Chereads / Ace of Spades / Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven

When a strange tree man from an alternate world tells you that your good luck is finally kicking in, one usually feels a sense of awkwardness mixed with confusion with a dash of excitement. Shortly after our exchange I had dried my eyes and returned to the cottage. The smell of roses mixed with the marijuana smell and I cracked a smile. Anne was burning incense and turned to me.

"You seemed to dislike the smell of weed, so I'm trying to get rid of the smell." She sat down on the couch and patted next to her for me to join. I took my place beside her, curling up slightly as Gressil laid at my feet.

"So, tell me about yourself." She grinned and crossed her legs at the ankle. I slowly began to open to the girl. I avoided more sensitive topics, and relayed more information of the events of the past three days. A soon as Michael's name passed my lips Anne perked up.

"That cutie? Man, have I heard things about him." She bit her lips and looked dreamily at the ceiling.

"Such as?"

"You're a virgin, right?" I nodded at her odd inquiry and she just giggled. My face went ablaze with her question as her subliminal message slowly sunk in. She nodded as I started laughing nervously and buried my face in my hands.

"I heard he's good; really good. My one friend Isa told him that his--" I waved my arms violently cutting her off.

"Stop! Stop!" I screamed. Anne roared with laughter and I quickly joined her howl.

"I'm just saying that I heard he's bigger than Godrich and he's--"

"I don't need to know this!" I cried, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. Anne just grabbed my shoulder and stared at me seriously.

"Ride him into the sunset." She said bluntly. I began hyperventilating from laughter, clutching my stomach in pain. For the next hour or so we swapped inappropriate jokes, ones that were not meant for people like me that Anne defined as having the quality of 'innocent ears'. I told her everything in that time, and I learned a little about Anne as well. The fiery and sassy woman before me was in fact my age, and an advanced druid. Her significant other Godrich was a Nephilim and they had started dating a year prior to my arrival. I nodded and listened to her, intrigued by her knowledge of herbs and nature as she waved her hands around wildly as she spoke.

"It baffles me that you think that Michael is nice though." She muttered, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" I called out, not moving from my place on the couch. She came back seconds later with two glasses full off a dark fizzy liquid. She handed one to me and took a sip from her glass.

"Well from personal experience and stories I've heard, he seems like the average cold hearted jackass. I'm not even kidding, when we were younger he beat the shit out of Lilith's older brother for touching his jacket. Some girls say that he had a one night stand with them, or just used them for sex. He just hasn't been known for being a good kid." Seconds after she said that there was a loud knock at the door and my phone vibrated.

I'm here to pick you up Peanut!

"Stripper gram!" Michael screamed in a feminine voice on the other side of the door.

"He's like fucking Beetlejuice, we said his name too many times." Anne sighed.

"Come in!" Michael opened the door and leaned seductively on the door frame.

"My name is Ginger Vitis. Don't worry about any cavities you may get, I'll fill them for you." He purred and shook his hips. I was taking a sip of my cola and snorted, the bubbles running out of my nose. It burned as it did so, and some droplets of pop choked me.

"More like Sergeant Sixty-Nine." Anne said monotonously. I was losing it on the couch, pounding my hand against the leather for support. She eyes Michael carefully as he skipped over to me.

"Maybe I was wrong," She whispered. I glanced at her, praying that the stories she had heard about Michael were false. Michael leaned in front of me and grabbed my knees so we were eye level.

"Wrong about what?" Michael asked, cocking his head to the side.

"That you have a penis." She took another sip. He wore a condescending frown and nodded,

"Fair enough," He gazed down at me with a thoughtful twinkle in his eye, "Lyon told me you would be here." I seemed to detect a bit of nervous energy coiling in his hands as they gripped my kneecaps. My expression went to that of concern as my eyes softened and my mouth hung open in a small frown. The words the Leshy had spoken earlier rung through my head; and like a chain reaction my face burned a deep scarlet.

"Peanut, are you feeling okay?" Michael rested his forehead against mine to test my temperature, "You're very warm. Do you have a fever?" I half expected smoke to roll off my face at his proximity. I heard the sound of skin slapping skin and I glanced to Anne. She had slapped her chest, her chin rolling back to her neck as she looked at that.

"I ship it like FedEx," She croaked with her eyes as wide as dinner plates. Michael's face remained as blank as stone as he stood up. He shot Anne a wink before returning his attention to me and helping me stand.

"I will be stealing her. Thank you for hanging out with Peanut Anne, give Godrich my regards." He smiled and began to lead me out the door.

"Salayria, come back sometime. We need to talk." I grinned at my newfound friends remark and waved her goodbye.

"Well that was abrupt," I sighed as we began making our way to the woods. My head turned to the willow that was waving in the wind, and saw the long wooden hand of the Leshy waving me goodbye. My fingers danced in a wave as well as Michael and I carried on with our journey.

"I know, but I guess I'm just greedy with you." My heart pounded loud in my chest as his fingers laced through mine. Gressil pounced in front of us and tried to eat one of the magic balls floating around the still air.

"So what did your brother need to talk to you about?" Michael stiffened at my question. I prayed that I had not crossed a serious boundary as his hand tightened around mine.

"Nothing important. Just a personal issue we faced when we were younger finally resolved." I felt like he was not lying, but I also felt like that was not the whole truth as well. Instead of prodding him for further information I let the growing silence consume us.

"I heard what Anne said about me," He whispered under his breath. My hair shot up on end, beads of sweat forming on my brow. The unspoken question hung in the foliage until Michael let loose a sigh of despair.

"They're true."

"Why?" Michael hummed in bemusement, urging me to elaborate.

"Why would you use people like that?" My soul felt like it was falling from my body and onto the floor as I held back tears. Michael stopped walking and took my hand gently, pressing it against his pectoral right above his heart. I felt his rapid heartbeat under my fingertips, a sign that he was alive.

"I use to not care. I didn't care about anyone but my family. I didn't care about Carina. I didn't care about Gabriel. I didn't care about Lyon. I didn't care about other people's feelings or views; all I cared about was self gratification and what was mine. That all changed when--" He caught himself from saying something, choking on his words. He looked like he was in the middle of a mental battle and he released my hand.

"It changed when...it doesn't matter when it changed. What does matter is that I'm not the person anymore. The only exception to that is Mary-Anne." I believed him. He looked like he was physically in pain as he spoke. His eyes were transfixed on me, sometimes shifting to the faerie lights dancing around us like stars. His hands came to rest on my face, his thumb resting on my bottom lip. He leaned down to me and that's when my heart felt like it was going to explode out my chest. His lips ghosted over mine and I could feel his hot breath fanning my face. I knew what was coming next and my hands itched in anticipation. I had no idea what to do, where to put my hands nor did I possess any knowledge of what to do when one is kissed. While my mind raced from this unexpected turn of event, Michael pressed his soft lips…

… on my forehead. My eyes blinked in surprise, dumbfounded at the result. He parted from my forehead, resting his against the warm mark he left and closing his eyes. My stomach was doing somersaults in my body as anxiety set in.

What just happened? Did I do something wrong? Oh God, what if my breath smelled bad? These thoughts raced through my mind as Michael stayed silent. He cracked one eyes open and stared at my own. A small smirk graced his lips as he examined my face. He pulled away from me, and started to walk again. I began sputtering in shock, Gressil doing figure eights around my legs.

"Come on Peanut, we don't have all day!" He chirped, as if nothing had happened at all.

The rest of the walk was coated in silence as Michael lead me out of the forest and back into town. He continued leading me down the decrepit side of town and stopped at a large spiraling tower. It looked like something out of a fairy tale laid out before me, with glowing windows and a cold exterior.

"A friend of mine called in a favour. He's going to test to see if you really are a Star-Blood or not." Michael's giddy voice tore through our silence as he peered down at me. My face was still blotched with red and I avoided eye contact. He reached out and dragged his fingertips down the skin of my cheek, causing me to shiver at the contact.

"I'll pick you up later." I started twitching out of nerves as I walked away from Michael.

"We'll also get you checked out for Turrets after." He mused. I automatically reached out and slapped him on the arm as I walked by him.

"I don't have Turret's," I trotted up the the large door and hesitantly knocked. I listened for Michael's footsteps leaving as the door swung open to reveal a pastel purple head and a electric blue one.

"Lilith?" I gasped as my purple-haired companion launched herself at me with a squeal. The boy beside her looked like an older male version of her, and he nodded to me. The tattoos on his neck blurred and started to become clear.

"You must be Lark." I grinned, holding my hand out to him for a shake.

"My baby sister must have talked about me. What did she say?" He chuckled, grasping my hand firmly.

"I never said anything." Lilith said suspiciously, eying me with curiosity. I pointed to my neck as a clue.

"It's branded on your neck. Apparently you're also a warlock? Does that sound right?" Lark's eyes sparkled in wonder as he nodded.

"But don't get mages and warlocks mixed up," Lilith muttered, crossing her arms in annoyance and Lark jumped on the spot. I gave her a perplexed look, and she started boiling with annoyance.

"Warlocks summon demons and use dark magic while mages use elemental magic." She sounded irritated for having to explain this concept to me.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind." I chuckled nervously, afraid that I would royally piss off Lilith.

"Now come in, we have much to tell you." Lark grabbed my wrist, and began walking me up what appeared to be an endless flight of spiraling stairs.

"As you may know there are huge difference between Demonic and Angelic Guardians. Other than culture, the biggest difference is that one uses magic and the other uses melee weapons." Lilith's words made me feel like I was in the middle of a game of World of Warcraft.

"Angelic Guardians are born with one kind of magic. They have the ability to forge their own weapon later on in life, that is imbued with a piece of their soul. Their weapon reflects their personality. For example, a cheerful and kind Guardian's weapon would be brighter and full of surprises. On the other hand, a dark and angry person's weapons would be deadly and sharp. Maybe a little dull in colour." My mind wandered back to Michael's own weapon I had only seen once. It was bright and was appeared to be hollow and brimming with energy. Lark continued his lecture as we climbed.

"There is a rare kind of Guardian on other side. The Archangel Guardians, and the Star-Bloods. Archangels-- like your friends Michael and Gabriel-- are extremely powerful but are known to lack any positive emotions," My back got up on that sentence, "And a Star-Blood is a Cambion with the blood of one of the Nine Princes of Hell. There's Belphegor, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Mammon, Abaddon, Asmodeus, Berith, Sonnillien, and Verrine. The King of Hell is obviously Lucifer."

"Okay, so if I'm a Star-Blood who are the others?" My breath was starting to get ragged from the stairs. The duo went silent as we reached the landing.

"There are no Star-Bloods. Not anymore." Lark walked through the door on the top of the landing. It was a large dark room filled with spray painted pentagrams, open books and candles.

"What do you mean?" I demanded and followed them into the room.

"I mean that they were all killed. Murdered by their fellow Guardians." My stomach felt like a block of concrete had just replaced it.

"They… they were…" I was at a loss for words as Lark and Lilith say down on wooden chairs with a hidden language scrawled on them.

"A long time ago, the Angelic Guardian's believed that they were a threat. It was like our own version of the Salem witch trials. They tracked every single one down, and murdered them. When the Princes found out, they were furious. They transformed every Guardian who took part in the eradication into what we call a Lost One. An immortal monster, who hunt and destroy any Guardian as revenge." I felt my legs tremble from nerves and I almost collapsed.

"So, how do you know that I'm the real thing?" I gulped, panic and dismay setting into my intestines. Lilith cracked a sympathetic smile and stood up.

"The Nine Princes only had three children at one time. Each child was given a special weapon. One of the nine Deceiving Bracelets, forged from the blood and bone of Pythius spirits to veil the wearer into a different shape was an option. There was nine Grimoire of the Damned, which held ancient and powerful spells that no other Guardian could use. It was rumoured that there was a spell for creating the elixir of life, or raising the dead. The final option was one of the nine decks of Cursed Cards. Very much like the ones that you have." My hand dug into my pocket and clutched them protectively.

"Are you going to kill me?" I pressed myself against the closed door, and took my cards out. I held them for dear life as if they were an antidote to a poison I had consumed. Before anyone could move, the cards began to shake violently in my hands. Two cards jolted out, bumping into each other. The Reaper, and a card that I did not recognize called the Harlequin.

"MOVE IT YOU BAG OF BONES!" The Harlequin seemed to scream. Like a scene from the grudge, the two figures from the cards crawled out and stood before me protectively. The Reaper looked like the stereotypical Grim Reaper, but the Trickster was an interesting character. It was a girl an extremely pale girl wearing a large red and gold harlequin cap, the gold bells at the end of the cap's triangular shoots ringing slightly. Her slender body was clad in a red and black checkered corset, with golden gears and gems decorating the fabric. A black bolero jacket with puffy shoulders attached to a pair of elbow length black and white striped gloves by a strap of leather. Her lower body was covered by a tutu of black and red, and a pair of black stockings that connected to her tutu. The look was complete by her red and gold jester's shoes. Her face was nothing more than a mask of white, with two gold eyes and painted black lips. A red star resided over her left eyebrow and a black tear dripped under the right eye. The two glanced back at me and turned back to my terrified hosts.

"We sensed that you felt endangered," Reaper whispered, readying his scythe.

"We let our last mistress down, we won't let you down as well." Harlequin hissed, standing tall and proud.

"So it's true," Lark muttered in dull amazement. "You are a Star-Blood." I ducked behind my protector, grabbing the stray cards from off the floor.

"We're not going to hurt her! We just wanted to ask her to summon something!" Lilith raised her arms defensively. Reaper and Harlequin looked to me for guidance while all I could do was gulp down my nerves. Lilith's eyes pleaded with me, and picked at my hardened panic. I nodded to her, gingerly walking in front of my protectors.

"You want me to what?" I asked, sticking close to my guardians. They gave me a quick explanation that while I could read the demonic language because of my heritage, they could not. To summon a demon, one must say the incantation with the demons name at least in Latin or the demon language. Lark was advanced, and could name his sponsor-- the sponsor being what Prince of Hell works for the individual-- and most demon kinds in the old language and had mastered Latin. He stood before a pentagram, cracking his neck as he prepared for a demonstration. He raised his hands in the air and the fire of the candles rose with him. Reaper stepped closer to me, holding me back from the scene.

"Under the name of Asmodeus, I summon you from the pit of Hell. Rise and obey, ignis Goblin." The pentagram began to burn with a blue light, and a dark pit in the middle began to open up. It was like the earth was trying to swallow the paint. A loud rumbling sound followed, and with a burst of ember a tiny red man stood there. He was about as tall as half of my shin, with little horns and sharp talons. It hissed at Lark before he snapped his fingers and motioned for me to try. The goblin disappeared, and a sense of wonderment took me over.

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can! Trust me." I gulped and took a step before the symbol. I looked at the faces around me for support, before closing me eyes.

If I have magic in me, it may be somewhere I can reach it, I thought to myself. I remembered what Michael told me about the other night on how I started hissing another language and my hair turned white.

I have to be able to do it on command, I cursed myself inwardly as I searched my body for magic. I took deep breaths as I tried to focus on why the magic I should be able to control came out that time. I remembered falling out the window, and the pain racking my body. I was still sore from that night, and I felt a spark of power surge through me.

Danger, it finally occurred to me. I pictured myself in a terrible danger and my scalp began to feel cold. I heard a gasp from Lilith and Lark. The power surging through me was mediocre at best. So I thought about any of my friends, being chased through the darkened hallways of my school. I felt a huge boot, and now the hair on my face felt like icicles. The coolness has not reached the end of my hair, so this time I thought about Michael. That's when I felt like a supernova exploded in my chest, a burning sensation pulsed through my veins. I felt like I was on fire and receiving frostbite simultaneously. I opened my eyes, and every detail of the wood around me seemed to intensify and sharpen. I could see every crack and crevice in the floorboards, every streak of paint and every speck of dust on the leather bound books.The hair that blew by my face was pure white and lines of text danced along my skin. The candlelight began to flicker and dim the longer I stood there, as if my very existence was sucking the light and warmth from the world. I knew the words that needed to be said, and I allowed my voice to do the rest.

"Under the name of my father, I summon you from the pit of Hell. Rise and obey, fire goblin." What seemed like normal words coming from my mouth, actually sounded like a jumble of hisses and syllables. Instead of the slow process like what happened with Lark the symbol burst into a raging inferno of golden fire. My face was blasted with an intense heat as the fire died. Two glowing eyes loomed in the flames and peered down at me.

"Who in the fuck summoned me to this shit-hole?" The voice barked from the smoldering embers. This fire goblin was significantly larger than the one Lark summoned. He was slightly shorter than me, his horns curled like a goat and his body was slender and aged with scars. It had a swaying tail with a blue flame dancing on the end, and his skin was a tinged blue slightly. I grinned in shock at the size and appearance of this goblin before me while Lark just started screaming in excitement. I gurgled slightly, unsure of what exactly to say in this situation.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Um, my name's Salayria. I'm in advanced placement." I babbled in anxiety, wanting to gouge out my eyes at my answer.

"That's a big goblin," Lilith said in awe. The goblin spun to her and flicked out his blue tongue.

"What did you just say you purple haired poodle?" He hissed, stomping his feet in anger. His eyes scanned my arms to see the writing wriggling around my skin before resting on my hand. His eyes widened in shock before he kneeled on the floor.

"Milady please forgive my rudeness just now, I did not realize who you were!" He started bowing and my awkwardness grew.

"Yeah, no. Stop doing that please." I chuckled nervously while I shrunk back.

"Yes Milady!" He scrambled up to his feet standing straighter than a ruler.

"Just call me Salayria and treat me how you would anyone else. Please," I begged. I was absolutely loathing this attention and was desperately trying to push the spotlight off me. He relaxed slightly but was still acting very formal around me.

"My name is Ignis, Mil-- Salayria." He caught himself before calling me 'Milady' and fighting the urge to bow.

"It is lovely to meet you," I said nervously and waved slightly. My eyes were drawn the the squiggles on my arms that began to gradually disappear. I saw some of the white fade, leaving more snowy hair than I possessed before.

"Okay, so what the hell is this stuff on my arms?" I sighed in annoyance. I had started getting more annoyed my incidents like magical tattoos and talking monsters rather than wonderment and fear.

"That, I have never had the priviledge to know. Only the dead can tell you that." Ignis slowly began to fade before turning to a pile of ash. My magic had depleted itself with my lack of focus and I stared at my skin in interest.

"I'm getting really sick and tired of all this mystical shiznick going on lately." I sunk to the floor in dismay, racking my brain in confusion. To discover the answer to the million questions pouring through my cranium I had to interrogate the dead. I did not know if that was even possible, but I refused to give up. I had worked this hard to fit into this world of wonder and majesty; I was not going to back down now.