Thursday, October 12, 2017

[Mage: The Awakening 2e] Lore: The Nativity

Out of Character (OOC):
Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen
Venue: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition
Chronicle Storyteller: Jerad Sayler
Assistant Storytellers: Hannah Nyland & Alex Van Belkum


Lore: The Nativity



Sources: 
1. The Nativity as seen in Intruders: Encounters with the Abyss sourcebook for MtA 1ed
2. Anne Singleton was originally taken from the nWoD SAS: Bad Night at Blackmoon Farm
3. Kirsten, Troy, and Lovers taken from Keys to the Supernal Tarot sourcebook for MtA 1ed
4. Abyssal Resonance Merit is taken from the Banishers sourcebook for MtA 1ed
5. Purification ritual  inspired by Hellblazer issue #1 regarding the binding of the demon Mnemoth
6. Artwork taken from The Secret World and Secret World Legends video games
7. All adapted for Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition


The following is In-Character Research that was accomplished by Chimera (Hannah Nyland), Witness (Korri Smith), Persephone (Keri Sayler) and Panoptes (NPC played by Alex Van Belkum) during the events of the story Cups Runneth in our current Chronicle.

Plot Summary:

During Cups Runneth, this group of Guardians and their allies track down Kirsten Singleton, daughter of Anne Singleton who was conceived by a cult leader, awakened in the womb, past her powers to her mother until her birth and then continued to exhibit amazing magical adeptness.  Without any knowledge of the Magi her small fractured family was on the run for over five years while she caused paradox, disbelief and bad luck everywhere she went.  They were hunted most fiercely by the Guardians of the Veil and the Seers of the Throne, suspecting she could be a mage messiah to be snuffed out or protected.


When Task Force MASONPIRANHA catch up with her (the PCs) they find that her powers have been corrupted and her soul tattered by the Abyss.  Whatever she was or appeared to be before, she now is a Nativity with Supernal Magic, horribly damaging to magic itself.  While Witness leads their pursuers on a merry chase and contemplates having to murder the child, Chimera and Persephone figure out a solution.  Through her hidden Archmastery of Death, Persephone is able to repair the threadbare soul of Kirsten, using the Practice of Excision, and restoring her soul to that of an Awakened.  

Chimera takes Anne and Kirsten (now Shadowname Magpie "Maggie") under her protection and sets them up in Jamestown, North Dakota.  Under the watchful eye of her powerful spirit allies and spy networks she took Magpie on as an Apprentice.  Witness is elevated to the rank of Magister within the Guardians of the Veil and Chimera is now considered a Famulus.


((Disclaimer: The following information is not for the faint of heart. The Nativity is perhaps one of the vilest Abyssal Intrusions there is and one that sticks in the mind forever.  It involves the desecration of mothers, babies, fetuses, souls, and poor children who live a cursed life.  Thankfully this is all a work of fiction, and one where (in our plot) they actually managed to find a way to solve the problem that led to the happiest conclusion possible.  Archmastery for the win, and not an avenue I had considered when I designed the plot because we didn't originally have Persephone directly involved in the plot.))


Researching the Nativity

Action: Extended - Intelligence + Mental Skill (capped at size of the roll for a given topic)
Research Time: 1 day without a good library, 3 hours will an appropriate library.
Appropriate Libraries: Genetics, Fate, Possession, Satanism, Mage Order Lore, (Occult specs of the previous topics)
Successes =  Facts 0 The numbers are the progression of facts as the characters accumulate successes from various sources.

False/not related information is in Red and is pure speculation, myth, rumor, urban legend, but don't help with the situation at hand.

Blue information is on-the-nose for what they are looking for.

Information found through Google-Fu:
1. Ever seen movies with evil children?
2. Ever seen “The Omen”?
3. Through history, there have occasionally been children who seem to be at the center of ill fortune.
4. See: Fetches and Changelings for replaced children….  family curses
5. Rumors of indiscretion surrounding conception or result of rape or being a gypsy
6. Always bastard children where they are not sure who the father is, or the father disputes the child being his
7. Rumors of bestiality being involved… (father was the devil or a jackal, a beast)
8. Related to Black Eyed Kids?

Occult Sources:
1. Those children are in nearly every case said to have been immaculately conceived

2. Immaculate Conception tied to messiahs and god manifestations, the virgin birth — in which a child is conceived outside of man with the power of the divine — is considered to be the province of myth and religion. The most recognized example is, of course, the conception of Jesus. The child fostered within Mary’s womb was not given to her by a biological father, but instead born of the miraculous power of the Holy Spirit. That is by no means the only example of such conception in myth, however. Various theologies offer gods born of mortal women with no human fathers (Mithras, for instance). Still, all of this is the domain of legend alone, right?

3. Virgin Birth ambiguous, could mean simply no conception from intercourse. Supernatural conception is the only requirement.

4. The offspring, son or daughter, suffers from an elevated number of childhood ailments, but such a thing isn’t particularly abnormal. Colic, asthma, eczema: such diseases are seen as unfortunate, but not out of the ordinary. The child likely appears a little pale and frail, but not every kid is going to be a ballerina or a football star. Wise onlookers notice that such frailties are not the extent of the strangeness surrounding such a child.

5. Some may notice that strange things happen around the child. Not to him, precisely, but bad things happen in his presence. Potential repeat childhood trauma of major accidents in proximity to the child.

6. Even more bizarre happenstance: animals and birds will spontaneously die, illness and electronic disruption within close proximity to the child but never happen TO the child. Computer malfunctions when the child tries to use them.

7. People feel uncomfortable around him. Some sense how misfortune swirls about him know to stay far, far away.

8. The mother is fiercely protective of her baby. At first, such protection seems normal, but her overprotective nature can become downright vicious

9. Mortal Response – will be subtle, no direct connection to investigations on the part of mortal authorities. Unofficially they will wildly suspect and ostracize the child over time and incidents for suspected powers not confirmed. Psychological breakdowns are common and communities may tear themselves apart as a result.

10. The child may be innocent and completely unaware of its influences on the world.

11. This is an Abyssal incursion, only real means of exile is the death of the born child

12. Intrusion cannot be exiled during pregnancy without also killing the mother, the only real and permanent means of banishment.

Event Indicators of Nativity
1.  Localized events usually bizarre and not long term (within miles/city limits)
2. Rain of blood occurred
3. Flock of crows ran into building
4. Strange events and deaths at hospital
5. Power surges, powerful storms
6. Natil star or astrological alignments or phenomena
7. Flock of birds damaging aircraft or property

Order-Only Info:
1. When they are negative/evil Seer and Diamond Orders alike call this The/a Nativity, or Children of the Nativity or Nativity Children.

2. Theories hold that they are tainted, rather than by other supernatural means, when supernal resonance is involved there is Abyssal taint involved…

3. The souls of children spawned by the Nativity are strange and tattered, providing some mages who study them glimpses into what is assumed to be the Abyss.

4. Strange relationship with magic - Such children are Paradox magnets and abyssal batteries drawing the attention of the Abyss quite strongly.

5. Children of the Nativity are conceived by a mote of the Abyss taking root in the womb.

6. Some Guardians believe that there is a method, using the Death Arcanum, to “operate” on the soul of the child.

7. Where there is one there may be more, gathered together or spawn by the long-term presence of one.  

8. Most instances of Nativity children coming to the awareness of the Awakened result in the death of the child.  Worse yet, their effects can accumulate and the bad luck and paradox can be amplified.  Some Scelesti are rumored to cultivate groups of Nativity children for Abyssal Yantras.

9. Death Arcanum can also be used to manipulate the soul of the Acursed. (Scelestus?)

10. Speculation that many “chosen ones” have come before but are dealt with before they can reach their full potential. These souls will continue to try to be resurrected until successful and their continual recycling between the supernal and the fallen world increases the chances of Abyssal corruption.

11. Of course, one could always exile the child to a place where he can do no harm to the magic of mages. Crafty and cruel mages, however, recognize that they can harm their enemies by “relocating” the child into the territory of those who oppose the mages.


Indicators & Risk factors of Nativity Child Conception:
1. Victim of serial killer or violent (suspected but unconfirmed rape) victim recovers.

2. Violent supernatural exposure with prolonged hospital visit where soul/sanity damage resonates suffering with the Abyss which impregnates victim

3. Mother killed someone by passion, accident, or design in a violent manner

4. Woman suffers from wasting disease or illness, passes the brink of death, and miraculously recovers. Sudden pregnancy follows (perhaps a cost or concentration of that negative energy). Cancer victims specifically risky.  Cancer goes into remission, viruses are only found as dead microscopic husks, dangerous bacteria are gone.

5. The previous conception events combined with a very very easy pregnancy. Little to no morning sickness or discomfort or pain.

6. Previous conception events combined with pregnancy with strange cravings for toxins, drugs, stimulants, or chemicals not compatible with human life.

7. Nothing short of full-abortion procedures nothing natural or external will harm the pregnancy. The Abyss repels negative influences.

8. Previous indicators tied to a birth event (Fate/Destiny)

9. Ovulating sleeper witnesses vulgar spell with minor or no paradox occurs. Sleeper witness usually completely forgets the spell witnessed (Casstiel, Nanashi, and Persephone cast magic in front of Anne but she was already pregnant).

10. Not impossible that an already pregnant victim in which fetus or embryo becomes corrupted by similar incidents.

11. Mother killed someone by passion, accident, or design in a violent manner, pregnancy usually assumed to be result of incest or abuse. Violent death resonance pulls upon aberration/killing family members/entropy resonates with Abyss and corrupts womb.

12. Speculation that the small souls passing through the Abyss from the Supernal (normal cycle of souls) catches a small bit of exposure or taint. Similar to why childhood cancer is a force in the world.

13. Sometimes the spark of the Supernal in the womb is what attracts abyssal interference. It is speculated that children who would have an important destiny, could be the support of the Oracles, the coming of a mage messiah, could be snuffed out before it is allowed to mature by the forces of the Exarchs or the power of the Abyss to continue the subjugation of the Fallen World.

14. Attempts to abort the fetus fail, or may appear successful and the woman immediately conceive again (as if the abyssal mote can transpose onto a new embryo). Those involved with the procedure could experience negative fate-driven consequences.

15. Innocence - While the Abyss patches his tattered soul, this does not necessarily engender the child toward horrible actions. It is enough that he is surrounded by awfulness, with bad luck and Paradox bleeding off of him in imperceptible waves. Assume that the child is like anybody else. He can be good, he can be bad. If he’s raised poorly, perhaps he becomes selfish and even cruel. If he’s raised well — or is just plain good of heart — perhaps he’s downright altruistic. The Abyss is not what makes the child bad, or even good. While the Abyss waits within him, it exists in a null state, non-sentient, simply allowing the child to force an awful effect on the surrounding world.

Fixing a Nativity:

1. Adepts and Masters of Spirit or Death may be able to make some magic that at least mitigates the child’s negative effect on the world (though, of course, doing so may very well invoke a Paradox as per the child’s persistent Abyssal infection). Such magic must deal with the child’s ragged soul. Of course, this is never simple. The child can have his soul severed. Doing so only disengages the soul, but the Paradox Generator effect is still in place around the unmoored soul. (Worse, the child then begins to endure the effects of soullessness.)

2. Surgery effects: The disentangled soul must then be handled. Placing it in a Soul Jar negates the effects of the Paradox Generator — though, if the soul is released, the effects begin anew.

3. Spells cast to recover a lost soul don't work on the child, because his soul isn’t empty, it’s just frayed.

4. Soul Binding can merge the unmoored soul with the Abyssal “blank spots” in the child’s current soul, but doing so can be disastrous for the boy: yes, this removes the “taint” (as well as the Paradox Generator and Bad Luck Battery effects), but it also gives the boy a severe condition or derangement (either Schizophrenia or Multiple Personality Disorder) as a result of two warring souls within.

5. It is possible to completely sever the child’s original soul and moor in a new one, but this brings about the difficulty of actually finding such a soul. At least one Mysterium history of Abyssal Nativity suggests that such a soul was acquired from the child’s mother, in her last eerily nurturing act. Of course, in such instances, the mother was usually on the verge of death already.

6. A few mages, particularly those within the Guardians of the Veil, have ways of “operating” upon the soul, in a kind of spiritual surgery. Doing so is by no means simple. First, every child born of an Abyssal Nativity is different, and no old roadmap works when it comes to extricating oblivion from a tattered soul in an effort to repair it. Second, the time to perform the ritual is double what it would normally be per a mage’s Gnosis Finally, as the spell is performed, the child’s effect remains active, and magic is harder to work, with the mage courting Paradox all the while. Only a Death Adept is capable of performing this kind of magic, and even that is more a “rumor” than something that is easily proven or true. Legends suggest that such spells require great sacrifice on the part of the caster and of the target — anything from blood to loved ones to replacing one curse with another

7. Creation of a new Soul – requires mastery of the five subtle Arcana: Fate, Prime, Spirit, Death, Mind and is completely theoretical.

8. Rumors also exist of old purification rituals — available to mage and mortal alike — that might be successful in purging the Abyss from the child’s soul, but few are aware of what cost that may have on the child’s body or psyche (or on the caster of such rituals). Still, some who know of the Nativity seek out such practices.

9. Even the rituals themselves are hard to find: recipes carved into the pipes in the labyrinthine tunnels beneath cities, pages pinned to altars in jungle temples, programmed responses born into the madness of Goetic demons and spirit Countesses.

10. The rituals are long and require a great many “pure” reagents, anything from a drop of water from the world’s five oceans to the blood of one of the few truly innocent men in the world.



The Purification Ritual
Mechanics: One roll, teamworked: Resolve + Occult and -1 for each failed requirement.  Ritual is a pass or fail.
Requirements:
1. Magic can help you cheat at these requirements, Persephone could help with this greatly!
2. Need a drop of water from each of the five oceans blessed by a particular type of African Shaman, of the Sangomas tradition
3. Ritual chant in an ancient African tongue from South Africa
4. Symbols need to be carved into flesh (maybe marks can work instead?) but can be healed with magic afterwards
5. Rare hallucinatory plants provide +1-3 bonuses
6. An eyeball must be swapped between the lead ritualist and the child
7. Pint of blood from a truly innocent person
8. Ritual takes 7 hours to complete, dusk to dawn roughly
9. Everyone involved loses a dot of Wisdom or Integrity automatically

((The following are the mechanics we used for our Nativity, not information that can be found via research))

Nativity Abilities:

Impending Danger:
The child wrecks havoc on the Danger Sense Merit, always going off, an ambush is poised to happen.  This can look crazy under Fate Sight as well.

Abyssal Antenna:
Abyssal Detection Abilities & Peripheral Mage Sight– Feel cold around the child, hear eerie noises in static, white noise, high-pitched whine, or feel queasy and unsettled spiritually.

Condition: Frailty:
Child has at least till physical or mental illnesses and -1 to all physical rolls

Electronic Disruption:
Electronics mess up in her presence, narrative effect only.

Ill Omens:
Anomalies and bad omens seem to surround her.  Narrative effect only, dead birds, dead animals, moths, dead bugs found around places the child has been recently.

Paradox Generator:
Part of the child is oblivion, emptiness, a consumptive and eradicative force, magic is hampered -2 to all spells within a mile. Within half a mile radius the entity generates +4 paradox, and +2 between half a mile and a mile. Also, within the half-mile radius paradox increases by double (+2 instead of +1) for each additional Vulgar spell cast by a given mage in a scene.

Bad Luck Battery
Under Fate Sight tendrils of sudden probability, dark and tenuous, lash out from the child and embrace negatively affected subjects like a frog’s tongue catching flies. The mage may conclude that the child is performing these magical feats of his own will, despite the fact that the youngster seems wholly unaware of it. Stressful actions around the child take a -3. If the child is watching a failure can be turned into a Dramatic Failure.

Locations she has been and immediately around her manifest bad luck by reducing dice tricks: no 10 again, 1s subtract from successes, roll twice and take the lowest, failures are made dramatic failures, exceptional successes only count as regular, stuff like that... progressively get worse over time in an area.  Have fun mix and matching the trail of bad.
Animal Agitation:
In the child’s presence dogs howl, birds fly into one another, a swarm of locusts suddenly rises and flies head-on into a wall. Some animals attack: bees might sting, a cat may hiss and swipe. Others may instead simply flee. As a result, the child may never possess any dots in the Animal Ken Skill. Play up dead crows and lots of bugs!  Feeds into Ill Omens.  Animals suffer -1 to Composure.

Mother Hen Effect
The mother gains Condition: Suspicion when the child reaches 1 and gains Condition: Paranoia when the child reaches the age of 3. Both center around protecting the child.


Supernatural Entities and the Child

Vampires feel as if they’re encountering another of their kind, or some mindless, feral monster: they must roll for Predatory Aura accordingly. Failing that roll indicates that the vampire feels in the presence of something ancient, empty and wretched. Drinking the blood of the child is both nourishing (two Vitae points per Health level consumed) and debilitating (for 12 hours after drinking from the child, the vampire suffers a –2 dice penalty to all rolls).

Werewolves find that their hair stands on end in any form when encountering the child. Worse, if at any point the werewolf must roll to avoid Death Rage while in the presence of the child, that roll is made at a –3 dice penalty.

Ghosts & Spirits flee the presence of the child. Most spirits won’t come within sight of him. Those that remain within 50 yards in both the Shadow and the physical realm suffer a –2 dice penalty to all rolls. This applies to ghosts, as well, who are capable of seeing the child’s soul and its deathlike/entropic stains.


Under Mage Sights

Active Death Sight – stain of death all around the child but not touching the child, like a Sin-Eater only more intense.

Focused Death Sight - shows the tattered soul and the abyss peeking through. Particularly bizarre side effect when used upon the child: the mage gazes for a moment into the Abyss, staring clean through the rotten holes

Fate Sights – The child’s actions or in-actions in tangled in probability and loaded movements of importance

Prime Sights - shows half of the child’s aura is a consumptive black hole — as if she is in fact missing part of his soul (but Prime does not let you see the soul itself)

Life Sights – Child is sickly, frail, but stronger than she looks, weaker in other areas, malformed, imperfect.

Time Sights – Bad things have happened around the child, bad things are coming.  Nothing bad ever happens directly to the child, instead that badness is inflicted and reflected on the people around her.


((Since Magpie was an Awakened Mastigos mage and was turned into a Nativity after her birth she bucks many of the norms of what Awakened mages have seen with this Intruder phenomena.  In many ways she is and was special.  Since she had magic, and therefore was harming it with her lack of understanding of Paradox, Quiescence, Disbelief, and the proximity of the Abyss, it seemed appropriate that she would also have the Abyssal Resonance Merit.  Tweaked for Mage 2.0.  Thankfully they never got into a combat or casting situation in front of the child without first understanding all the dangers...))



Merit: Abyssal Resonance (• to •••••)

Effect: All Sleepers have a shard of the Abyss within them, but characters with this Merit resonate strongly with the Abyss. The character has little or no control over this Merit, but any mage around her certainly feels its effects.  Dots in this Merit allow access to various effects based on the Abyss’s growing intrusion into the character’s soul. This Merit is progressive, that is, a character can and does find that her Resonance with the Abyss increases the more contact she has with Awakened magic. In game terms, each level of the Merit is a prerequisite for the next.  Paradox rules can be found here.

Merit Drawback: So much exposure to the Abyss is dangerous for the character’s sanity. Every time the character increases the rating of this Merit, she must make a Wisdom or Integrity check.  Failure may result in derangements or a Paradox Condition.  Also, mages with this Merit always have nimbuses that relate to or call to mind the Abyss (shadows darken, objects grow cold to the touch, etc.)

Eyes of the Abyss (•): 
The character can automatically sense Paradoxes and even potential Paradoxes. Whenever a mage casts a vulgar spell within 100 feet of the character, she senses it. No roll is required. The character might perceive this information as a scent of saltwater and smoke, or a cold shudder down her spine or the sounds of wailing and screaming as if from a great distance. If the player makes a reflexive Perception (Wits + Composure) roll, the character can pinpoint a direction.  If she is in the presence of the mage who cast the spell, this roll allows the character to identify him.  This is very similar to Peripheral Mage Sight or the Unseen Sense Merit.

Skin of the Abyss (••): 
The Abyss protects the character from attempts to identify or analyze him. Any Unveiling or Knowing spell cast directly on the character is considered vulgar in aspect, as is any other spell designed to gain information about or otherwise analyze the character (including Scrying).  Focused Death or Prime Mage Sight causes a Wisdom check at current level.

Beacon of the Abyss (•••): 
Merely being in the presence of this character invites Paradox. All mages within the scene (roughly 50-foot radius) with the character increase their Paradox pools whenever any mage casts a vulgar spell as the Locality Pooled Paradox Game Hax. For example, if one member of the cabal casts a vulgar spell (Paradox base dice pool of one), the next mage to do so, no matter who it is, has a Paradox base dice pool of two. If the character with this Merit is a mage, she is not immune to the effect, and neither are any allied mages in the area. The Abyss does not discriminate.

Claws of the Abyss (••••): 
Containing a Paradox within one’s own body is often a wise decision, better a few points of bashing damage than insanity or the chaos of an Anomaly. A character with this Merit, though, can worsen the damage thus inflicted. The user expends a Willpower Point when another mage in the scene tries to absorb Paradox as Backlash. Any damage from containing a Paradox upgrades from Resistant Bashing damage to Resistant Lethal Damage.

Abyssal Warden (•••••): 
The character unconsciously understands and can manipulate the gateways between the Fallen World and the Abyss. Whenever a mage Releases a Paradox within view of the character with this Merit (that is, the character doesn’t absorb the Paradox within his own body), the character can try to force a Manifestation by spending a Willpower Point. The user rolls a Clash of Wills:  Resolve + Gnosis vs the victim mage’s Resolve + Gnosis (resistance is reflexive). If the user succeeds, the Paradox becomes a Manifestation (as if the ST had 5 Reach) regardless of the results of the Released Paradox roll.



Tuesday, October 10, 2017

[Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen] Analysis after the Scepter

Out of Character (OOC):
Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen
Venue: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition
Chronicle Storyteller: Jerad Sayler
Assistant Storytellers: Hannah Nyland & Alex Van Belkum

Lore: Analysis after the Scepter

The following is in-character (IC) results of research and analysis by the mages after the events of the story: The Scepter, part 3 of the Dethroned Queen metaplot.  The analysis takes place, in-game in August 2017.

Sources: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition corebook, Reign of the Exarchs sourcebook for MtA 1ed, and Keys to the Supernal Tarot sourcebook for MtA 1ed.

More research posts:
1. Research on the Dethroned Queen
2. Artifact: The Robe Revised
3. Artifact: The Ring Revised
4. Artifact: The Scepter Revised
5. Scenes from the Scepter


Iki, Jack, Chimera conducted a successful divination using the First Tarot Cards and got clear results, even after absorbing the difficulties of trying to divine without a complete deck. We've confirmed that the cards are tied Fate-wise to the Artifacts, but not directly. 

Questions and answers from their divination session are as follows:

Question: What is at the end of the "path" the Dethroned Queen wants to set us on? 
Answer: An opportunity for one of you to take the fight to the highest.  Transcend the fallen world.

Question: Are the Emissary or the Arbiter still around today carrying out their agendas? 
Answer: Their agendas are still playing out and are relevant in the world, they themselves are long gone and only exist in the cycle of the Diamond Wheel.

Chimera: Which really raises the question of who the redhead we saw in the post-cog of the telephone call was, since we assumed she was the Emissary. We discussed the possibility that it is still her in some fashion via time travel shenanigans, as we puzzled out that the Queen was the Exarch of Time through other methods. We're also quite sure that time shenanigans apply to the Artifacts themselves; The Robe saved itself from the destruction of being cast into the Ocean Orouboros by "rewinding" to a previous state when it was on Jack's shoulders.


Question: Where do the Queen's allegiances lie? Exarchs, Oracles, or her own path?
Answer: A coin tossed and falling, only to repeat again before it lands, thousands of times. Finally, it lands perfectly on edge. She's created a third option.

Question: If we take the path the Queen is laying out for us, will we retain our own agency in the end? When we "transcend" would we be doing so as a player, or a pawn? 
Answer: Depends on the choice of the person who takes the path. There's some sort of choice available after the transcendence that currently makes this unanswerable.

Question: Where is the Queen now?  Where would we find her? 
Answer: Sits in a place outside of Time, sits inside of Time, sits on a throne again.

Chimera: Yes, but which throne? But given the way this dialogue on the phone was phrased: "She wants to see if you are the chosen ones to receive the gifts of the Queen, to fulfill her purpose, to follow the path she laid behind her for others to follow." we can infer that she may have already transcended herself.

Chimera: More speculation from things learned and my own ideas:

The court we saw in the dreams was obviously her court, but probably one in the Fallen World. Our intuition says its not Atlantis. We see the Emissary and Arbiter arguing about how the world should be ruled, and the Queen said something true (but apparently upsetting) in response, because this seemed to cause them to start fighting.

The Queen seems likely to be an Acanthus with a Time bent. But there are some weird nods to the Mastigos Path as well, like some Mastigos specific Yantra factors on the Artifacts, the Scepter creating dream worlds, etc. Also, note that both Cold Smile and Cyberline Hand (who had a connection to her) were Mastigos. This *might be because the Cold Smile claimed and used at least one of the artifacts (The Robe) but there could be other reasons.

We speculated that the Queen may have cults that are still around and pursuing her agenda. Some speculation that Aldones (the Emissary) was leading it, but given the reveal that she and the Arbiter are not around anymore, that's either nixed or gets into Time travel shenanigan territory again. It's also possible her reincarnation has something to do with it, but there is no evidence to support that idea at this time - pure speculation.

Speculation that her court was the primordial version of the Silver Ladder, Cyberline and Cold Smile are also affiliated with that Order. Ritter quoted something from Silver Ladder history: "The Vox values Acanthus not just as practical oracles, but as those who predict when people Awaken to godhood."

We still need to determine who the Adversary is.  There was also speculation that part of her court was the predecessor to the Praetorian ministries. The Artifacts seem setup to counter both Seer abilities and direct supernal abilities, which is kinda interesting and does fit the depiction of her being some sort of third agent.

Seer symbols still were evident in the dreams we have (the pyramid), so she may still agree with aspects of that ideology without holding allegiance to them in general. Her allegiance was suggested to be complicated.

The Queen’s Court & Cult
1. She appears to be an Acanthus, former Exarch of Time!  Beyond the research. part of this is based on the analysis of the physical artifacts and the fact they are Path Tool Yantras for Acanthus.  This is true for the three artifacts we have found so far… right?  Huh... the Scepter is a Tool Yantra for a Mastigos for some reason..

2. She probably had her own cult and Ministry, focused on the aspect of War across Time based on the visions we have had. How the battles don’t win wars, the long-game, empire expansion and building a foundation of society. Predecessors to the Praetorian Ministry (The General) and the Prophet.

3. Fun Fact: Aldones is mentioned as a name in The Yellow King, a short story by H.P. Lovecraft

4. She was building her court (as seen in the visions) immediately after the Fall. The cult consisted of both Diamond and Seer membership, many of which defected to the General after she vanished from history.  It’s possible the fight between the Emissary and the Arbiter represented both Seer and Pentacle membership.

The cult must have dispersed or went deep underground because there are no real mentions of a fallen Exarch cult that match the profile.  But perhaps they have just been waiting for the right ‘time,’ perhaps that time is tied to the decline of the Unity, or the causal/effect of the artifacts starting to show up and fate/destiny is driving them back together like magnets, with the help of the Emissary. It’s impossible to know what the trigger event was.

There was Priests and Warriors in the room, a divide, a schism, which are these two groups though.  Former Praetorian… or former Panopticon?  Seers & the Diamond Orders?  They were arguing how the Fallen World should be ruled… so like a philosophical Ministry M.O.?

What if the Priest-Advisor Neotalba is still around in some form?


The Poem Analysis

“By her grace She leaves this Ring, so we might find the Truth we seek.” 
The Ring lets us see the control of the Exarchs in the Fallen World.

“She leaves this Robe of mystic night, so we might dwell beyond Their sight.”
The Robe allows you hide from the view of the Exarchs and their agents.

“This Scepter drawn She leaves us all, to brush aside Their distant call.”
The Scepter counters Exarchal power (Profane Urim), magic, and seer power in the fallen world.

“She leaves to us this Crown of souls, to twist their thralls to our own goals.”
This suggests that the Crown control people, perhaps specifically Seers and Seer Servitors.  Maybe this sways them from the Seers or the Diamond alike... scary thought.

“By her grace She leaves this last; A Throne whose seat will let us pass.”
Let us pass… to where?  May mean to follow in her footsteps, fight the Exarchs… into the Supernal?


Tarot Cards associated with or found around the Artifacts 

During The Ring

The Fool (First Tarot)
The first step on the long journey. The first kiss from a new lover. The first mistake, the first great triumph. The first footfalls into the office of a new career, or the first fumbling steps of a child. The Fool is the card of beginnings. The symbolism of the card makes the dangers of beginnings
plain. The Fool is about to step off a precipice, and perhaps fall to his doom.  Some decks include a white dog, perhaps barking to warn
the Fool. Most of the time, the Fool isn’t looking where he is going — if he does that, he’ll miss what’s happening around him! It’s easy to see why mages versed in the Tarot often equate the Fool to the Acanthus Path. Tricksters are wide-eyed at the possibilities of the world because they can
see them so much more easily than other mages. But the truth is that any mage, upon returning from the Supernal Realms, newly Awakened, is the Fool on the start of the grand adventure. The Fool is therefore often associated with the Time Arcanum in general, rather than the Acanthus Path, in some
circles — since the Fool occupies the position of “zero,” it can appear alongside any other Key without changing it (1 + 0 is still 1). But even more generally, the Fool can be seen as a metaphor for the Awakened condition. The Fool is the divine madman, the person whose perspective is so different from those around him that he is nearly unable to function in the world. That he is powerful is irrelevant. If he is to be able to communicate and therefore interact, he must find a way to reconcile
the way he sees the world with the way that others see it.

The Hierophant (drawn during the plot)
The Hierophant, known as the Pope in some decks, represents spiritual authority and dogma. He sits upon a throne, as does the Emperor, and carries a scepter or other symbol of his holy office. The Hierophant’s authority, however, comes from above, and the teachings he hands down are not based on lucid observation of the world around him,but upon visions, mysteries and readings of ancient holy texts. The card itself can represent the need to return to or observe orthodoxy or the danger of relying on it too much, depending on its position within a spread. For the mage and the journey through the Tarot, the Hierophant comes after the learning experiences of the previous Major Arcana cards in the path.

Hierophant isn’t necessarily a negative card, but its primary function is to educate the mage in what other Awakened believe. This “orthodoxy” might be the Atlantean system of belief, including the Fall of the Celestial Ladder and the formation of the orders, or
the teachings of the Throne and the need for subservience to the Exarchs. Some mages might even fall in with Banishers, and learn a much more unpleasant — but just as regimented — belief system. The important point here is that not only does magic require morality, but that morality very often has a set of established rules and values attached to it. And like Sleeper religions, many of these values don’t have much validity outside their respective beliefs. That is, while the orders might have a great deal to teach, some of the traditions are outmoded and perhaps unnecessary in the modern world. Even so, many mages treat them as though they are inviolable. The Hierophant does not ask that mages critically examine his teachings (though he doesn’t necessarily forbid it, depending on what he represents). He only holds up the holy writ and intones his sacred passages, expecting others to follow.


Some interpretations of the Hierophant among the Awakened are narrower, referring specifically to the Seers of the Throne and the Exarchs. From what the Pentacle mages know of the Seers, they are living representations of how dogma as a guiding principle can be toxic, as they teach that a given set of rules is absolute. Any mage, though, should know that the rules of reality itself are variable depending on which “reality” one is currently in (that is, the Fallen World or the Supernal Realms, or even the physical world as opposed to the Shadow). A system that espouses absolutism is thus flawed, and that is how the Pentacle generally perceives the Throne. Interestingly, though, cartomancers among the Seers welcome this association, and it’s not uncommon to see Seer
cabals use Hierophant symbolism in their heraldry. Solitaries and those few cabals that come together without interference from the Pentacle orders, of course, don’t meet the Hierophant. This has its advantages and disadvantages. The Hierophant isn’t there to impart a system of beliefs, and that means the mages aren’t blind to other possibilities — they never had an authority figure tell them “this is how things are, and this is what you should believe.” On the other hand, sometimes that
kind of structure can be comforting, especially as what a mage “knows” is constantly questioned by the very nature of magical exploration.

During the Robe

The High Priestess (Drawn during the plot)
The High Priestess sits on her throne and waits. She is resting potential, the power of intuition and the collective unconscious. She is spirituality without the religious dogma of the Hierophant, and she is authority without the chest-pounding masculinity of the Emperor. Her power doesn’t stem from her femininity, as the Empress’ does, but from her knowledge, from her introspection and her patience.

In some decks, she is called the Female Pope, perhaps a reference to the legendary Pope Joan, but perhaps a simple reminder that a spiritual leader’s authority doesn’t come from gender, station in life or any other earthly attribute, but from her or his connection to the higher power.

For mages, especially mages of the Pentacle, this is an important point to keep in mind. Magic comes from the Supernal, and no matter how many Awakened a family claims, no matter how long the pedigree of one’s cabal or Consilium (or order, the Free Council reminds them), mastery over the Arcana requires connecting to the Supernal Realms. The temporal, physical concerns, ultimately, are meaningless. Another common interpretation of the High Priestess among the Awakened, of course, is the Guardians of the Veil. The High Priestess is the mistress of her own Labyrinth, mysterious and inscrutable, doling out knowledge that can enlighten or mislead. She does not give up her secrets easily or lightly, and her ceremonial headdress and garb acts as a kind of mask, making sure that it is her station that witnesses see, not the woman (or mage) beneath. Subtlety, for both the order and the High Priestess, are the best defense against persistent inquiry. A dedicated investigator will eventually penetrate the High Priestess’ mystery…unless he redirects him to something else, turning him back into a perpetual Magician, or pushing him forward into the arms of the more receptive Empress.

Although the High Priestess is an early stop on the journey through the Tarot, it is a hint of things to come. A mage sees the lesson of the High Priestess immediately post-Awakening, because she is capable of some of the same feats of magic as her more experienced comrades simply because she has Awakened. Whether she internalizes or retains that lesson is something else again, but she will see it repeated again in her journey, in the Star, the Tower and the World.

The Empress (First Tarot)
The Empress is an expression of the female form made divine. She is Ishtar, Astarte, Demeter and Isis. In some decks, she is also linked to the Virgin Mary, but whatever name is given to the Empress, she is the Maiden matured — the Mother. She is often pictured pregnant, sometimes holding a child. She is a symbol of fertility and plenty. More abstractly, she is a symbol of wisdom, but her wisdom stems from a combination of intuition and natural insight and the experience of years. The Fool’s youth and the High Priestess’ knowledge combine in the Empress.

To the Awakened, the Empress card resonates with the Thyrsus Path and, more specifically, the Life Arcanum. The Empress is a symbol of all growing things, of fertility and fecundity, and of life born anew. As such, she symbolizes the Life Arcanum, arguably imperfectly. The Life Arcanum can heal and cause new growth, but as any Thyrsus knows, Life can also be used to control, warp and even kill organisms. Some Awakened cartomancers look at the destructive side of Life as being represented by the Empress Reversed. Her meaning in traditional cartomancy is somewhat different.

For a mage on her journey through the Tarot, the Empress can be seen as either a stage on this journey or an advisory figure. Someone who Awakens later in life, perhaps when she has a family of her own, must take the lessons that Sleeping life has taught her and apply them to her new outlook
as one of the Wise. Mages that disregard the life experience of the Fallen World are, frankly, fools — the Fallen World is where all mages must live. If the Empress is an advisory figure, she needn’t be a mage herself. Some mages, after surviving that first precarious Fool’s leap, consorting with the charlatan Magician and receiving the blessing and wise counsel of the High Priestess, need the more
earthy (and honestly, more fun) advice of the Empress. And indulging in the sensuality of the Empress is indeed advisable — after her, the journey grows harsh. The strict Emperor and the humorless Hierophant looms close.

During The Scepter

Ace of Wands (First Tarot)
Like all Aces, the Ace of Wands symbolizes the roots and the entity of its element, here it is the root of Fire, the first spark to create the flaming powers of Atziluth, the world of the all-encompassing spiritual substance. Being the essence of Fire, the Ace itself goes nowhere, but stands for the strong feeling that soon might turn into a strong will or plan. There is a spiritual power that has the ability to grow, it is completely up to us whether we use it or not.  The Ace of Wands might turn out to be bad when we cannot control or use its power that starts burning all out of a sudden, and all its riches get burned down before we can use them for good.


Further on the Corrupted Dreams 

Mystery commands so… these must be the Exarchs talking. The opposition.

Temples, erected from marble, chalcedony and obsidian with Greek columns and burning with spells. An embassy to the Supernal

You walk through the streets and people grovel before you. Mages rule with an Iron Fist.
This is all they deserve

The Inner Sanctum decorated.
We rule the truths now

Iron Pyramid on the far wall.
Path to Transcendence
This mark is a Seer philosophy of the Iron Pyramid and the path to transcendence. Why would she have that there? Appropriated from Seer cultists?

Hallow, stronger than any you have felt. It’s like the Supernal touching down on physical reality.
Condoned Bastion of the highest of high. 
A Supernal Verge, how did they manage that?

The courtiers around the throne are divided in half. One side of the room are priests in robes wielding coins, cups, wands, and swords.
Tarot suits symbols

Burning sigils upon them. Wear hats called pshents upon their heads. (Egyptian crowns, not with the cobra look, symbols of wisdom).
Servants of the Arbiter

The other side of the room are warriors wearing Orichalcum with disks of Thaumium with magical weapons, Tridents and spears that you just know can cut through hope and memory as well as anything.
Servants of the Emissary

The Throne is the amazing and hums with power. On its back is the Iron Pyramid, eye of lightning. 
Symbolizing the Panopticon

The Queen, black curly hair pulled back with curls framing her face. Circlet of ten gemstones, dangling earrings of pearls and white and gold metals.
These appear in the same order and stone on the Ring of the Dethroned Queen, they match the Bell the Crown, and the Exarchs and Arcana)

Exarch Message only: 
(This is) an Embassy. (Sleepers enslaved to mages) is what they deserve. We rule the truths now. (The Iron Pyramid) is the path to transcendence. (Verges are the) condoned bastion of the highest of high. (See) the servants of the Arbiter. (See) the servants of the Emissary. (See) her name. OBEY!


Analyzing the Name of the Queen 
Source: It's on the Ring and on the Throne in dreams.

We’ve now seen her forgotten name, all Exarchs have names which are complex geometric matrices of High Speech sigils of incredible complexity.  These names exist on a 10-dimensional scale. (Space) of incredible complexity.  Each of the 10 Arcana in mage sights reveals new details and patterns in the name.  The name/sigil is itself power and an identify. A True Name.  It hurts to look at it (like looking at the sun).  You feel observed looking at it, (LTN effect), Ministry.

You are feeling the her signature nimbus and a Yantra of power for the cult. It’s essentially the nimbus of the ENTIRE Time Arcanum represented.  This forgotten name still holds power in the dream and on the Ring.  This may indicate she retained Exarchal power after her fall or managed to re-ascend which is why it's empowered again.  Either way, her power is still around in some form.  This might be the product of the artifacts existing, but this seems much more powerful.  The name is still “active,” could she still be an Exarch now? A sub-Exarch?

Analyzing the Gemstones
Source: As seen on Ring, Scepter, and Crown

Each stone represents an Arcanum. But why does she have these?  On the bell-clapper of the Ring it's probably to have each resonance (sound/pattern/spell) to show Exarch control across all 10 lens. Attuning to the control of her enemies. 

So, which Exarch control are we seeing?
1. Prime = Diamond = The Father
2. Mind = Ruby = The Unity
3. Space = Emerald = The Eye
4. Fate = Sapphire = The Ruin
5. Death = Onyx = Ther Psychopomp
6. Time = Amethyst = The Prophet, used to be the Queen…
7. Spirit = Moonstone = The Nemesis
8. Life = Amber = The Raptor
9. Matter = Jade = The Chancellor
10. Forces = Aquamarine = The General

Unknown Exarchs
We now seem to know there are more than just the 10 Exarchs:
1. The Dethroned Queen
2. The Architect (mentioned by Seraph)
3. The Mind of the Fallen Exarch (mentioned by Seraph)
4. The Gate - the 11th Exarch, Emissary to the Abyss. Aeon of the Abyss

Further Analysis of the Cold Smile
Cxaxa Qherephis

She was a pre-Almec queen, thousands of years after the Dethroned Queen’s visions.  She was a Mastigos Archmage (interestingly enough the Ring and Robe is a tool Yantra for Acanthus, the Scepter it is for Mastigos), and a major player in the pre-Silver Ladder.

She was not an incarnation of the Queen, more like a wannabe. She had and used the Robe as her mark of divine authority in defiance of the Exarchs. She did her best to emulate the Dethroned Queen, step off of her success and fame/infamy/notoriety.  She used the Robe as a “Quintessence” for her resurrection - she broke herself into Soulstones (Splintered Sight, Swarming Heart, Cyberline Hand’s bloodline and the Robe).

The rise and fall (and rise and fall again) of the Cold Smile is NOT part of the Queen’s Agenda as far as we can tell…  As much as the connection wants to be made, the Cold Smile was an evil mage but her disposition shouldn’t be directly correlated to the queen. Cold Smile evil does not equal Dethroned Queen is evil too.

The Cold Smile claimed to be an Oracle or at least an Exemplar in opposition to the queen. This information implies the Queen is an Exarch and is still around then and today and still works along with the power of the other Exarchs. Is it possible that the reason WE are getting pulled into this business with the Artifacts could have something to do with ancient bloodlines?


Insights from Seraph’s Dream

“Must unite the 10 soul stones”
There is ambiguity on whether this is referring to the queen or another fallen Exarch.  This could this relate to the 10 gemstones (which seem to represent the Arcana and/or 10 Exarchs that are lords over them) somehow?

“Ring, Robe, Scepter, Crown, Throne”
In the same vein as above, not only do we have the total number of artifacts (five) but we seem to have an order and that poem. The 10 soulstones mentioned above, could that relate to the five artifacts? Is there one artifact for each of the five Supernal Realms?

"Queen must not Return” 
Sure, seems clear…. But…. who is providing that?  Consider the source (the mind of a fallen Exarch trapped in an Astral Prison (Castle Discordia) powered by souls and infected with an Abyssal god.) He may have objected from a Exarch before he was also cast down.

 Wait... Didn’t she already return? Did she return to the fallen world from whence she came and then returned to the Supernal. Unless she hasn’t. Which makes sense, the five artifacts might be needed for her to return to the Supernal and these actions are making that happen. Just a theory.

This maybe why they are coming together again. Do you oppose or help this happen? That is the question. What about the return of Aldones, the Emissary?

Seraph’s vision also talks about MATEOAT (The Mirror at the End of all Things)
- This is off-track but MATEOAT was the “parent” of the 9th Calamity, responsible for Fobax’s horrid life and consequences.
- MATEOAT is trapped in the mind of that Exarch at the edge of the Astral Abyss
- Maybe we could study both in prep for destroying them?
- Perhaps a return to the Castle is in order?

“Two Dark Towers...”
Ties and implies that there are two hidden towers, reflections of each other.

 “Apocalyptic Landscape”
Sounds a lot about the Aboleth dream.

Curse of the Ring:
The Ring has a serious flaw in it… the paranoia and playing into expectations  But it lets you see Exarch influence and control on the world. Unfortunately you get obsessed with the ring. You get paranoid, you become addicted to knowing where all the control is, through seeing through these filters.  This is a truth you cannot ignore… and perhaps that is why.  Then you start seeing False signs based on user perception… perhaps this effect can be countered by magic? (The mental paranoia and obsession, not the information flow)

The gemstone immediately centered above the Amethyst gemstone.  This supports the fact that she is/was the Exarch of Time All the Artifacts seem to have a Flaw or Curse worked into them… but why? Was this intentional by the Queen so she could keep track of them? Loopholes? Perhaps the Queen has returned to the Supernal (fuck, maybe she is an Oracle now). And she is keeping tabs on her investments…  Or did the Exarchs or the Abyss corrupt them to keep their power in check and subvert her intent?  This seems to make the Artifacts seem non-viable… but this may not be the case

Curse of the Robe
The Robe also has a flaw in it, at least one Exarch might be able to actually track this. It beacons under Ringsight, but only via Time.  What if the only Exarch that can track you is the Queen, or the Prophet after she went away?

Appears as a Greek Orthodox Vestment but sometimes it’s a Sutterton High hoodie, class of 2017!  Sometimes it has Iky’s Horror’s blood on it. It seems to be designed to conceal the wearer from the scrutiny of the Exarchs.  We would have to assume that it would also work on Seers?

It has an incredibly powerful long-term nimbus.  It concealed Witchend from the outside world and magical scrutiny so they could build their Stepford Suburbia. Trouble is… we have no idea how to control or direct its effects. Actually… even without wearing it could be occluding the Sanctum and/or the Cabal right now.  Then again, it’s in a pocket dimension, doubt it cares though. It conceals itself and then… moves when it wants to…?

Using the robe violates the cosmic station of the Exarchs and “the gods.”  Using it is a big deal... you can feel it.  There is a Rote encoded into the Primium Bangles on the back that is a Seer/Queen Cult version of Sympathy suppressing and cutting spell.

Curse of the Scepter

The cult, the robe, the visions… what’s with the Greco-Roman Motif? Is this because of the expectations of what Atlantis was like over the years?  Multi-verse – what is being dreamed might be window-dressing, it could also be no longer true.

What if the cult in the dream was taking place inside the Scepter instead? It might explain the heavy-handed motifs?  Both the bell and the Scepter seem to “vibrate” to produce their magical effect. What about the Robe?  This may support causality/destiny/chaos/causality angle and principles like String Theory.

It’s designed to Counter Magic, it dispels and blocks Profane Urms!  This is a HUGE deal….




The Destiny of the Exarchs
There seems to be two sides of the debate.  The Queen is “returning” and its bad – a volatile ex-Exarch.  The Queen tried to Ascend (and unless she is still around she either succeeded or failed to ascend) and it’s a good thing that this is happening. Making this a critical time to fight the Exarchs.  But what is the purpose or cause of the dreams? What is the nature of the Fate entanglement that seems to be centered on Chimera and now Jack more strongly than others?  Are the Artifacts just another form of Control?

Phone Call Analysis
Perspective: This is either the Queens or the Emissary’s view.

“Chosen ones to receive the gifts of the Queen” 
“To fulfill her purpose, to follow the path laid behind for others to follow."
“To keep the regalia from the hands of the Adversary.” 
“Stand against the Lie, the Jailers" (Seers)

The Exarch’s Administrators must not take back the Regalia.

Other Notes:
“Gather. Artifacts. Fight. Lords. Save. Fallen.”

Queen Regalia, Lords of Aeon = Exarchs

There were sigils in the rocks around the case for the scepter. But what do they mean?  They were placed by Queen’s cult to await for “the way to open once more.” 

Instead of the Prophet, lore says she was worshiped as “The Ananke” after her disappearance, a servant of Fate and Destiny. The mother of all Ananke.  Ironically her Emissary may be an Ananke or an Ochemata.  Its purpose seems to be to disperse or disrupt Exarchal control

Fate Entangled - You are probably not the only “pawns” on the board. All parties and interests will want to find and claim the Artifacts if they knew the Cabal had them.  Having them stored by an Archmage might help or hinder efforts to hide the items.

By the way... who were those Street Performers in the German city of Kiel?



Sunday, September 24, 2017

[Mage: The Awakening 2e] The Storyteller (Horror Short)

Out of Character (OOC):
Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen
Venue: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition
Chronicle Storyteller: Jerad Sayler
Assistant Storytellers: Hannah Nyland & Alex Van Belkum


Short Horror: The Storyteller

By Rick Chillot

As seen in Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology.  Buy it here.  Of all the Mage stories I have read, this one resonates the strongest.  What is the antagonist?  A powerful shadow spirit?  An Abyssal Intruder? Are the mages moral or horrible?

Jimmy held the warm bundle close to his body as he stepped across the soggy field. The Wilsons had moved off this land long ago, and it hadn’t been farmed since. The soil was scarred with deep ruts and pockmarks, some filled with rain from the night before. Jimmy noted the mud that was clinging to his shoes and pant legs, and for a moment he worried about how to explain it. But then he remembered that his mother and father didn’t care about that kind of thing. Not anymore.

Up ahead, at the top of a rise, he saw the curved stone wall of the old well. The ground felt a bit drier and firmer as Jimmy made his way up the slope. Mosquitoes and midges buzzed around his face. He shifted the bundle, cradling it in one arm to shoo away the insects with his free hand. He felt the
blankets move and twist, and pulled them to his chest again.

As Jimmy reached the well, a slim, rufous, four-legged animal stepped out from behind the stones. The creature’s pointed ears twitched once; it raised its angular muzzle and sniffed the air. A light breeze carried the scent of spoiled meat; the creature shook its head, pawed at the ground with one black-socked foot and raised its bushy tail.

“Fox,” Jimmy said to the animal, “Are you sure we should do this?”

Fox sat on his haunches, glanced to the right and left, taking in the barren farmland, the broken-down barn, the dirt road that led back to town. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, Jimmy,” he said. “And I’m certain it’s for the best. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sure I do.” Jimmy stepped to the edge of the well and looked over, down into the darkness. “I think it’s waking up.” He said suddenly, as the cloth bundle quivered and shook. “I think it wants to come out.”

“Hurry, Jimmy,” Fox told him. “Hurry. If it wakes and you hear its voice,
you won’t be able to do it.”

Jimmy stared at the swaddled white cloth for another moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he heaved the parcel into the well with an exaggerated grunt. He looked in and saw the bright white shape, lit by the sun, tumble into the black. He felt like he’d thrown a scrap of food into the maw of some hungry giant. At the last moment, before it was swallowed up by inky shadow, the wrappings flew apart and Jimmy could see the infant’s stubby arms and legs flailing and waving.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“You did good today, Jimmy,” Fox told him that night as he curled up at the end of Jimmy’s bed. “So I have another story for you. Do you want to hear it now?”

“Sure,” Jimmy said. He didn’t bother to whisper, because his parents never checked up on him after bedtime. Not lately, anyway.

“This one’s called:

The Bull and the Ants
There was once a large, strong bull who was mightier than any other in his herd. None of the younger, weaker, bulls ever dared challenge him. One day, the bull decided that life with the herd was boring, and so he decided to see what lay beyond the pasture. All the cows warned him not to go, and said that there were unspeakable dangers out there, and that it was much better to stay safe where they were. The bull just laughed at their fear, convinced that there could be no other animal as strong and powerful as he.

So the bull easily broke through the fence and began walking through the field beyond. He had travelled for a whole day when he heard a small voice call out to him. “Please, mighty one, do not go any further.” Looking down, the bull saw a tiny ant. “Please change your direction, O powerful bull,” said the ant, “or you may tread on me and my family.” The bull laughed. “No one tells me what to do or where to walk!” With that, he deliberately crushed the ant beneath his hoof. The bull kept walking, and every time he saw an ant he crushed it out of spite.

But then, as his powerful hoof crashed to the ground to crush another ant, his hoof broke through the turf. The bull had stepped into an anthill and now his foot was trapped. He tried to pull out, only to find his other three limbs trapped as well. As the bull snorted with rage, hundreds of ants swarmed from their holes and crawled up his legs and flanks and chest and back until his body was covered with the insects. They began to rip away his flesh, carrying bit after bit of him down into their anthills.

With his last ounce of strength, the bull turned his head and saw the broken fence, very far away now. He could just make out all the cows standing behind it, watching. And then the ants carried away his eyes.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Babykiller!”

Jimmy was in the far corner of the schoolyard, where the asphalt was torn up, when he heard the snickers of the three older boys. They passed him by, then stopped and turned back to look at him.

“I never see this kid in church,” one was saying. “How come you don’t go to church, kid?”

“Maybe he has better things to do.”

“Maybe he’s out looking for babies to kill. Babykiller.”

“How come you call him that?” The runt of the trio asked, his voice ponderous with boredom.

“What are you, stupid? Everybody in town knows the story,” their leader answered. “His whole family are babykillers. They took his mom to the plant and they cut out her baby and hung it on a meat hook. Isn’t that right, Babykiller?”

“You’ll be sorry,” Jimmy sighed.

“What did you say?” The lead boy stepped closer; his companions scuffled their feet on the macadam as they followed. “You little fuck, what did you—“ Then the three aggressors began shaking their hands in the air, brushing at their arms and legs. Jimmy was surprised at how girlish their shrieks were as he watched the black and yellow blurs of a dozen wasps diving at their faces and hands. The boys fled in a blind panic, not looking back, falling to the ground more than once.

“Jimmy.” He already knew Fox was behind him; he didn’t turn around.

“You don’t have to go to school anymore, Jimmy. I told you that. You have more important work to do.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

That night, Jimmy lay in bed thinking about his parents. Rumors about them had been making the rounds for over a year now. His mother and father assured him there was no truth to them, but their explanations of what had really gone on were unsatisfying. They said he wasn’t old enough to understand, that he shouldn’t worry about it.

From what Jimmy had pieced together, his mother and father had been in a big argument, bigger than any they’d ever had before, right in front of everyone at the plant. And then his mother had gotten sick somehow. She tried to get to the bathroom but didn’t make it in time, and ended up bleeding all
over the floor. One schoolmate who’d taunted Jimmy about it said Jimmy’s father pushed his mother down, but Jimmy didn’t believe that.

To help himself fall asleep, Jimmy muttered one of Fox’s stories:

The Leg
Long ago there was a man who became so furious that he tore himself in half. He threw his bottom half down a deep well, where it lay in the cold dark for seven years. Then the man’s left leg couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore, so it ripped itself away from the right leg and wriggled up the side of the well like a snake. Once out of the well, the leg crawled through the countryside for days until it came across the small cottage where the leg used to live. It waited until dark and then slithered into the house.

The next morning, the man rolled over in bed and felt something cold and hairy brush up against his arm. He threw back the bed sheets and there he saw the leg, which had crawled into bed with him during the night. “What is this thing!” the man shouted.

“I’m your leg!” answered the leg. “Don’t you want me back?”

“Leg?” the main cried. “I don’t know what that is!” He grabbed the leg by the big toe and tossed it into the fire, where the leg was burned to ash. “What a disgusting and incomprehensible nightmare,” the man said to himself, using his arms to crawl into the kitchen for breakfast.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

After breakfast, Jimmy was on his way up to his room when he heard his parents’ voices.

“What are we going to do with him?” His mother sounded like she was about to cry. “He just won’t go to church. People notice. They’re talking. He has to come to church with us, he has to.”

“I know,” his father was saying. “I — well, making him go to church when he doesn’t want to, that isn’t what Our Lord wants. He wants Jimmy to come to Him of his own free will.”

Jimmy gripped the top of the banister with both hands, pulling himself up. He leaned over to see his parents clearly.

“I…I know you’re right.” His mother wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I just…I just hate all the talk.”

Jimmy watched his father lean in to kiss his mother on the cheek. But before his lips touched her skin, he stopped, holding his face a few inches from her, his lips pursed. He looked confused, blinking his eyes and taking a sudden breath. He looked like he was trying to remember what it was he was about to do. Jimmy’s mother looked equally puzzled, and after a few awkward seconds, she took a step back. His father pulled back as well, and they looked at each other, not upset, not afraid, just uncertain. Jimmy’s father shook his head, as if to wake himself from a stupor; his mother gave a little shrug. Then they nodded and went their separate ways.

Later, Fox told Jimmy he’d be away for several hours. But before he left, he shared a new story.

Grandpa’s Favorite
There was an old man who lived in a house near the edge of the world, and he had four grandchildren. Every morning they would walk to the great glass wall that separated the world from what was beyond. One day, the eldest grandchild said, “Grandpa, if I was to climb to the top of that high wall, what would I find?” 

“I don’t know,” the old man answered. “Why don’t you try it, then come back and tell us?”

So the child began to climb. They watched him for a while, until he was a small dot, and then was gone.

The next day, the child returned, and they all gathered around him. 

“Well,” they asked, “What did you find?”

“They have a thing called Light,” the child said, “but I have no eyes, so it was useless to me.” And the child fell sick and died.

The next day, as they stood by the wall, the second oldest child said, “Grandpa, if I was to climb to the top of that high wall, what would I find?”

“I don’t know,” the old man answered. “Why don’t you try it, then come back and tell us?”

So the child climbed. When the child returned on the following day, they all gathered around him. “Well,” they asked, “What did you find?”

“They have a thing called Music,” the child said. “But I have no ears, so it was useless to me.” And the child fell sick and died.

The next day, as they stood by the wall, the third oldest child said, “Grandpa, if I was to climb to the top of that high wall, what would I find?”

“I don’t know,” the old man answered. “Why don’t you try it, then come back and tell us?”

So the child climbed. When the child returned on the following day, they all gathered around him. “Well,” they asked, “What did you find?” 

“They have a thing called Time,” the child said, “But I have no clock, so it was useless to me.” And the child fell sick and died.

The next day, as they stood by the wall, the youngest child said, “Grandpa, if I was to climb to the top of that high wall, what would I find?”

“Wait,” said the old man. He went into the house and returned with an iron box. “You are my favorite grandchild,” he said, “so before you climb, take these.” He opened the box. “These are eyes, and these are ears, and this is a clock.”

The child took the eyes, the ears, and the clock. And then, for the first time, he saw his grandfather, and heard his grandfather’s voice, and knew how long they’d been living in the house at the edge of the world. And he screamed in horror and tore himself to shreds.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Is someone there?”

The voice was so soft that Jimmy wondered, at first, if he’d imagined it. He stood still for a minute, listening. The room was dim, even with the sunlight that found its way through the narrow basement window he’d pushed open. The voice did not repeat itself, but seemed to Jimmy that the voice waited behind the only door in the room.

He knew that Fox wouldn’t like him coming here to see the Magician. Fox seemed to regret ever mentioning the Magician. But Fox had let enough details slip for Jimmy to find this place, a long-abandoned farmhouse across the road from the plant. “You can’t trust a magician, Jimmy,” Fox had told him. “All magicians are liars. And when magicians lie, their lies become real.”

Jimmy considered turning back, but he didn’t relish the thought of going outside so soon, smelling that carrion stink, or hearing the awful shrieks and the insect noises that drifted on the wind. So he approached the door and reminded himself of Fox’s warnings concerning magicians. Not to trust them, not to tell them your name, not to give them anything of yours, not to let them look into your eyes or touch you.

The door made no sound as Jimmy pushed it open. A few flies whirled around his head and sped off. The cage that the Magician was lying in looked just like the large dog kennels Jimmy had seen once at the state fair. This room had a light on, a bare bulb that hung from the ceiling and made shadows along the walls and floor. Jimmy stepped into the room and squinted at the figure lying in the cage. The Magician’s form was mostly covered by a dark blanket or sheet. Jimmy could only see the vague outlines of a body beneath, and a thin-fingered hand jutting past the blanket’s edge.

Jimmy cleared his throat.

“Is…Someone…there?” The Magician’s voice was faint, and not as deep as Jimmy had expected. He took one step closer, just as the Magician rolled over and the sheet fell away to reveal a face.

“Come closer,” the voice said. Jimmy didn’t move. He was staring at the Magician’s narrow chin and pale cheeks. It was a woman’s face, he realized, and a woman’s voice.

“Who…” the Magician whispered, sitting up slowly, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders.

“Who is it?”

“I’m…I’m…” Jimmy wasn’t sure what to say. He’d been looking into her eyes, contrary to Fox’s warning. But it didn’t seem to matter; the lady’s eyes were half-closed and distant, as if she were in a trance.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said to him. She was young, Jimmy realized, younger than his mother, younger than some of his teachers. Her hair was brown and reached to the bottom of her ears and was very messy, as if she’d been sick in bed for a week. Her lips looked dry and cracked. She stared at Jimmy as if she couldn’t see him properly.

Then her eyes widened a bit.

“I need help,” she said, not quite looking at him.

Jimmy considered this for a moment. Then he said, “Fox says it wants to eat you.”

“Fox…Something attacked me. It looked like a fox.”

“Why don’t you just magic yourself out of here?” Jimmy glanced back at the door, making sure it was still open. He’d forgotten the questions he’d been planning to ask, the questions about his parents and how to get them back to normal.

The Magician didn’t answer right away. She seemed to sag a bit beneath the sheet; her shoulders slumped and she wasn’t sitting up as straight. “What’s your name?” She asked.

Jimmy just shook his head, slowly.

“Look…There’s something you should know. There’s something around here. From…Somewhere else.” She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t concentrate…”

For a moment, she seemed to shake off her stupor.

“Listen,” she said, more urgently now, “you have to listen to me.”

“I already know all about it,” Jimmy said to her. “And it’s too late for you to do anything.”

He’d made a mistake, he realized. He’d come to ask for some way to fix things, a way that didn’t involve doing what Fox wanted him to do. But the Magician couldn’t help him. She couldn’t do anything. Jimmy sat down on the floor. Despite his disappointment, he felt like he should do something for her.

So he began to recite one of Fox’s stories.

The Mannequin in the Closet
There was a girl whose parents died when she was young, so she was sent to live with her aunt, who was a dressmaker, and her uncle, who was a tailor. The girl spent every day alone in the house while her aunt and uncle were working in their shop. They had told her that she was welcome to play anywhere in the whole house, but that she was never to open the closet door next to the big chest of drawers, up in the highest room of the attic.

Soon enough, she’d explored every nook and cranny in the house several times over, and her curiosity go the best of her. She decided that she had to see what was in that attic closet. She climbed three flights of stairs, entered the attic, stood in front of the door, closed her eyes tight and then turned the knob. 

When the door was open, she opened her eyes and saw two eyes looking right back at her. Leaning inside the closet was a mannequin, the same size as her, with glass eyes as blue as hers and blond hair as gold as hers and wearing a pretty dress just like hers. The little girl shrieked and turned and dashed for the attic staircase.

As she ran, she could hear the steady patter of footsteps following after.

She ran down the stairs, and behind her she could hear every step creak in turn. She ran into the parlor, closing the door behind her, and as she reached the kitchen she could hear the parlor door opening again, and as she exited the kitchen she heard behind her the slapping of feet against the kitchen tiles. She ran around to the back stairway and up to the second floor hall. She ran into her bedroom and slid beneath the big four-poster bed.

From her hiding place, she heard the kitchen door fly open, and then the sound of footsteps coming up the back stairway, and then the pitter-patter of footfalls coming toward the bedroom. Then she had an idea. She fled the bedroom and ran up the attic stairs and dashed into the closet and slammed the door closed. She crouched down in the darkness and gripped the doorknob with both hands and pulled the door as tight as she could. She heard the attic door open, and heard footsteps coming closer to her, and closer and closer. And then they stopped. The little girl heard a voice, and it said:

“You nasty mannequin. You won’t get out of that closet ever again.”

And then she heard the sound of the big chest of drawers being pushed tight against the closet door, and the attic door closing, and footsteps fading away down the attic stairs.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

After the story, Jimmy rose. “You can tell me a story if you want to.”

“What…Would you like to hear?”

“Tell me about the day you came to town.”

He didn’t expect her to comply, but she began talking. “I was exploring. With my mind, with my senses, with my body. I explored in every way I knew how. First I heard the cry of an infant, echoing through time. So I retrieved it from the bottom of a well, but it wasn’t an infant. Not anymore. It was just…  Flesh. Shaped like a baby, wearing its clothing…Animate, but not alive. Its head was like a mass of ground beef, squirming like worms….

“Then I went into the school. All the classrooms were empty. All the children and teachers were gathered in the cafeteria, sitting at the long tables, silent, staring. There were…heaps of bloody, butchered meat, piled on the tables. Every so often, someone reached over and ripped off a piece. They’d put it in their mouth and chew, not even brushing the flies and maggots off first. At three o’clock a bell rings, everyone springs to life, running and laughing and unaware of what they’d been doing….

“Then something took hold of my mind, and it pulled me…down a long, steel-plated hallway, marked with rust-colored handprints. It became narrower and narrower, and at the end...hooks and chains, the smell of rot, flies crawling on lips and eyelids. Decapitated cows wandering listlessly, the stumps of their severed heads opening and closing like mouths, vomiting clouds of horseflies and hornets.

And the kill floor, strewn with fingers and toes. And…a faceless mound, marbled pink, white. The fleshy pile, ragged, raw muscle and gristle and grease…it rears and unfolds itself into a vast maw…and the people walk in…a soft lipless mouth, rows of maggots hanging like teeth, a long throat that stretches into infinity…”

“Tell what you did then.” It was Fox’s voice. Jimmy jumped to his feet, opened his mouth to explain what he was doing there, but Fox interrupted.

“Go ahead, Juna. Tell what you did then.”

“It was horrible. I….”

“You offered yourself to It, didn’t you? Offered yourself to the Meat God, the King of Flies, the Flesh that Devours. Begged it for power in exchange for service. Am I wrong?” It was the first time Jimmy had ever heard Fox sound angry.

“I….”

“Admit it.” Fox paced around the cage as he spoke. “You expected this entity to be something you could bargain with. Something you could outwit. Something you could trade favors with, a fast track to knowledge and strength if you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

“All right. Yes. But it’s different now.” The Magician’s voice was stronger, steadier. She didn’t seem half-asleep anymore.

“Is it?”

“Yes! I saw the thing. I felt its…its breath on my soul. My God…I fouled myself and maybe I’ll always be tainted, but all I want now is to send that abortion back where it came from. I’ll fight it to the end. I’ll fight it. Just give me a chance.” She staggered to her feet, gripped the mesh of the cage.

Fox looked at Jimmy. “I put her here because this place is so close to the Meat God that magic is difficult to make,” he said “but she can’t stay for much longer, or the thing will sense her presence.”

Jimmy nodded, not sure he understood. “Our options are few and we could use the help. This is your
town, Jimmy. Your people. What do you think? Can we trust her ?”

He wanted to say he didn’t know. No adult had ever invited him to participate in one of their arguments before. He looked at the Magician, barely able to hold herself upright. Humbled, defeated, eyes downcast. And she reminded him of himself. Of how beaten he felt after the local bullies had their fun with him, how shamed he felt when his mother and father brushed his fears and aspirations aside like crumbs. How foolish he felt when his teachers sent him back to his desk, after he’d failed miserably to solve some math problem at the blackboard. He knew that feeling, and he knew it came with a determination to never make the same mistake again.

“Yes. I think…yes.”

Fox stared at Jimmy for seemed like a long while. Then Fox’s left ear twitched. “All right then,” he said. “She and I need to talk. I’ll see you at home.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

When he got to the house, Jimmy hopped off his bike before it came to a full stop. He slowed down as he entered, catching the screen door so it wouldn’t slam shut behind him. He didn’t expect his mother to be waiting in the living room. He’d imagined that he would slip inside, grab a few important things and slip out again. But when he saw her he couldn’t keep himself from approaching.

“Mom,” he said, his voice cracking, “I need to tell you something….” His mother looked at him quizzically. She was holding a bag of trash; something was leaking out of the bottom and creating a dark stain on the carpet. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Mom,” Jimmy said, “I have to go away. I have to leave town because Fox wants me to do something that I don’t want to and…well, I wanted to say…remember last year when you and Dad said I’d be having a little brother or sister soon? Remember? And I got mad and said I didn’t want it and I ran out of the house? Well, I…” He sniffed. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I really am. I—“

She dropped the bag, crossed her arms. “You’re the one they talk about in the hotbox,” she said, “aren’t you? The boy who won’t go to Meat Church? What was your name again? No, names don’t matter anymore.”

“Mom?” He rubbed the tears from his eyes.

His father entered the room. “Oh. Have we met. And you — you live here, too?”

She blinked at him. “Yes. It doesn’t matter. Today’s the day. We all become It.”

“That’s the boy.” His father stood next to his mother. They didn’t look at each other, they looked only at him. “That’s the one we need to bring. The one that Our Lord of Butchered Flesh has been waiting for.”

They moved toward him, calmly, patiently, and a pink, watery liquid was dripping from their hands. Even as Jimmy ran out the door, climbed shakily onto his bike, he was wondering if he could ever forget the putrid stink of the juices dribbling from his parent’s fingers.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The metal hallway leading into the Processing Center was very long, and its plated walls made sounds bounce around at odd angles. There was a faint humming that sounded almost like music.

“Wait,” Jimmy said.

Fox stopped walking. “Do you want one more story, then, before you do what has to be done?”

“Yes. Yeah, just one more, please.”

“ All right then. This one is called:

The Whispers in the Alley
Once there was a boy named Jimmy. Jimmy’s father was the manager at a meatpacking plant, and his mother was in charge of the plant’s finances. Jimmy was very unhappy because it seemed as if his mother and father didn’t like each other anymore, and didn’t like him, either. After school, Jimmy would ride his bike to the edge of town where his parents worked, and try to imagine what his parents were doing inside.

One day, Jimmy was coasting alongside the chain link fence in the back of the plant, when he thought he heard someone calling his name. He stopped his bike and walked up to the fence. And then he heard it again: “Jimmy…” 

It was a faint voice, not much more than a whisper. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the fence, where there was an alley between two of the plant’s larger buildings.

“Jimmy....”

There was a gap in the fence where someone had once cut through some of the links. Jimmy was able to separate the edges and slip through.

“Jimmy....”

Jimmy followed the sound of the voice, walking slowly down the alley, holding his hand over his nose and mouth because of the stink. At the far end was a kind of loading dock, and a long row of Dumpsters and a huge pile of sagging trash bags. Jimmy walked closer, following the whispers. He found a small green trash bag toward the bottom of the pile, with grease and blood spots all over it.

“In here, Jimmy,” whispered the voice, and Jimmy could see the bag move as the thing inside it spoke. “Help me.”

“Where did you come from?” Jimmy asked the bag, crouching down to hear it more clearly.

“I was born, same as you,” said the thing. “But I was born alone, with no one to talk to. If you’ll be my friend, and tell me stories, I’ll do great favors for you.”

So Jimmy brought the bag home. The thing asked many questions, and Jimmy told it how unhappy he was. The thing in the bag said it could make Jimmy happy again, that it could make his parents forget about being mad all the time. It told Jimmy to untie the bag and reach inside, and he did. He only
put the tips of his fingers in and immediately Jimmy felt something cold and wet. He yanked his hand out and saw, stuck to his little finger, the tiniest bit of raw, greasy meat.

“Feed this to your parents,” the thing in the bag told him, “and they won’t be angry anymore.”

Jimmy thought and thought about this, and decided he would bury the meat, and then take the thing to the river and throw it in. But when his father got home he shouted at Jimmy for not putting away his bike, and when his mother got home she yelled at his father for something Jimmy couldn’t understand, and two of them began their usual argument about someone called “Miss Carey” and Jimmy decided he’d do what the thing in the bag said after all. So he dropped the little bit of meat into the Crock-Pot where dinner was simmering. Neither his mother nor father seemed to notice anything different about the meal. Jimmy wasn’t hungry, so he threw away his food when nobody
was looking.

The next morning, Jimmy came down to breakfast to see his mother and father sitting at the table. For the first time in as long as he could remember, they were talking to each other in calm, polite tones. This seemed like a miracle to him. But then he noticed that every so often his mother would look at his father with a strange expression on her face, as if she wasn’t sure who he was. And he caught his father, now and again, with the same expression. This scared Jimmy. So that night he took the bag back to the alley at the meatpacking plant and tossed it into one of the Dumpsters. And as the bag fell, it kept whispering “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy....”

But that wasn’t the end of the story, Because the thing in the bag had grown stronger on what it had taken from Jimmy’s parents. It found others, and tricked them, and they fed on its flesh, it fed on their spirits. Soon it had emptied several people of their memories, their stories, the things that made them who they were. And then it had slaves that carried it deep into the plant, and they brought more people to taste its offerings; any who were able to resist got chopped into pieces and fed raw to the Meat. And it grew stronger and bigger, and soon everyone in town was feeding on it, and it was feeding on everyone.

Everyone except Jimmy. Because Jimmy’s friend Fox had come to town. And he protected Jimmy from the Meat. In the end, it would be up to Jimmy, who had been first to feed the meat, to kill the thing. Fox had figured out a way to do it. But they had to do it soon, because the Meat had found a way to grow little bits of itself inside the people whose minds it had hollowed out. The Meat had tried it first with the body of a little baby, changing it into something the Meat could understand. Soon it would do the same to all its slaves. And then the Meat would have hundreds of bodies and would be unstoppable. 

“And now the time has come,” Fox finished.

“Are you really the same Fox I used to talk to when I was a little kid?”

“Does that matter?”

“I guess not.” The echoing chorus of flies and flying insects was louder now. “I think I’m ready.”

“I would do it if I could,” Fox said. “But I’m a magician . My stories are too strong, they would make that thing too powerful, make it unbeatable.”

“Sure,” Jimmy replied. They had reached the end of the line. Jimmy stopped at the door. “Will I see my parents again?”

“I’m not certain,” Fox said. “But everything that made your parents who they were is inside the Meat.” Fox didn’t look like a fox anymore; he was a tall man with red hair, dressed something like a cowboy, in a long reddish-brown duster coat and wide-brimmed hat. He had a pistol holstered on each hip. The lady magician walked next to him, alert and self-assured now, looking something like a nurse because she was dressed all in white.

Jimmy said, “I can feel them in there.” He bent down to grab the handle, then stood up, raising the gate. It slid upwards like a garage door. “Can you come in the room with me?”

Fox shook his head. “Once things get going, the Meat will call on its servants to defend it,” Fox said. “Juna and I will have to stay out here to keep them from getting to you.”

“Oh. All right.” Jimmy raised the door until it was just higher than his head. Juna knelt next to him, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jimmy,” she said, “I’ll go in with you if you want me to.” Behind her, Fox crossed his arms and frowned.

Jimmy looked into her eyes. “No,” he said. “I didn’t think I could do this. I was going to run away today.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked him.

He licked his lips. “I thought…I thought if I run, I’ll never be able to stop running. And always…in my head, I’ll always carry everything that happened here, without knowing how it all ends.”

“That’s my boy,” Fox whispered. He laid a hand on Jimmy’s other shoulder, gave it a squeeze. Then the two adults stepped back. “Good luck, Jimmy.” Fox said. “I know you can do it. I’m proud of you.”

Jimmy walked through the gateway. The door slid closed, softly, after he passed.

He didn’t hear what they said next:

“Does he stand a chance?” Juna retrieved a palm-sized mirror from her pocket as she asked.

“Of surviving? No. The thing will swallow him whole. That’s what I’m counting on.”

“You are?”

“I’ve been preparing him for weeks. Seeding his mind with stories. Special stories, carrying subliminal engrams to traumatize the creature with conflicting accounts of its own existence. I crafted them as best I could, based on what I’ve learned about its nature. It’s the best hope we’ve got. You can’t fight a thing like this conventionally—”

“Maybe,” she answered sharply. “Or maybe the time you’ve spent in this thing’s sphere of influence has warped your judgment, and you just gave it exactly what it wanted.” She held the mirror in her left hand and moved it in a slow figure-eight, frowning. “Something’s not right….”

Fox shrugged, drew his guns and cocked the triggers. “The world is just information, Juna. Stories. When you eat something, you’re making its story part of your story. When you work magic, you substitute one story for another. But we’ll have to debate all that later, if there is a later.” He handed one of the guns to Juna.

“With luck, spells will come easier once the Meat is distracted. If not….” He shrugged again. “They’re coming. It will be the housewifeflies who arrive first. Ignore their eyes and aim for the thorax.”


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