Embracing the Shadows

by Gavin Green

  "You plan on taking Mr. Dean?" Tomasino asked, not sounding very surprised. He slowly reached for his sword again and said, "Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to do that." I got the impression that his heart wasn't in it.

  "As a matter of self-preservation," Viggo replied calmly, "perhaps you should find some leniency in your code of honor. Besides, it was your Lady Le Meur who initiated an abduction of her own this evening. I am responding in kind - an eye for an eye, as they say. Unlike what she would offer, I give my word to return Mr. Dean to the care of his faction in due course, and in better condition than his current one."

  Tomasino took a second or two to think it over. "Very well," he finally said, dropping his hand away from the sword hilt. It was obvious that in any scenario, Evan would be taken.

  "It is good to see that you employ wisdom with your position as the Doyenne's enforcer, Mr. Tomasino. Until we meet again - and we shall - I bid you farewell."

  I took that as the signal to get busy. I hurried over to Evan and simply dragged him back to the van, as well as the shackles that were meant for me. Viggo slid into the passenger seat while I threw Evan in the back. I locked the shackles on Phillip and gently rested him next to the disfigured douchebag. Coming around to the driver's door, I saw Tomasino still standing there in front of Realm Tower. I felt sort of embarrassed for him, although he really didn't have a choice. When it came to Viggo, no one did.

  THUNDER

  Phillip was to remain a 'lodger' at my new place, in the same room I was kept in. At least it was in better condition for him than what I had to deal with. Viggo suggested that Milo could fetch supplies and deliver food to Phillip, but I said I'd do it myself. I was advised to have little to no interaction with my houseguest; solitude would encourage clarity of mind. I knew the truth of that.

  Before Viggo left with Evan's body late that night, he told me to keep an eye on my Planner for changes in my schedule. I couldn't say that I minded if a sewer maintenance chore got pushed back, but I was a little anxious about what it would be replaced with. I had a feeling that after the chaos at Realm Tower, the stakes had somehow been raised.

  While I was buying gas station food for Phillip about an hour before dawn, a question came to my mind. I texted Viggo on the way home, asking how he knew where I was earlier when Le Meur beckoned me. His answer was to the point. 'Audra called - I checked GPS tracker app that was downloaded into your phone before giving it'. Orwell's 'Big Brother' had some competition, not that I minded. And yes, before you ask, '1984' was one of the paperbacks given to me during my own captivity. I read it twice.

  Since the Planner hadn't changed when I checked it the next day, I went shopping. Besides groceries for Phillip, I got myself a punching bag, workout equipment, and a nice home gym. After setting all of it up in one of the empty offices and then fixing myself some dinner, I didn't have long to wait until sundown.

  I lounged around for a while with a drink or three, surfing the net to catch up on local news. There was no mention of a break-in at Realm Tower, let alone shots fired or a rat invasion. No surprise there; the Adepts most likely had the top brass of the police in their pockets, and maybe the media too.

  Then I saw a report with a name that caught my eye. Following a tip, police found the bodies of bank owner Stanley Everett and his wife in a packing crate in a warehouse. One of the pictures that were included with the story was a shot of the building; the sign on it read, 'Trade Solutions Import/Export'. I knew that name; hell, I had a business card for it. That was Declan McKenna's company. I wondered if Gwen knew any more about that whole thing.

  Giving enough time for night to settle in, I checked the 'hemo-net' for any updates in the Planner. Sure enough, there was. I was to attempt being unseen again until two further successes were achieved to strengthen my skill in that Gift. Any other duties were contingent on the completion of that one. The flag note told me to begin as soon as possible, and for detailed reports to be made.

  An hour later I stood in the parking lot of a nightclub, next to a light pole with a dead bulb. I picked that particular club because Cordell mentioned in the past that he went there once in a while. Unless I made myself ignored, the predominantly black patrons were sure as hell gonna notice a white guy standing near their cars. On the bad side, Cord didn't stop in that night so I didn't get the chance to at least see him. On the good side, though, none of the clientele coming or going gave me a second look.

  Checking the sewer map after I got home, I saw that the Water Department had a routine sewer line inspection planned for the next day. Even better, it was only about two miles from me. I put some ham sandwiches through the slot of Phillip's door the next morning; I ignored his loud demands for answers and went down to the basement to use my personal sewer access. The inspection was set for an area that I hadn't explored yet, so I had to scout it beforehand.

  Finding a niche where one circular tunnel connected to a larger one, I pressed myself back into it when I saw the beams of flashlights further down the pipe. The workers' lights passed over the side of me once or twice, but they kept moving while they talked about a coworker finding a shitload of dead rats and shattered glass in a downtown pipe. When they walked past, one of them looked right at me but didn't even hesitate. I went home again, washed the stink off, and typed my second report with a smile.

  An encrypted message from Viggo was waiting for me when I checked that evening. He first gave me short but strong praise for adapting to the Gift of Shadows so quickly. I think my military stealth/stalk training helped out quite a bit, but it felt good to get Viggo's approval no matter how I earned it.

  Viggo's message also told me to expect Mr. Merritt to visit later that evening; he would be "delivering items for further testing, as well as information". I liked Barnabus, although I couldn't figure him out. From what I was told, he came from a very rustic and unsophisticated beginning. That clashed with the Barnabus I knew, who came off as more of a philosopher or college professor. Granted, the deer pelt pullover he always wore didn't go along with my scholar concept, but still.

  Barnabus called before he showed up; I opened the parking gate and let him pull in. I greeted him as he got out of his sweet ride - a sky blue 1951 Chevy truck in perfect condition. He had me help him bring two big boxes inside, saying they were mine to keep. Sitting in the break room, I opened the box in my hands and found all sorts of pet supplies and food. Barnabus opened the other box, and a big cat lifted its head out to look around.

  That thing was fucking huge, three times the size of what I imagined a normal cat to be. It had a gray and white coat of long hair over its broad frame, and felt solid when Barnabus handed it to me. I figured it was an altered minion cat by its size, although it seemed mellow and friendly . . . and didn't have any weird mutations. "Is this one of yours?" I asked him.

  "Not at all," Barnabus said airily. "Per a request of your lord, I had one of my own minions visit an animal shelter and pick out a pet befitting the circumstance. I believe a fine choice was made."

  "Wait," I said, looking away from its green eyes to his mismatched ones, "this is a normal cat?"

  "He is a Maine Coon breed," Barnabus explained as he began setting the pet supplies on the table. "They are the largest of domestic cats. The shelter employees named him Thunder; he seems to respond to it well enough. However, that can be altered if you choose."

  I didn't know shit about cat breeds, especially that one. "No, Thunder sounds like a good name, I guess." I set the big cat on the table and turned back to Barnabus. "Not that I don't appreciate it, Mr. Merritt, but why did you get me a cat?"

  Barnabus leaned back and crossed his legs. "There were two reasons for that," he said. "The first, as I stated a moment ago, was because a request was made to find you a suitable pet. The second reason filtered my choice. Given the vague parameters, I asked Ms. Page what type of animal she thought you'd be inclined to favor. Without hesitation, she said that you wanted a cat. She was correct, I presume?"


  "Huh, yeah, she was. But," I said, petting Thunder while he sniffed at the supplies, "you said something about befitting the circumstance. What circumstance?"

  "The circumstance of a pioneering endeavor," Barnabus replied with conviction. "Thunder is not merely meant to be a pet; he is also the focus of your continued training. That I am aware of, you will be the first minion to put effort into learning the Gift of Fauna. The attempt itself is an auspicious occasion."

  "Fauna . . . you mean like how my commander controls rats, or how Ragna can do some wild shit with her dogs? I'm supposed to learn how to do that?" I asked skeptically. The Gift of Shadows was one thing, but becoming a 'beast master' like that stupid 80s movie? "Look, Mr. Merritt, I get along fine with cats and dogs, but I didn't really grow up with 'em. I'm out of my depth here."

  "Then if only to appease your lord," Barnabus said evenly, "you will strive to attain an understanding of it." His voice was calmer when he added, "My own ability of that Gift is laughable compared to that of your lord or elder Ragna. Nonetheless, I can offer a few simple instructions that may set the course for your initial approach."

  I huffed out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

  "Afterwards, your lord will assume the duties of your education. On that note, he also asked that I give you some details of historical value this evening."

  "History was never my best subject in school," I said with a frown. "But if he wants me to learn it, I'll do my best."

  Barnabus nodded. "I believe that there are two elements to help a student succeed. The first is a proper attitude, which you at least somewhat possess. The second is an interest in the subject matter." He leaned forward, aiming that bulging red eye at me, and asked, "Do you have any idea what 'the Veleti' actually refers to?"

  I only had a vague notion that the Veleti was a tribe or clan or something, and that Viggo was once one of them. I'd always wanted to ask him about it, but he seemed reluctant to divulge anything. I was being given a chance to learn about my commander's past, so hell yes I was interested in the subject matter.

  HISTORY

  I set up the litter box and food bowls for Thunder and left him on his own to explore his new home. Not long after Barnabus and I went upstairs to the lounge to relax for my history lesson, the big shaggy cat joined us. Apparently, he wasn't the solitary type. I didn't mind that at all.

  Barnabus first explained why he was giving me this information rather than Viggo. It was a matter of perspective, he said; my commander felt that a third party would offer the facts with more objectivity. Fortunately, Barnabus was one of the very few beings in existence who knew those facts.

  Viggo was born in the mid-fifth century CE in an area that is now eastern Germany. He was brought up in a time when his parents joined with other Slavic common folk to repel the last remnants of Roman oppression from their lands. That group formed into a strong tribe, calling themselves the Veleti. They ventured north to expand the holdings of the tribe's growing numbers. Coming across smaller tribes, the Veleti either assimilated them into their ranks or conquered them if there was resistance.

  Expanding into and settling of what is now northeastern Germany, the word 'Veleti' became a blanket title for all of the smaller tribes that formed under its rule. Viggo belonged to the original body of the Veleti, and at a young age became a warrior for his people. Besides dealing with any internal conflicts, there were continuous clashes with Obodrites and Saxons. It sounded like Viggo led a hard, bloody life.

  One late autumn day, sometime in the later fifth century, Viggo and two of his men had begun the long trek back home after a hunting trip near the North Sea. They were woken up that night by the sound of distant chanting. Viggo and his guys were camped on the edge of a forest; the noise came from deeper into those woods, and they decided to check it out. I thought about that scene, moving through dense woods at night to check out a bunch of strangers chanting. Those guys had balls.

  It wasn't hard to find the chanters; they had a few torches burning around the perimeter of a small clearing. The leader of the group was a woman whose inhuman presence had Viggo's guys wanting to get the hell out of there. Viggo, on the other hand, was immediately attracted to her.

  Long story short, he approached the assembly alone. The leader, who was revered by her people as a goddess, apparently liked Viggo's bravery and imposing size. She made him a minion that night, and ordered him to hunt down his two men and bring them back to her. He managed to do it; they weren't far away, and weren't a match for him. Two nights later, one of Viggo's men was tied to a tree and sacrificed in a bloody ritual. About a week later, so was the other one.

  Just to make it clear, both Viggo and the priestess/goddess woman were basically pagans - a lot of people back then still were. Barnabus didn't elaborate, so I didn't know if all pagans worshipped the same set of gods or what. In any case, the priestess had a very different way of expressing her particular set of beliefs than Viggo's people did. Or maybe she was just on a power trip, and it was all about the blood. No one knows for sure.

  Her name was Fennore. She was a hemo in Ireland and had been doing her druid goddess thing for a long time there. That ended when Christianity swept over the island in the early fifth century. She and her followers, which included most of her mortal descendants, got a big boat and got the hell out. They sailed under England and all the way around Denmark, finally landing in Obodrite territory. Fennore had some trouble with those people, so she and her followers started migrating east near the coast.

  For the sake of her follower's safety, Viggo convinced Fennore to have them join the Veleti. She stayed away from those settlements, feeding on animals and human sacrifices brought by her followers when they visited. As Fennore's minion, Viggo spent a lot of his time with her. She knew he felt a strong duty and connection to his people, so equal time was allowed for him to be with them as well. Even better, Fennore realized that ordering Viggo to attack his own men that first night really upset him, so she never asked that he bring another sacrifice unless it was an enemy. Aw, how nearly human of her.

  I shouldn't have thought too poorly of Fennore. I mean, Viggo saw something good in her, so I should've at least kept an open mind. By the things Barnabus told me, though, that wasn't easy to do. But just to stir the pot, it turns out that I was very distantly related to her. I'll get to that in a bit.

  Things went on that way for a while. Fennore's followers blended in, some changing their names to Germanic ones or marrying in. Viggo divided his time between being seen among his people, getting into battles and skirmishes with enemies, and visiting Fennore. I guess they had a real connection. She brought him into the night, and they became lovers. I wondered how that worked. Barnabus avoided the topic of bodily functions and explained that the sharing of hemo blood is very intimate, and gives greater ecstasy than feeding on human blood ever could. Better than a strong orgasm? I had my doubts.

  A number of years later, when it seemed the right time, Viggo made a point of letting his closest friends know he was going out on a scouting trip. Then he simply didn't return; his death would've been assumed. He and Fennore found a large cave that had a small entrance a mile or so inland and stretched underground to a rocky coast. They remained in that domain for decades. The war parties that travelled nearby made feeding easy.

  During that time, Fennore gathered more followers as well as some of her own distant descendants to live in a section of the huge cave. Those humans who weren't related eventually became compliant to Viggo's presence after he and Fennore continually fed from them. I guessed it had some mellowing effect, like a lobotomy. Fennore continued her rituals; Viggo didn't get involved, and left her to it.

  After a long while, though, Viggo got restless; he wanted to be with his people again. Over a generation had passed for them and all the faces he knew were gone, but he didn't care. The people were still Veleti - his people. So Viggo slowly introduced himself as some powerful being to the new generation of the tribe, so
on establishing himself as a local warlord. In a fairly remote area, he had a fortress built that was big enough to bunk Fennore's lineage and his own trusted warriors. It sounded pretty cool.

  Fennore and her followers still did their dark druid stuff, but only in the fortress courtyard or out in the woods. People found out anyway. Viggo took his company out on raids to make sure his domain was secure. As a bonus, his people prospered from the loot he brought back. In those fights, he sometimes ran into other hemos, most of whom were leading the enemy's forces. Being of a greater scion, he killed or defeated all that he met. Word spread from those encounters. Viggo and Fennore became recognized names, and not necessarily in a good way.

  More years passed while the Deviant couple kept up with their habits and interests. A trio of supposedly young hemos came to the fortress one night, asking to serve in their company. They spent a long time gaining Viggo's and Fennore's trust, all the while using their mental Gifts to sour the villager's thoughts. It didn't work so well in reference to Viggo; he was a good and generous leader. On the other hand, the villagers were always nervous about Fennore. It was easy to turn their fear of her into hate.

  Those young hemos belonged to a small sect that used their immortal blood to delve into some creepy occult shit. Barnabus used the word 'macabre'. I guess the sect didn't like what Fennore was up to, or saw her as some sort of spooky competition. Minions were made out of some of the village leaders, who kept everyone riled up during the day. It was getting ugly in Viggoville.