The Strangers

Strangers

Patrick Roberts

Copyright 2013 by Patrick Roberts

Smashwords Edition

Prologue

Many millennia ago, many wars were fought between the world of the supernatural and the world of the mortals, culminating in one final epic war that left both worlds in disarray.

When the war started the mortals were very aware of their deficiency against such immensely powerful beings and called upon the Gods in an attempt to beat back the forces of evil. The war took place in many worlds and led to ruin within the both worlds. The humans inevitably won, with much help.

The Gods smiled in their favor and rescued them from a fate worse than death. But the war could not be won without one person: The First Witch.

Knowing the dire consequences, the First Witch betrayed the supernatural beings, seeing the error in their bid to take the world for themselves.

Once the war was over, the First Witch ascended to the level of Godhood. The supernatural creatures fled from the sight of mortals, lurking in the shadows until it was safe to surface again. They only surfaced now and again, and only in assassination attempts on the First Witch. These attempts caused her to disappear from history.

Before she disappeared, she prophesized another great war; this war would be the true Apocalypse of the mortal world. It would be the end of all she’d ever known.

In dire straits, she also saw one who would come after her time to lead them into the battle. This savior would lead the world into a revolution the likes the world has never seen. Many at her side sought to understand the prediction. After she predicted this event and before she could disappear, she was murdered. She died, but not without passing on the prophecy she had foreseen in her own blood.

Peyton Richards wrung his sweaty palms as he entered his principal’s office.

He’d scarcely been there. In his senior year, he felt more than prepared for the world that was high school. He held a 3.5 GPA and had been accepted to college a year earlier than most kids even applied. He’d also discovered a talent he’d never considered he, or anyone in the real world, would have.

You see, some time ago, he had inadvertently figured out that he was a male witch. He’d called himself a warlock, a wizard and all other male equivalents, but had learned that these weren’t the same things. Warlocks sought power while wizards controlled all around them. Witches, however, manipulated the forces, which was what he could do.

He quickly learned as much about the dark side of magic in these few months than he’d learned in all his time in his whole school career.

The things he learned caused his life to change in so many dynamic ways: the secrecy, the loss and the overwhelming feeling of…guilt. His guilt was that he’d never felt more like himself, more proud and happy for himself, barring the losses he’d sustained.

He’d lost his two best friends, leaving him with only a mind-wiped best mortal and a recollection of the events he could barely remember.

As he walked into the light-filled office, that particular cluster of events became irrelevant. He’d been underwhelmed by this office more than once. The clutter made his feel very clean in comparison. The windows were always sparkly, though he’d never seen the janitor come in and he took note that the man should have invested in blinds.

As he was welcomed into the room with a handshake, he was nervously aware that his Principal, Irving Dagget’s face was full of tension. He walked silently to his desk and sat opposite Peyton.

Peyton looked around at his principal’s diplomas, pictures of his family and other principal-like memorabilia before landing on Dagget’s face again. Dagget seemed to be searching for something to say. Peyton did his best to stay pleasant while Dagget figured out what to say, but he was never the most patient person.

Dagget cleared his throat, I guess you’re wondering why I called you into my office. said Dagget with an almost forced smile.

If this is about Senior Ditch Day, I have a doctor’s note. And also, I really meant to be here…I just overslept…because of the doctor’s note.

This isn’t about that. Dagget said quickly. He leaned in, You’re a great student. You’re primed for college, something a great deal of these other students won’t know. It’s not surprising that you didn’t go unnoticed.

Unnoticed? What are you talking about, Mr. Dagget? Peyton asked carefully.

Before he could ask anything else, the door opened behind him and both men looked to the door to see a very well-dressed man in his late thirties. He had Auburn hair and round spectacles, causing Peyton to automatically assume he was British.

Hello, Peyton, The man said, causing Peyton to nod with satisfaction, I am Dr. Julian Margossi and I’m here to offer you… His head turned to Dagget, who fell asleep in his chair, "A chance to make a difference.

Peyton stared at his principal, and then back at Julian Margossi, who smiled to him. Peyton smiled to Julian, who held out his hand. Peyton immediately took it in good faith.

Chapter 0: Risen

Club Phlanax was club in the sleaziest part of the cozy little town named Witch’s Roane, Oklahoma where every being seemed to congregate in search of something they wanted.

The powerful and powerless came here all times of the night in hopes of finding something they should have just left alone. Phlanax was its own little version of this town, without the pretense.

The club’s location was just off Main Street which leads to the most undesirable part of the city. Though it was in the sleaziest area of the town, the club was anything but sleazy on the inside. It was owned by a powerful sorcerer named Odin. His name had caused him much grief in his life, but if they could only see him now: almost a thousand years into the future, living as a powerful sorcerer and doing whatever he pleased. His residence was set-up in a pocket dimension within the club’s cellar.

Odin could always be found in the main VIP Room. The VIP Room happened to look out onto the club with his well-paid body guards protecting the room. They weren’t the only protection he had. What would a powerful sorcerer be without some charms?

Besides, he would only be aware of the commotion if it were right in front of him, though. You see, the room was always filled with drugs, alcohol and women; fun of all sorts.

Odin had lived many lives and watched others live, with only their mortality to guide them. He pitied them. It was through watching others that he learned his biggest lessons in life.

For instant, He knew that mortals, especially young ones, were drawn towards the things they didn’t understand because they didn’t understand and, being only human, they wanted to understand so badly.

Older mortals tended to stay away from those same things because of the opposite reason: they fully understood by that time in their lives, from experience or watching others.

He’d seen many people pass through his doors and leave in varying states. They tended to be young and slightly damaged in differing ways.

He’d never seen a human that wasn’t damaged, but to be fair, he’d never seen any being without problems.

He’d watch teens come alone and leave with rather undesirable beings, of which the likes that he’d learned to stay away from hundreds of years ago.

He found only one thing most important these days…it was the most important thing in the world: The Apocalyptic Days; to be more specific, the ones that were quickly approaching.

Until now, the forces of good and evil had been gearing up for battle, but something changed. Destiny called its Chosen One sometime ago. The Chosen One was not only called, but he was here.

Odin. Do you feel it? His apprentice, Hopskin, asked. He was a very timid man in his mid-twenties with Auburn hair and a set of aqua eyes.

He had come to be in Odin’s care after Odin saw something within him. He still searched every day for whatever that something was because Odin would never say exactly what it was. He was secretive that way and Hopskin accepted that about his mentor.

Yes. It’s growing closer. Odin smiled, taking another swig of champagne.

You’re not worried? Hopskin asked with disbelief, I’m shaking. Literally. I have literal Goosebumps here.

Do not fear the fall. Fear what comes after it. Odin frowned, I’ve lived for centuries. I’ve seen a many a great things.

Shouldn’t we be doing something? Hopskin asked anxiously, Shouldn’t we be helping if we know?

Odin stared at him before downing the rest of his champagne and stumbling over to over to the window. He looked away from his protégé and out onto the dance floor.

"There must be something we could do! You once spoke of a Chosen One. One to save us. Hopskin said, Where is he or she?"

Odin chuckled, HE cannot save us from everything. He couldn’t even if he tried. His chuckles died down into a smirk, That’s the thing about Chosen Ones…

I cannot sit around and watch the world go to Hell! Hopskin said standing and walking to the window. He looked down on the club, "I can’t be one of them."

Odin laughed again, "It’s funny you say that. The Chosen One is one of them. He won’t be, not after everything he goes through. Poor bastard, he never had a choice." He said quickly.

You’re being vague and it makes me think that none of us have a choice. Hopskin said quietly, If this is the end, the true Apocalyptic Days, what can we do to stop it?

Odin walked over and poured a glass of wine, then walked over and handed the glass to Hopskin. He had lived many centuries and he knew many things. The thing he knew most was that he knew nothing for certain; life, like acts of magic, change every second. He also knew that loss was inevitable.

Sometimes, you can’t save everyone. Odin said with absolutely no sadness, Sometimes, you just can’t stop what’s supposed to happen.

Hopskin took a swig of the champagne, So, what are we supposed to do?

Survive. Odin said, looking out onto the club, "It’s what people do best."

Did you just say something good about people? Hopskin said nervously, looking to his mentor.

Odin sighed with a roll of his eyes, Thanks for ruining a moment here. I get one of those every fifty years and you just ruined that one. He exasperated.

As I walk through the humungous, dark cemetery all alone, the night air almost takes my breath away. It isn’t the best idea to be alone in a cemetery at night, especially in Witch’s Roane.

Well, I wasn’t alone, I ventured. It was a common misconception that one was alone in the darkness. This type of thing was common for me these days.

My life has come down to this: walking the length of a place for dead people and looking for any danger that might and certainly will pop up. As you can probably tell, my life is getting stranger by the minute.

Don’t judge me, please.

This town is crawling with danger and what I suspect is supernatural predators. The supernatural happened to like cemeteries. I can see why, cemeteries are usually quiet. The crypts and tombstones that populate this cemetery seem to hide away the things that one couldn’t quite but wanted to be forget. Most of the graves here are more than a hundreds of years old, a landmark.

This is lost on me. It’s a hunting ground now.

At eighteen, I’m well aware of the severity of my mistakes. Julian made them abundantly clear from the moment I agreed to go with him and he reminded me every other moment.

I wasn’t what anyone expected at eighteen. Someone with an exorbitant mount of power (which I never see) is supposed to be Caucasian, serious, straight and physically imposing. I, on the other hand, was five feet, nine inches of sarcasm and unrelenting hormones. I’m also African American; this in no way helps when you’re also homosexual. I preferred not to put myself into either box because I was what some people would call masculine but I was also vulnerable and capable of emoting whenever I saw fit.

Growing up, I wasn’t a thug or gangster, but I wasn’t exactly preppy by a mile. I didn’t fit in any category, which only further isolated me as time went on. One thing I definitely am is smart…if you don’t count blowing off studying and patrolling for danger in a town full of mystical creatures.

Study for my Native Lit final or walk the dark cemetery? I’ve got to get a social life. I say to myself, almost pouting at my own comment.

Usually my cemetery time gave me a chance to study because education is important to me. And my mom’s opinion has nothing to do with it...yeah right. That’s that five foot nine sarcasm I talk about.

I know it matters more to her than it does to me. She always wanted me to go to college so I could get a better job and experience ‘college life’ because no one in my family ever graduated college.

I don’t have the heart to tell her I patrol cemeteries for danger every night. It isn’t the best topic to bring up upon going back home.

College does matter to me in some significant way. I think it’s kind of obvious that it matters because I am in a college town in Oklahoma where the cutest guys are self-proclaimed rednecks.

Nothing wrong with a redneck but it did nothing for my love life.

Witch’s Roane is a larger-than-usual town for Oklahoma. There is only one place bigger than the college and that was the cemetery, which is only one of many and the number grows daily.

As I walk, I think about the good and bad parts of what I do. I guess that’s the catch in life, there are bad things out there and there is a price to keeping the normal world normal.

That’s where I come in. It is the job I’ve inherited. I take care of the threats to the balance between the human world and the supernatural world.

I was gifted with powers that others didn’t have the capacity to wield and that put me in a position to help as much as I could. My powers manifested when I was seventeen, having cast a few spells. I keep thinking there is something I can’t remember from before coming here.

I feel certain sadness from these things, but I can’t place it.

When I feel that sadness, I think about all of the dangerous things such as vampires, werewolves, demons and all kinds of nasty things that threaten the general populace.

I’d only ever met an immortal and a witch that wanted to talk. The rest wanted to eat me or someone else that needed saving. I wanted to meet some of the non-lethal beings for once.

Not all the magical beings are evil, though. Some are very beneficial to the world like pixies, nymphs and fairies. They weren’t particularly powerful, even though they could control aspects of nature. They were usually used or picked off by more powerful beings, just like mortals.

Fairy were most powerful out of that group, controlling most aspects of nature at their highest forms, but they were easily distracted and ‘precocious’; moreso devious than