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You don’t want to face this. Oh hell, you don’t want to face this. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck double fuck you do not not not want to face this ever. No one should have to. This is not something anyone should ever have to deal with. God, God, Gods you do not want to face this, you want to be somewhere else, anywhere else-
You meet Aradia when you are eight.
It is the first time you are Calling, and your brother has assured you many times that people almost never get anything to Call back at first. He says it took him five times to get anything to respond at all and three more before he found his own partner, Equius.
You tell yourself you will not be disappointed if nothing happens. If it took your Bro that long, it would probably take you even longer.
However, you kneel in front of carefully chalked runes on the ground and inhale the burning spices. Your breath makes the candles flicker a little. You are not wearing your shades. You glance quickly to the door- yeah, Bro is still leaning against it, ready to cut in if something bad happens. No demons or anything should be able to Follow your voice here because of all the wards the two of you have set up over the years, but it’s sometimes better to be safe then sorry.
He gives you a small nod. You’re not sure if it’s a signal to begin, or him wishing you luck. You start anyway.
You place the palms of your hands either side of the circle, close your eyes for better concentration, and begin to recite the Latin incantation that has been ingrained into your memory.
When the final word leaves your mouth, you sit very still and keep your eyes closed. You wait.
Nothing happens.
Your heart clenches a little, and the disappointment you swore you wouldn’t feel rises in your throat. You swallow over a dry tongue and begin the incantation again, shakier this time.
“Ego voco in ténebris, perdito-“
A high, girlish laugh startles you from saying the next words. “Is that all you can say, silly?”
Your eyes fly open. Floating cross-legged in the middle of the chalked circle is a girl, older than you but younger than Bro (she’s 17, but you only find that out later) with red-brown hair and large brown eyes. She grins at you.
“My name’s Aradia, what’s yours?”
You continue to stare in open-mouthed awe, not saying anything. She tilts her head at you and speaks again, humor in her voice.
“Who’s the dead one here, me or you?”
“Uh.” You blink several times. “My…My name’s Dave.”
You can practically hear your brother facepalming behind you. This snaps you out of your state of shock, and you remember what you’re meant to be doing in the first place.
“I,” You stutter slightly. “I want to make an Agreement with you.”
“Oh!” A grin spreads over her face. “What are you, a Necromancer?”
“Kind of.” For lack of a better word, yes, but Necromancers are almost always pure Black and use dead bodies, not just Spirits. What your family does, your brother has explained, is Grey. Too meddling to be White, not harmful enough to be Black. That’s what you call yourselves though, because ‘Spirit Caller’ or ‘Shaman’ doesn’t sound as cool. “…Would that be something you’d be okay with?” You actually can’t believe this is going as well as it is.
“Hmm.” The ghost named Aradia tapped her chin. “There’s something in it for me, right?”
“Depends.” Of course there was, that was how it worked. An Agreement requires a trade between the human and spirit. The human gains the spirits partnership- the ghost lends them their strength and power to channel any way they needed to. What the ghost receives though differs from person to person. Equius had wanted his sister taken care of, for example. Your brother says it’s meant to be a symbiotic relationship (you marvel at the huge word but pretend you understand it). “What would you want?”
This is almost more important then getting something to Answer in the first place. Because sometimes, the really powerful spirits asked for, like, your immortal soul to join them in hell after you died or something. Your brother had had an offer like that.
“…How about this.” Says the ghost. “I think, in the future, there’s going to be a point where I am going to want very much to be solid for a few minutes. When that happens, you need to lend me the energy to do it.”
You glace to your brother. His face is blank, eyes hidden behind shades, but he tilts his head to you. An okay- he doesn’t see anything wrong with what she’s asking for. He’s saying it’s up to you.
She came the first time you ever Called. She has a nice smile and a nice laugh. Something about her resonates with something deep in you, like maybe you two are made of the same stuff, just put together differently.
You let your lips tip up, like you’ve seen your brother do. “Sounds good to me. Deal?”
The ghost named Aradia, your new partner, smiles broadly. “Deal.”
You reach out and rub a piece of the chalk ring away, and then it’s done.
(Later your brother tells you that you might be kind of a natural.)
(It is one of the best days of your life.)
“Dave, snap out of it!”
“Now isn’t the time, Strider! Save it, bottle it up until we’re done, you’re the only one who can do this!”
“I kn0w h0w hard this is Dave, but he is g0ing to kill every 0ne of you if y0u d0n’t fight! C0me 0n n0w, I’m right here. I’ve always been right here Dave, we can d0 this together just like we’ve d0ne everything else-“
The worst day of your life undoubtedly takes place the summer you are 12, sometime in early July. (July 9th , like you will ever forget)
(You later learn this was about the worst summer ever for almost everyone you care about, what with John’s dad and Jade’s summer camp being not as innocent as it seemed and the whole Rose fiasco, but you have no idea of that at the time.)
It is on July 9th, at 8:34, when Equius appears in the kitchen where you are eating Mac and Cheese and Bro is scanning some shitty magazine.
“Dirk.” He says, and he’s panting. “Dirk, it’s…He’s…” The look on the ghost’s face can only be described as fear, and you feel a little uneasy. Equius had been alive during the Great Depression; he had entered street fights to earn money for his family and died of a broken neck. He is tough, strong, and has seen enough shit so that not much shakes him anymore.
He is definitely sort of really shaken right now.
Bro glances up, folds the magazine to the side, stays as expressionless and calm as ever. “How much time?”
“Not much at all. Minuets, if that.” His forehead might have been damp, had he still been able the sweat. “Dirk, I’m so sorry, I-“
“Not the time. Or the thing to say.” Your brother gets to his feet. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Equius.” You feel Aradia’s presence behind you suddenly. “What’s going on?”
You echo her. “Yeah Bro. What’re you talking about?”
They both ignore you.
“Stupid question, but you’re sure?” Bro’s full attention is on his partner. “No doubt at all?”
“None. I wish there was, but there is nothing else it could be.”
Your brother sighs and gets to his feet. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t expect it. We didn’t expect it.”
“I still could have-“
“Done nothing to prevent this.” Bro’s voice leaves no room for argument, and Equius’s mouth snaps shut. “At least we have a plan, right?”
“Ah…Right. Of course. The plan.” He fidgets.
“Hey!” By now you are on your feet as well. “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?”
Aradia marches right up to Equius and leans in close, effectively invading his personal space. Equius clears his throat, clearly flustered.
“Equius. Tell me what you two are keeping from us.” She demands. “Now.”
Equius has always had kind of a…Thing for Aradia, which you normally try to ignore because weird, but right now it seems to be working in your favor.
“I…Um…Miss Aradia? If you would please back up, I-“
“We’ll tell you, back off before you kill him again.” Bro’s voice has dropped back into a lazy drawl. “Relax. Just give us a sec. We need to start the plan, then I’ll tell you. Calm the fuck down.”
You go and stand next to Aradia as Equius swoops back to your brother, hovering over his shoulder. You stand up as straight as you can and cross your arms.
“So what’s up?”
“I said I have to start the plan first, didn’t I?” He crosses the kitchen, mutters an incantation, and opens an always-locked closet. You always thought he kept old music equipment, or maybe something less innocent, in there. It is empty. On the doors and walls are painted wards. It takes you a fraction of a second to realize they are the kind meant to keep things in.
You feel a rush of anxiety for reasons you can’t name. “Bro-“
“Equius.” He says, not looking at you, not acknowledging you spoke, “Now.”
Equius moves suddenly, quickly, with a swiftness that shocks you both. He loops his arms around Aradia’s, pins them behind her back, and drags her.
“What-“ The outrage is clear in her voice.
“It’s for your own good, Miss Aradia.” He says levelly.
You move forward in outrage. “What the fuck? Let her-“
Then your brother’s behind you- he’s always been better at flashstepping, god damn it- and pins you like Equius just pinned your partner. You try to cry out but the wind is knocked out of you and you are suddenly spun and thrown and you collide with the back of the closet with a thud. Aradia joins you a second later, and then the door slams shut and there is a click of a lock. You throw yourself at it and pound it with your fists. Aradia floats behind you, the wards making her just as powerless.
“Bro! Fuck you, let me out, this isn’t funny! If this is some weird training thing I swear I’ll-“
“Dave!” His voice is sharp, commanding, telling you to listen or else. You respond like a solider. “I’m about to tell you something, and I have never been more deadly serious in my life. Do you understand me?”
You swallow.
“You are going to stay in there until someone lets you out. You are not going to make a single noise, no matter what you see or hear. Am I clear?”
No, he’s not, he’s not being clear at all and that’s scaring you more then you want to let on. But when you find your voice, what you say is,
“Yeah. Crystal.” And your monotone never breaks.
(That’s the last thing you ever say to him.)
You follow orders.
Even as you hear the front door shatter open, all you do is shove off your shades and push your eyes against the crack in the door and try to see what’s going on. Even as you see a huge, black…Thing fly into the room on bat wings, you only clench your hands together. Even as your brother and Equius square off against the…the…demon, it’s a demon, there’s no way that’s not a demon, you only force your breathing to come slow and steady. Even as you see them fight better then you’ve ever seen before, as you realize that Bro is honestly giving this fight everything he has, you press back to where you can sense Aradia, like a child clutching a security blanket, and don’t make a sound.
Even when a sword goes through his chest and he makes this wet little gasp, more of surprise then pain, and slumps first to his knees and then to his back and then stops moving, you only stuff your fist in your mouth and bite.
Once the thing leaves, you’re pretty sure Equius’s last act as a Bound Spirit is to open the closet door.
You pack up a backpack, grab your sword, call for Aradia, and leave the house without crying once.
(That comes later.)
“Please, Dave! Please, you need to pull yourself together!”
“David Strider, this is not a god damned request!”
“Hey, you know how I’m always saying how I’m not a damsel in distress and you don’t always need to swoop in and save me? Here’s me saying that this once, I am really in distress and I actually need saving!”
You have a lead. An actual, honest to goodness lead that you’re 99% sure isn’t just chasing a wild goose in a circle. It has been almost a year since you had a good lead.
That’s how you ended up here, creeping through the darkened hallways of an empty office building in the middle of the night, channeling Spirit energy to your eyes to improve your night vision. You don’t do that very often, because it makes your eyes glow and glowing red eyes are creepy, but like hell are you going to use a flashlight in this situation.
How some off-shoot of the Crocker Company could possibly have anything to do with the literal demon that had skewered your only family with a sword, you’re not quite sure yet. That’s what you’re hoping to find out.
You are 16 years old and on a mission. Because that thing, whatever it is, needs to die. And you will take so much pleasure in killing it.
Aradia sweeps back from where she’s been scouting ahead. “Everything looks clear,” she says.
You nod. “Good. Not that I couldn’t handle it if we had company.” You touch the hilt of the sword at your waist.
Aradia grins in a way that would probably be really unnerving to anyone who didn’t know her. “I have nothing but faith in you!”
Your partner is awesome.
Assured that the building is empty, you feel comfortable enough to speed up, flashstepping to corners and pausing then flashstepping again. It takes you half the time it normally would to get to the office you’re looking for. You drop the enchantment on your eyes and slowly, silently, open the door.
Someone is already there, kneeling in front of a file cabinet and rustling through it, back to you. You freeze. You pull your sword out and draw a small amount of energy from Aradia, channeling it to the blade and making it glow an incandescent orange. Aradia puts a hand on your shoulder that you don’t feel with your skin, but with your soul. You take a few steps forward, and the figure on the floor doesn’t realize you’re there.
And then they suddenly do, when you’re two feet or so away, and the person spins around. However they do so too fast and knock themselves off balance. They go sprawling on the floor facing you. In an awkward but weirdly competent maneuver, they pull a claw hammer of all things from behind them and brandish it at you. “I-I’m armed!” They say, in a voice that holds a slight quaver.
Wait.
You blink, clear your eyes. Stare a second, blink again.
You find yourself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes set in an achingly familiar face.
Once or twice in the past 4 years, you’ve read cliché romance novels for lack of anything better to do. Hey, they were a decent distraction, and ironic as hell. And one of those cliché romance lines you never understood was ‘he felt like coming home.’ Or, you never understood it until now, because that’s pretty fucking close to what you feel like as you gawk into the face of John Egbert.
If there is one thing you miss as much as your brother, it’s your friends, because you had a fucking sitcom friendship going on there. Like, at some point between kindergarten and 7th grade you all stopped being Dave and John and Jade and Rose and became Dave n’John n’Jade n’Rose. You all ran into each other, blended, became a seamless machine of awesome. Jade was fun and perky and an unflappable badass who took no shit, Rose was snarky and cynical and just the right kind of crazy that made people listen, John was a dreamer who loved bad movies and kind of an asshole, but not really the bad kind of asshole if that made any sense, and you were pretty sure you were just the douchebag they put up with though you’ve been told otherwise.
But there was no one you have ever clicked with so fast, so naturally, as you did with John Egbert. You weren’t on the same wavelength- no, that was you and Rose. He didn’t even make you laugh really easily, that was Jade. But you have never quite had the quiet sort of understanding and comradeship you had with John with anyone else. He has always been your best friend.
Long story short, this is definitely, no doubt, John Egbert looking at you right now with wide eyes.
“…Dave?” He splutters. “Dave Strider?” And then his eyes shift to behind your shoulder, and if possible they get wider. “You know there’s a ghost behind you?”
You blink in confusion, and the first thing you say to your best friend in four years is “You know there’s a ghost behind me?”
And then of course the alarm goes off, because the universe loves to fuck with you, and you glance down at the files in John’s hands which happen to be the same ones you are looking for (which makes a total of zero sense at the time but complete sense later). John clambers to his feet, hooks a hand around your wrist and pulls. You both take off running.
It is amazing how easy you click back together again.
In about 5 minuets you’re out of the building and collapsed on a bench inside a nearby park, laughing like you’re 10 years old again.
“Dave motherfucking Strider,” John gasps, then throws his arms around you in an awkward sideways hug and squeezes, “Where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead, man!”
No one living has touched you, more then a hand on the shoulder or a handshake, since the night your brother died. John no longer smells like vanilla and spice.
You don’t answer his question. Instead, through your own breathless laughter, you say “Breaking into buildings and stealing shit, Egbert? What will daddy say?”
He stops laughing really fast after that. “Um.” A pause. “My dad’s dead.”
You sober up real quick, after that. “Wait, what? Shit man, your dad was…He was like the healthiest guy I’ve ever seen, how did he-“
John clears his throat. “He, uh. Was murdered.”
And then you feel the last puzzle piece snap into place.
“…John,” you say. “This might sound crazy, and please don’t think I’m crazy, but I need you to answer a question. Did you see the thing that killed your dad?”
He purses his lips and stares at his lap, then slowly nods.
“And was it…Did it sort of look like…Like this big, dark-“
“Demon.” John finishes for him, completely confidant. “It was a demon.”
Alright then. That makes things easier.
Then you talk, and it turns out that John’s dad was killed two days after your brother, and you both agree there’s no way that’s a coincidence. You learn that after that incident his paranormal awareness skyrocketed- that’s why he can see Aradia- and that he’s been searching too, for answers mostly, and he hasn’t had any of the training you’ve had but he’d been doing pretty damn well on his own. He says how worried everyone was, when you disappeared that night, how everyone thought you were dead or kidnapped or worse. John says he would have nightmares about you trapped in some sicko’s basement and you give him another hug, because wow you’re an inconsiderate bastard aren’t you? When you ask, he says he doesn’t know how the girls are because he hasn’t talked to him since his dad died.
You realize something suddenly and ask him where he’s been living the past four years. He laughs awkwardly and says he’s been in the foster system for awhile, and that come to think of it he should probably get back before they realize he’s gone.
Something constricts in your heart, and you pull a red sharpie marker from your pocket. You scrawl a phone number and your chumhandle on his arm. (You’ve heard horror stories about foster homes and god damn it you hope John didn’t live one.)
(You later find out that no, he hadn’t, that if anything he had just been really lonely and labeled as a complete head case. Which is still not great, but not as bad as you dreaded.)
It takes you both another six mouths to stumble on Jade, who’s Grandpa is still very much alive but off gallivanting somewhere in India or something. You also find out that the ‘prestigious’ science camp she had been all excited to go to had been evil and (you could not make this up if you tried) that they had somehow spliced her DNA with a dog’s, making her pretty much a werewolf. You’re pretty sure there must be some kind of magic involved in that somehow, because you don’t live in a comic book and things like that don’t just happen.
But she’s still Jade, you’re pretty sure Jade would still be Jade after the apocalypse, and she gives you both tackle hugs and tells you how much she missed you. It’s pretty much inevitable you move into her huge, mostly empty mansion. It stops you from living off favors, gets John out of the system, and you’re almost all together again.
You find Rose a few months after that, and she’s so far gone. She is brainwashed and half-mad, oozing darkness from her pores and speaking gibberish. Nothing but a mindless slave to both the Dark Gods and her so-called ‘employer’. She doesn’t recognize any of you at first. In fact, she’s been sent to kill you, and she honestly almost does. It takes some serious Power of Friendship to stop her.
(But your To Kill list has grown, from just ‘the demon that ruined your life’ to ‘the demon that ruined your life and a man named Scratch’.)
“Dave!”
But then suddenly you’re all together again, the Legendary Four, and you feel like everything is right and good in the world. And then because John is John, and John gets really good ideas from really bad movies and TV shows, he suggests that maybe you should all start being supernatural detectives or something. And that’s how the Skaia Paranormal Investigative Services, or SPIS, started. Because hey, as long as you’re looking for the assholes who fucked up your lives, you might as well help other people avoid having their lives fucked up, right? You had gotten the name from an adventure series you had all read as kids.
“Dave Strider!”
The thing took off more than any of you thought it would, and soon there were people from everywhere asking for your help with all sorts of supernatural crap, and wow did you have some times. All sorts of wild adventures. Maybe you should remember some of them.
“Please, Dave!”
You totally should. Right now.
“Dave!”
Because if you’re in your memories, you don’t
“Strider!”
have
“Please!”
to be
“DAVE!”
here.
*
You are here. Back in the present. Out of your head.
You wish you were back in. You honestly, truly wish you were anywhere but here.
Rose gracefully dodges another piece of flying shrapnel, sending a glare your way as she does. “Are you with us now, Strider?” Under the sarcasm is genuine concern.
No.
“Yeah.” You shift your grip on your sword, try to raise it, but find it too heavy. You want to run away. Aradia brushes against you, trying to feed more energy into your connection. You refuse it.
Wow, you actually have no idea what to do in this situation, and no idea how to fake it. Fantastic.
You’re distracted as a concentrated beam of Spirit energy comes rocketing towards you, and it probably would have been your messy demise had Rose not suddenly appeared in front of you to deflect it. She turns and gives you a look.
“That’s not what I call ‘with us’, David.” She says quietly, and god damn it why does she always get in your head so easily?
You open your mouth to speak, but are interrupted by a small animal-like cry that turns into something more human. Jade pants, the only dog-like thing left on her the ears poking up from the side of her head.
“I can’t get close to him.” She says between gulps of air. “There’s too much power around him, it’s screwing with me.”
John hangs back, sledgehammer held in both hands, unsure what to do. Not much he can do, really. Even though he has pretty awesome Spirit awareness for someone who’s only human- and he really is nothing but human, you’ve tested him for everything from having some witch blood in him to being a Halfling or even a changeling and it’s always been negative- there’s not much he can do against this kind of enemy.
None of you are really prepared for this, because this wasn’t even supposed to be a big job. You were thinking it would be a quick, easy exorcism. Maybe the thing could be a little stronger than what you were all used to, and other than that it would be business as usual.
You didn’t expect the whole thing to be the work of another necromancer, a real and ‘proper’ one too, who don’t make contracts with Spirits but truly Bind them against their will, who have tilted from simply Gray to pure, inky Black. He is so much more powerful, he has years of experience, and he has the biggest advantage on you any person could possibly have.
You are Dave Strider, you are staring at the enslaved ghost of your big brother, and what you should be feeling is righteous anger but you just sort of feel like a scared little kid.
He is semi-transparent, as all ghosts are, but other than that he looks just like he did the night he died. His eyes are blank, looking at you without even the tiniest amount of recollection, holding his sword up and in the offensive position and pointing straight at you. He moves like a puppet wherever the man holding the strings tells him to.
(Nothing hurts more then the fact he doesn’t recognize you.)
Rose blocks another beam of energy with a flick of her wand as John pulls Jade back to where the rest of you are standing.
“What now?” He asks quietly, and the question is directed at you. Of course it’s directed at you, ghosts are your thing. If this guy had tentacles, it would be Rose’s thing, it would be Jade’s if it was anything to do with machines, and if someone needed to be sweet-talked with boyish charm, send in Egbert. But ghosts? Ghosts have always been Dave Strider’s forte.
“I-“ You start, but are interrupted by another energy beam that looks like something out of a fucking Sci-Fi movie that Rose can’t block, and you all put your dodging skills to good use. John and Jade dive one way behind some crates, you and Rose the other behind some kind of support beam. Jade gets ten points for best landing. Rose on the other hand gets negative 12 for the worst, and the edges of her hair get singed a little.
The other Necromancer laughs coldly from where he stands in the middle of the room. “Hiding like a rat, David?” He calls. “I expected better, considering your teacher!”
You grit your teeth and reach for Aradia. She reaches back. Rose twirls her wands idly in her fingers.
“Come on out, Strider!” A shot takes off the top crate of the pile John and Jade are hiding behind. Jade starts to shift again. “Let’s see how quickly I can kill you! I want a matching set!”
…Yeah, that anger you should have been feeling before? You can feel that starting to bubble up for real.
You are about to launch yourself out there, but Aradia stops you.
“That’s what he wants you to do, stupid!” She hisses.
…Huh. Have you mentioned lately that your partner is awesome?
Rose glances at you. “Any ideas?”
Ideas. Ideas. Come on, you’re great at ideas. You think. After a second, you’re wondering why you didn’t do that before, because yeah the thing you just thought is not only obvious but should work. You decided to forgive yourself just this once, considering the whole ‘seeing your not-at-all-beloved-guardian as a brainwashed spirit’ thing.
“I might be able to break the connection.” You breathe to her. Another crate is shot from Jade and John’s shelter. You realize the guy is smart enough not to shoot at support beams. “If you guys knock the asshole out or something.”
Rose nods quickly, then signals to John. A few seconds of frantic hand motions and exaggerated mouthing follow. Eventually they work out what the other was trying to say- you almost wish you had a camera, this shit is hilarious- and John passes the information to Jade, now fully shifted into a dog.
Okay then. You can do this. You can totally make this happen.
Rose, who has evidently taken over this part of the mission, makes a hand gesture, and you all go.
You step out of your hiding place, draw from Aradia and cross swords with your brother.
It’s nothing like your old spars, and you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. Better, because you never were able to beat your Bro in a fight, and (as horribly clichéd as it sounds) he may have taught you almost everything you know, but he didn’t teach you everything he knew. But at the same time it was worse, because some part of you wanted that back. Some part of you would have given anything for one last spar with your brother, even with him like this.
However, under the control of this asshole, he is barely a challenge. The fight quickly falls into an almost predictable pattern.
Parry, thrust, pivot, strike, parry, parry, pivot.
All that time, you avoid looking at his face.
Thrust, strike, parry, pivot, strike, strike, parry, thrust.
You have always been able to find an escape in motion, and now you are barely connected to your body. You are moving on instinct, and if you are going by instinct you don’t need to think. In this situation, thinking is probably not a good idea.
Strike, parry, parry, parry, strike, strike, thrust, strike, pivot-
Oh. He’s stopped moving. He’s just standing there, looking straight ahead, like a marionette cut from its strings.
You look past him. Your three best friends are surrounding the unconscious body of the douchebag who put you through this in the first place, all looking somewhere between smug and satisfied.
You look up at the spirit, swallow. Look at your shoes. Look back up.
Damn it. God fucking damn it, now comes the hard part. You blink hard behind your shades. Aradia runs a soothing hand on the back of your conscience.
“Dave.” It’s Jade, and her voice is gentle as feathers. “You don’t-“
“I’ll do it.” John jumps in. “I’ll do it if you…You know. Don’t feel up to it.”
“…Nah.” You say after a second’s consideration. “I got this.”
Some things you need to prove to yourself you can do on your own.
You clear your dry throat, gag on a dry tongue, and let the first familiar lines slide out of your mouth.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”
His form stiffens, and he looks more alert.
“Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare.”
He looks at you with blank eyes, slightly less clouded, maybe (you dare to hope) a little bit of recognition. You stumble over the next words.
“V-Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis, Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili Nomini”
He’s starting to fade, like a sandcastle in a strong breeze, and you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. You’re not losing him again, you’re setting him free, you’re freeing him from the worst kind of imprisonment.
It still feels like you are.
You can barely breathe but you assure yourself that it’s almost done; just a few more lines then you’re done forever.
“Quem inferi tremunt ut ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos,”
He looks at you, stares with a blank face, and you wish there was something you could say to him, or he could say to you, because there was so much he never taught you and-
“Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos. Domine.”
It’s done.
Before he fades completely, you swear he smiles at you.
You think that’s probably just in your head.
Your knees suddenly decide to stop working, and you fall on them willingly. You feel swollen all over. Your head hangs. Though the exorcism is over, all that’s needed to be said is said, you add a blessing of your own.
“Requiem, frater meus. Ad pacem. Reliqua. Frater mi dilecte, requies.”
Your voice is strange, breathy, nothing like yourself. You choke out an “Amen.” Then again, louder, “Amen.”
It is done, it is over, you finished it. That is a good thing. It’s over.
He’s gone.
For good.
Again.
And you are closer to breaking in that moment than you’ve ever been in your life.
There is a sudden warmth against your side, and you look to see Jade, still a dog, pressing against you. Then she shifts to human and throws her arms around you. Rose takes your hand and whispers ‘good job’ in your ear. John stands back with his hands shoved in his pockets and smiles at you. ‘I’m here if you need to talk, but it’s okay if you don’t.’ Aradia, good old Aradia, your partner since the first time you Called, sends you all the strength she can spare through your connection.
Your name is Dave Strider. You are a Necromancer (actually, you’re a Shaman, but that sounds really lame). Life, you decide, is good.
*
A letter found in the possession of Mister Dirk Strider, dated a nearly a decade before his death.
Dirk,
How have you been? Holding up, I hope? Perhaps a silly question, given who I’m asking it to, but I feel the need to do so anyway. What can I say, I’m quite guilty of mothering you all! Hoo hoo!
I’ve been fine, though a little stressed over some things I’ll address in a moment. James has grown up well, you’ll be glad to know. Though you two are as different as night and day, I’d like to think you’d get along. I’m afraid I might have sheltered him too much: the boy is much too serious for his own good, sometimes! (Though it seems I’ve instilled at least a love of pranking in him.) He doesn’t really remember any of you, though he has sometimes asked me if he had an older brother. I’ve always told him no, he must be remembering something else.
But down to business, dear. As much as I’d love for this to be a social letter, it’s not. It would seem like our old foe is up to her old tricks again. She’s trying to track us down, as well as trying to find new people to fill each role. From what I’ve heard, and I heard this from GA and have no reason to doubt it, she has so far been unsuccessful in both. There is a chance of her finding TA, but he’s been able to avoid her so far. She’s not going to give up though. Maybe ever.
The point is, please be careful Dirk. I know you’re one to take unnecessary risks, but now is not the time for that. I’m hoping my name change will throw her off my scent a little, but you insisted on keeping Strider (not the most common last name), and you don’t always keep the lowest profile (I’ve seen your websites, dear). Just watch your back.
Pass the message to Ro-Lal, if you can. I’ve got GT.
Stay safe and all my love,
Jane