to be, as well, I suppose?”
The elder native could only bow her head in regret.
“The Arken?” he asked, his face reddening with fury, and the nod of his elder’s head only boiled it further. “Then I wish his final breath to be my own, breathing life back into him so I can kill the draker again!”
Violet could only smile at him as she sympathized, “Well, it won’t be long before you get your chance,” and as she was left nodding her head in anticipation of the coming battle, my attention faded off towards the rising moon, watching it as it took its place elegantly within the night sky.
The coming days would be rough, sure, but they were also unavoidable. Their war had been brewing for some time, but his so dubbed Vampire Storm had arrived upon that mighty river’s crescent only a day before, and he had already swayed the future forever more.
--- End ---
About The Author/Extra Content
This may be the end of this particular entry, but it is only the beginning of this hidden history that has been uncovered. The Shroud of Ages was meant to keep this history a secret, like a blanket of shadow that no knowledge was supposed to escape from. The human race was supposed to keep on believing that they were the only intelligent creatures on this planet, that the Earth was their property, to mold and shape as they saw fit. And they were also supposed to keep on believing that witches were nothing more than a mockery of horror, laughable in the face of fear, with their stretched out noses and their big pointy hats, flying around on their broomsticks and cackling beneath the night sky.
Witches were meant to be laughed at, not feared, and the pop culture of our current day existence has done all too well at assuring nothing less. But it is my opinion that the history of Witchkind, as well as the history of all other supernatural creatures, is a history that deserves to be told. It deserves to live on into the future, to be passed down to whatever future generations care to learn about it, and that is exactly the reason I am writing this.
I am no author and this is no imagination.
This is all history. It’s just what happened, and I am nothing more than the narrator of those events witnessed, a conveyer of a past that was never meant to see the light of day. So whether my words are still being written as you read this, somewhere out there, or if they have since ceased some time ago, this story still goes on.
You have only just begun.