The moment he signed the contract was magical. He meant that literally and methaporically for when the blood dampened the parchment, a literal string of golden words burst forth from the scroll and bound their wrist, frcing them to utter promises as they looked in each other's eyes. Quite a memorable moment for a man whose only knowledge of magic was the death of the Tooth Fairy.
After that magical spectacle, his employer checked him in a four-star hotel and left him to his devices for a full day. Only calling him this afternoon to announce something.
●●●Courtyard●●●
"What do you call these again?" Garth asked of the man before him as his hands touched the esoteric sigil tracing the soft yet tensile material of the card. It looked like a normal card that belonged to a playing deck, but its back had a hypnotic pattern to it that, when seen from afar, seem to move on its own . He had never seen this kind of equipment before, granted that he hasn't spent too long a time in the world of the supernatural.
"That my, dear underling, is a Monster Banishing Sigil. Made from an ancient Wiccan magic, real hoodoo stuff, so don't tear it and don't play with it like that." The man warned he Garth began bending it.
"Oh, sorry." He gave it back, not foolish enough to mess with Hoodoo or piss of his new employer. "So, do we have a job?"
"No. not today." His employer started pulling out his brand new phone. "Today, you'll be going to Madagascar for a weekend workshop, where you'll be training your marksmanship, tracking skills, and general hunting abilities. Of course, the workshop tends to animal hunters, but I figure it should be applicable to the other types as well."
"Whoa, I heard of those. Costs like thousands of dollars just to get in." Garth's voice trembled in excitement.
'Who wouldn't? You get trained by army specialists to hunt and kill every living thing in a forest without consequences. It's the American Dream.' He thought before sending a message to the organizers of the workshop. "You'll be taking a 7:30 flight to LAX to Nampula. There will be a car waiting for you there to take you to Mozambique. Don't bring any guns or any hunter shit aboard. Also, try to learn as much as possible."
"I'll do it. But I need you to buy the weekend papers because I don't think they have comic strips in Madagascar." Garth easily agreed with but one silly request, to which he nodded. "How about you? What are you doing?"
"Oh, me? Well, I'm gonna talk to a witch." Irwin replied, a sketchy smile on his face. "A century old witch whose husband I indirectly killed. Fuck me."
●●●Third-Floor Hallway●●●
The synchronized steps of two people echoed across the dusty floor of the hallway. Unlike the second floor, the third one has but three doors; a thick metal door to the western wing, its hallway filled with diorama's the British isle's most famous tragedies; an oaken door to the eastern wing, the way littered with taxedermied animals, captured by the clan's old hunters; and to the northern wing, which the footsteps are heading to, lies a door made of dark material, rough and sharp to the eye. On its center was a wreath of thorn and red lilies adorned with small emeralds.
"Are you quite sure of this, Richard?" Asks Ella, no longer wearing her skimpy outfit, but a grey sweater she borrowed out of her master's closet. A fact, when made aware, brought a blush to her already rosy cheeks. "Even mother seldom attended to mistress Anastasia. Lord Wallace... he's her only contact for years and..."
"I know, Ella. But I didn't kill him. Archie merely protected us while we fended off the Ancestor." Irwin retorted, clearly knowing the possible ramification of their actions on that day. "But she needs to move on. We have bigger problems to worry about."
As Irwin finished his words, a sudden breeze assailed both of their bodies, eliciting gooseflesh on their exposed skins. They halted for a second before Irwin urged his companion on, already familiar with the games of supernatural entities and their love for the dramatic.
They soon stood before the wreathe-clad door as it ooze an uncomfortable feeling that pervaded their five senses and other more.
Ella could not help but gently locking Irwin's pinky finger with hers, clutching it tightly as if no less than tight would remove it from her grasp.
"It's alright. She's just a witch," Irwin placated, a gentle smile on his face that soon turned into a grimace. "Albeit a powerful one."
"That does not bode well for me, Richard." She admonished while placing her fist upon the surface of the door and knocking thrice. "Mistress Anastasia, master Richard, is here to see you."
For a moment, silence reigned in the hallway as the two waited for the inhabitant's response. Irwin furrowed his brows, nearly had half a mind to knock again, but was dissuaded as he placed himself on Anastasia's shoes. The man responsible for your husband's and ancestor's death comes knocking on your door, supplicating intent evident on the man's face. So, wait, he did.
After a few minutes of waiting and still no response from the woman behind the door, Irwin spoke to his companion. "I suppose I should wait alone, Ella. You've already done enough."
"Of course. Take care of yourself, Richard." Ella locked eyes with Irwin and could see the stubbornness within, so she smiled and nodded before returning to the lower manor.
After seeing Ellaise off, Irwin turned towards the door once more, though his expression had differed, taking a charming grin to it. "You know of my situation, yes?"
Although still no response came from within, Irwin continued. "Before Eleanor died, she mentioned the oncoming storm and of the Winchesters. And, based on my very problematic memories, you are a descendant of the Grand Coven... before the Men of Letters hunted them down. So, I ask you this, witch behind this door, would you be willing to open your abode and let me peruse you and your collection of arcane and supernatural knowledge in exchange for lending you an item of equal value?"
Only silence met the proposal, yet soon enough a lustrous voice, dripping with honey and silk, buzzed in his ears. "You treat me a babe? No artifact could equal the value of my tomes and self, foolish soul."
"Quite sure, aren't we?" Irwin smirked, producing the amulet from within his pockets and showing it off towards the wreath of the door. "Forged out of the Lady of the Great Earth's essence, stringed in divinity, enchanted by Nergal for one of her wife's devoted follower. Perfect conduit for magic, divine or otherwise."
A sultry moan titillated Irwin's senses, nearly doubling over in delight yet had the restraint to remember their relation. "We have a deal or not?"
"You ask of the possible, Distant traveller, however, I have yet to receive compensation for which harrowed my very existence? What say you?" The sultry voice spoke once more, growing closer and bolder with each sentence.
Irwin rolled his eyes, pocketing the amulet, much to the voice's dismay based on the moans she emitted. "Then an exchange of knowledge. One of the future."
"Hmmm. One should be wary of men who speak of the future as if in absolute." The voice said in a measured tone.
"Yet my knowledge of the past had tempted you to reconsider such a rule." Irwin replied.
"How far into the future?"
"How far do you want me to go?" He countered with a question of his own. Irwin waited for a few seconds before the sultry voice sighed and the door became ajar, for the witch had allowed him to enter her abode. "For better or worse."
●●●Witches' Abode●●●
Irwin stepped across the doorframe, fully entering the tiger's den. Darkness assailed his eyes with only a smattering of long candles lighting up chosen corners of the room. He stepped closer towards one of them when the door slammed, closing itself.
"Really? Scaring me into submission?" Irwin mocked with a confident smile as he hid his trembling hands beneath his jacket pocket. "Someone of your calibre resorting to cheap tricks? What would the Grand Coven say?"
A cackle emanated from deep within the abode, silvery and smooth like the voice before. "You speak as if the Coven still exists?"
"Not in full, they don't. But Olivette?" He smirked as he tilted his head, just saying enough to entice the woman cloaked in the darkness of the room. "But, then again, it's not like they invited you, did they?"
Boom!
A rumble of thunder rang in his ears, stinging his senses for a second before he clawed the Amulet in his pocket. The ringing subsided the moment he grabbed it, so he took it out and vowed to never let it go.
"Petty tricks." He mocked, though to his defense, he expected more from a century-old shaman. "Are you ready to do business or not?"
The voice merely sighed before agreeing to his request, the temptation of the amulet and his knowledge urge her far too much to her liking. "Lay your cards, Mortal."
"First, my name is Richard." Irwin snickered, for he knew she was too exuberant for his items. "Second. I don't do business with shadows and voices."
"You dare make demands of me? In thine own abode?" The voice took a harsher tone as flickers of blue light emanated from the candlelights.
"I do, Witch. Now, show yourself lest I conclude our business and our relation." Irwin threatened, baring his fangs at the unseen force. Though his inside nearly turned to mush from the display of power, he knew that once he showed fear and weakness, then Anastasia would never let him recover.
Anastasia hummed, receding the gloom and darkness of the room and revealing the rows of shelves filled with books and the tables bedecked with magical paraphernalias. "Happy?"
"Not yet." Irwin retorted, regretting it soon afterward as a silver thread stretched from within the edges of the room and coiled around his neck in but a flash. "Yep, too much. Sorry 'bout that. Just, you know, adrenaline."
His reply seemed to be deemed enough as its thread removed itself from his neck and return to its place. He coughed away the sore as he re-strategized, cursing himself for folding too soon after her intimidation.
"Now, the deal: Access to your shelves anytime I want and, in exchange, I'll lend, yes, just lend, the Amulet to you and answers to your questions regarding the future, lest I deem it too harmful to myself or my plans." He laid down his deal to the witch, clutching the amulet so tight that his palms reddened. "Any thoughts or violent reaction?"
"Your access to my wares is a bit much. Replace it." She retorted as they entered a negotiation.
"Fine. I'll restrict it to six hours a day, but you'll need to also include all your notes and conjectures on those books."
"Of course, but for the theoretical and historical tomes only."
"Nah, too little. Give me your notes on the Amulet once you're finished inspecting it."
"Ah, again on treating me like a babe weening upon his mother? Then you'll answer all my questions regarding the Winchesters."
Irwin flinched at her demand, almost rejecting it immediately. "Five questions about them, no more. In exchange, when I seek your help in magical cases-"
"Make it seven and I'll faithfully use my well of knowledge to attend to your miniscule problems." She replied in an almost haughty tone.
"Seven, it is." He agreed. "Now, unto the specifics of your inspections to the Amulet."
"I'll only start whenever you have no need of it at the moment, or if you're dumbly perusing my tomes." She stated her terms, a rather tame one. "But include the card hiding deep in your person."
Irwin instinctively grabbed the Monster Banishing Sigil through his suit. "Do you understand fairy magic?"
"Better than you." Replied Anastasia, breaking her sultry voice with a condescending one. "We have a deal, then?"
"Aye, though a deal made over mutual trust and familial bond." He assented reluctantly, stating his reason why. "As I doubt, any of the contracts on my hand would prove naught to capture your will."
"You speak the truth." She agreed to his statement." Now, let us begin the exchange." A wisp of red light flared bound the room, bouncing from a candle to candle until it reached Irwin's side. The red light shivered, folding in of itself before blooming into a spectacle of colors as it traced the air until it formed into a rainbow-colored lotus. "Place the items into the flower."
"I'd like to thank you for passing along the information. Allowed us to track and kill the werewolf." He employed his gratitude with a little bow as he complied unhesitantly, taking a sit on the nearby table. The lotus curled its leaves, enveloping the card and amulet, before flickering from candlelight to candlelight, returning whence it came. Glee impressed upon Irwin's face as he saw his first bit of magic in this new world, though he had to note that neither an incantation nor an explosion of light that would signify the use of magic had been seen by his naked eyes. A fact that added in to the peculiarity of the werewolf spawn unknowingly churned his stomach.
Different, he thought, what else is different?
"Now, for my end." The witch's voice brought him back from his musings. "Which tome would you start with?"
"Ah, yes. A suggestion from you would be dandy." He replied, wincing at his choice of words. "I may have... dabbled a bit in magic. Some beginner's guide, perhaps?"
The witch's sniffs echoed around the chamber, splattering a few flickers of candlelight along the way. "Deep magic, you have. Quite envious." Her voice echoed deeper, almost to a rumbling point.
Although his smirk grew wider and had his hands steepled over the back of his meck, a sense of crisis invaded the recess of his essence. His body instinctually fighting back the unshakeable aura the witch was emanating. "Enough, Anastasia." He ordered, deliberately calling upon her name. "I don't ask how much you know of my... current persona, and I trust you not to let your... elation undue pur current transactional relationship." He warned, almost cracking at the last sentence.
A hollow laugh escaped the witch, the chamber laughing alongside her. "Fine, keep your secrets and I have mine. But not all... I hope."
"Of course not. Now, the tome?"
"Ah, yes. I have no need of initiate's shallow tomes, but... I am quite fond of these." A nearby bookshelf trembled as a thick glossy tome slipped out and flew towards Irwin, his hands moving faster than his eye could see to catch the dusty tome. "Ædriç's Ignitium Compendium. A guide to summon and contain flame spirits. Although a bit dated and egotistical, it has a rather cute diagram of wisps."
He hummed, taking in her words while scrutinising off the tome. Its paperback cover were gilded and pristine, almost shining when dusted off. The pages themselves were thin, glossy even, containing diagrams, texts, and some cryptic notes taken by whomever owned it all these years. "Thank you, but, uh, I was thinking of more of, uh, how to, uh, cast spells?" He cleared his throat as he followed up on the request.
The witch's response to the revelation of his inability was silence, an unending awkward silence, broken only by his shifting of his feet and tapping of the book on his hands.
"You... do not... know?" She asks after a while, to which he replied with a shake of his head. "Unbelievable. Supreme magic at the tip of one's finger yet barely has an understanding of how to use it, even the simplest of charms." Irritation and understandable frustration escaped her tone.
"Yep." He admitted, a sheepish smile on his face. "But, uhm, don't let that tiny little fact about me, distract you from the well of knowledge you can scour from me."
"You do realize that you have just admitted that you have no magical abilities, theoritical or otherwise, in front of a witch whose sole purpose is to extract information out of your unprotected mind?" She asked, utterly curious.
"Oh, shit." Irwin's face fell as he dropped everything and tailed it back to the door, his hands fishing the other Monster Banishing Sigil in his pocket. Finding the door locked and trapped in the witch's abode, he turned around and faced the being with him. "I am not afraid of you. I cam banish you from this realm in but a few moments." He stated, more so to gain confidence than to intimidate. A card, unlike from a normal deck of card, its backside had three concentric circles moving perpendicular to each other in an almost hypnotic pattern, the front, facing the witch, had esoteric inscriptions embedded within its very material, flaring with green light, appeared on his outstretched hands.
"My, oh, my. Where ever did that utter confidence go?" Her mocking laughter reverberated around the room, added in the fact that her body was nowhere to be seen, had Irwin palpably sweating through his shirt. "One little spell, far traveller. Just one teeny spell and... wham... your mind is mine. Forever." Her voice reached every corner of the room, dropping the cryptic pattern in her speech.
Although he knew the power of the cards, at least he thinks so, the sheer confidence of the witch had taken a toll on his mentality. His mind was racing to figure out an escape where his body leaves in one piece, but he doubt he'd be leaving in at least two pieces.
'System, how do I use the sigil?' He asked his system as he stalled the witch. "Forcing any information out of me, magical means or otherwise, would degrade the quality of it. Even if I had a sudden and involuntary compulsion to diverge any and such, how would you know the context of said information? It's a lose-lose situation."
She merely cackled in response, receding her aura and allowing the fire within the candlelight to breathe normally once more. Light gave way to the darkness, revealing more of the room and seemingly boundless area and the end of it all was an enormous bed surrounded by a purple frilly canopy where a gaunt woman lay surrounded by a mountain of pillows, esoteric inscriptions of gaelic origins inscribed around her.
Although thin and bony, a certain charm inundated her person, carrying with it an indomitable aura. Her aquiline nose, full red lips, and sharp green eyes, complimented her flawless fair skin covered by a thin fabric over her head. A moan escaped her mouth as she sat up, revealing more of her thin skin and an almost unhealthy polish to her fingernails.
"You need not fear me. I have no need of your knowledge beyond those of self preservation. Mine and mine child." A genial smile appeared on her face, her eyes crinkling in turn. "Now, why don't you take a seat and we'll start with the basics of magic."
Tension and fear escaped his body as soon as he saw her frail body, remembering Richard's words to Garth when they first met and connecting the dots. He sighed, pocketing the card and walking towards the previous chair.
A laugh too escaped out of him as he sat down, trying hard not to look too hard at her fragile figure, which she sat through immediately.
"It is quite fine to look, whoever you are. I am, in fact, positively exuberant to see another person other than Wallace. He was rather grumpy and a bore to boot." A smile appeared on her face as she reminisced. "Now, why don't you tell me your name? Or rather, what should I call the soul inhabiting the body of my nephew?"
Irwin nodded reluctantly, bringing his hand to his mouth in contemplation before tilting his head and speaking. "My name is or was Irwin Bellios. I am, well, was a personal assistant to a developmental psychologist. I had a sister and a nephew. He's cute but vomits a lot. Hah. And, uh, I-I died in a, uh, rather embarrassing way. I don't know where I went, but it was dark and creepy and had like a three-hundred eyed cosmic entity that sometimes devours souls like me. Then, one day, or one night, someone threw me here. In this body when, I guess, Richard died from the werewolf attack. And I've just been coasting ever since." Chuckling at the end, wiping the tears in his eyes as he recounted his tale for the first time since coming on this world.
Anastasia hummed, a thoughtful look on her face as a finger traced the strands of hair stuck to sides of her face. "Sums up what I know and added that whole soul thing. So, that means other worlds with humans exist besides ours, barring, of course, the obvious ones."
"Yeah." He assented her assumption, now fully looking at her face. Irwin had to say that Anastasia looked very young; her skin and weight had made her look no more than someone in their late 20s. A certain 50s Hollywood starlet comes to mind whenever she moved about in her bed. That is, she looked like a cocaine addict and an anorexic without the harmful side effects on both the mind and the body. Quite hard to pull off, he thought, but didn't expect less of a witch. "So, w-where do we go from here?"
"Oh, from here on out, I will teach you the basics of magic, Irwin." She called out his real name in her sultry tone.
'I think she's doing it involuntarily,' He rationalized as butterflies fluttered around her stomach but her words brought more joy. "Oh, for real? Thanks." He stood from his seat and moved closer with Anastasia urging her on.
"Now, there are three types of magical practitioners classified by the Grand Coven, that is, before their utter destruction a few hundred years ago. The Borrowers- wait? Are you not taking notes?" She began her lecture, hand in the air, but stopped once she noticed Irwin's empty hands.
"What? Oh, well, I don't need it." He replied, bragging a bit to an over century-old witch."Even back then, I kinda like remember all my lectures."
"And can you recant your job before you came here?" She asked with a pointed tone, a stern glare on her face.
Irwin winced, embarrassingly scratching his head and looking for a pad to write on. One appeared on thin air in front of him, which he grabbed and began listening again.
She cleared her throat and resumed her lecture. "Now, listen carefully. Once you hear this, then you'll never unhear it..."
●●●Smoking Area, LAX●●●
It took until Thursday evening for Garth to gather all his belongings as he drove back and forth to the mid-west. Even though it will only be a weeklong excursion, the hunter had packed almost five pounds of clothes and other garments, much to Irwin's frustration.
The frustrated latter was now scouring his employee's luggage in the airport's smoking area, clothes strewn about the curb. "W-What's this? Why do you have a Garfield Almanac?" He asks, flailing the book about.
"Well, what if they don't have it in Mozambique?" Garth asked, defending himself. "It's only one book. Not like I stuffed in three colts."
"It's only going to be one week- Wait, why did you specify three colts?" Irwin, with renewed fervor, unfurled a much heavier bag and saw the guns deep inside. "I have no words. No words."
"Well, you're speaking."
"Shut up. You can't bring this, Garth. The TSA might be shit at their job, but they're still going to see this and arrest you. We can't have that." Irwin explained, retaining a calmer demeanor. Removing his suit jacket and enveloping the gun with it.
"Why don't you just fly me there with your private jet? Aren't you rich?" Garth suggested.
"No, Garth. Also, we're not that rich." Irwin rejected immediately. "And I asked Archie to use it, but he said no."
[...Flight 222X00 To Nampula...]
Irwin sighed once he heard the call, already tired from the shenanigans of his companion yet glad to have him under his employ. He knew of Garth's talent and drive, he just needed much training and a better mindset.
"I'll see you on Monday, Garth. By then, I'll probably have a case for us." He reminded Garth, as excitement beset him. "I'm pretty stoked about it."
"Well, alright. Thanks for everything. Now give me a hug." Garth smiled, arms wide as he enveloped Irwin in a warm embrace.
Irwin struggled for a second before succumbing to it. "Fine. Only this once."