Scriptae Caligorum: Ambient Anarchists 
by Amy K. Cyrway 
blkblade@mailexcite.com 
amy@gcolor.com 

***LEGALITIES...or some shit like that...Gargoyles are not mine. Rather, they belong to the mighty titans Disney 
and Buena Vista. I am a simple woman who wishes that they continued the series...but then I couldn't write fanfic, 
'cuz that would totally null out many of my characters, including the Familiae Caligorum...and sad to say, I would 
miss them sorely. Anyway, The characters that aren't covered by Disney are mine and/or Jenny and Andrew 
DeSalme's. Mary "Stormy" Pletsch's Wagner makes an appearance, too, after some interesting ties we made with 
him and a couple of my own characters...see in the Future Fic section for more details. Anywhose, on with the show! 
Eep, and let's not forget the MATURE CONTENT label...we have an Outklaw in the midst.... 

DEDICATION: To the members of the Female Fanfiction Writers Who Torture Brooklyn For Sheer Enjoyment, 
Ithica and Krystiana, who both had rather different reactions to some of the ficbits I posted in Station 8. Here's to 
both of ye, byes! *Slaps Whitbourne with a trout.* Also, thank mucho to Don A. Martinez, the Coyote Bando, who 
had helped brainstorm name for a new weapon introduced here, which will be carried out into...WHEN CLANS 
COLLIDE!!! *grins evilly with excitement* Last, but not least, thank yous go out to me gal Stormy, who provided a 
true friend for Caligo, a father and brother for Mauser, and a terrible instigator for Gecko.... 

CREDIT TO THE EDITORS: This issue's editors are JEB, Traveler, and, the English Lit major herself, Stormy, 
who caught A LOT of inconsistencies that I missed...I hope I fixed all of them. Thanks to all of you! 

ANOTHER THANKS: Thank you Jonathan of New Zealand, who had a copy of the corrected version of AA before 
GFW had a minor crash in the fanfiction archieve.  You saved myself and Mary a lot of precious time that she 
needed for mid-terms and I needed to.well..clean my apartment.  Thanks!

TIMELINE: After "With No Mouth, It Is Difficult To Scream." 

SOOTHSAYER: Previously, on Gargoyles... 

ARCHIMAGE: "I can destroy you with a Word." (Show the Archimage and Goliath battling, "Avalon, Part 3") 

ZANTHE: "_Distinter--_" 
LUC: "_SILENCE!_" (Show the confrontation between Zanthe, Caligo, and Luc in "In Darkness Cometh: Revenge 
of the Black Sword") 

SOOTHSAYER: "One of the eggs in the rookery--in their haste, the Vikings left the rookery intact. Caligo's mate 
whelped again, just after he left the clan." (Show Nox screaming in frustration, "Scriptae Caligorum: Sowing the 
Seeds of Darkness") 

NATE: "What do you mean, the blood of the three races?" 
LUNA: "Luach is gargoyle, human, and fae. The three races." (Show Nate conversing with the Weird Sisters in his 
apartment, "In Darkness Cometh: Revenge of the Black Sword") 

*** 
Prologue 
Avalon 

The half-fae woman stood on the cliffs of Avalon, her tears streaming down her pale cheeks, her emerald green eyes 
staring off into the mists surrounding the island. Her long chocolate brown hair twisted with silver and a few wisps 
of gold, was plaited down her back, swaying softly in the breeze. Her white and green court dress was muddied and 
torn around the hem, and her feet were bare and cut from the sharp rocks on the path up to her point. 

She gazed out to the mist, like a wife waiting for her husband who was lost at sea. 

In a way, she was. 

A civil war had broken out in Avalon; a war that split the Sidhe court in two, and pitted husband against wife. 

Something about a prophecy... 

Oberon had heard of a prophecy from the Weird Sisters, one that was forged from a curse casted by Titania's 
mother, Mab, when Oberon overthrew her for control of the fae. 

She knew part of the prophecy; but that was enough to frighten her. 

A child of three races will stop the maddened fae lord. 

And, deep within her soul, she had a terrible feeling about who the prophecy was talking about. 

One of her own children. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes still locked into the mists. 

"You're needed, my love," she whispered hoarsely. "You're needed once more..." 

A large, caring hand rested on her frail shoulder. She looked up to see her nephew, who bowed somewhat, though 
unnecessary. 

"We must hurry, Aunt," he remarked. "Oberon will do worse than destroy us if he finds out what we are doing." 

She nodded, standing, then pivoting on the ball of her foot. 

"I'm afraid, Alexander," she whispered. 

"So am I," he nodded, raising his hands in spell. 


*** 
Eyrie Pyramid 
Garage Level 
September 14, 2078 

Green Day's "Basketcase" echoed through the nearly empty service bay. All that remained there after the Xanatos 
Enterprises' workers left for the evening was a few motorcycles and a black 2074 Chevy Cavalier. 

There were two warm bodies gracing the empty garage tonight. Both gargoyles, smaller than normal, hovered 
around an eighty-year-old Harley Davidson Sportster hoisted by a pulley system rigged up from the ceiling. 
The tan beaked male, tapping his foot to the time of the music, made one last comparison with the diagram in the 
Chilton's motorcycle guide nearby and heaved a sigh. 

"Okay, C," he called out to his companion, a dusky red female slightly shorter than his six-foot height, who was 
checking final preparations with gas, the tires, and oil. "Let's try this out...and, if Dad's feeling nice tonight, maybe 
he'll let us ride his bike." 

C-4 nodded somewhat, smiling slightly at his comment. Gently, she eased the bike back down onto the concrete 
floor and straddled it. 

"Ready when you are, Luc," she nodded. 

Luc wiped his hands on a rag and nodded, crossing his fingers. 

She turned the key, choked it, and kick-started it. It coughed once, twice, and on the third attempt, roared to life, 
drowning out Green Day with the thunderous rumble of the 1200cc engine. 

The two gargoyles let out a collective whoop. 

"It runs! I can't believe it!" Luc shouted. 

C-4 cut the engine, letting it whimper and die. 

"It sounds great," she shrugged. "Save for the muffler...it's been in storage far too long...probably's been sitting there 
since the Wars. It's going to be difficult locating one, too." She shook her head. "We can still run it, though; it's just 
going to be a little loud." 

Luc only nodded, staring into the black gloss paint of the gas tank. 

She cocked her head to one side, staring at him quizzically. 

"What's wrong?" she whispered, hopping off the bike and kicking down the stand. 

"Just thinking." He shook his head. "Kat had said this was one of our father's hobbies...he loved motorcycles. I 
wanted to get this fixed up for the longest time, and now that it is...." He shrugged. "I still feel a little empty, like 
something isn't fulfilled." 

"No muffler?" 

"You're funny. No, I mean, like, I don't know." He shook his head again. "I'm just babbling." 

"Let's go do something," C-4 ordered. "We can't do much about the muffler tonight; when Nate gets off duty, we'll 
talk to him about ordering one for us from that place he gets parts for his car. The should carry parts for a 1999 
Harley if they have stuff for a 1967 Goat, right?" 

"I don't know," he picked up his camouflage jacket and flung it over his shoulder. "So, what do you have in mind?" 

"We could go to Central Park and skip stones." 

"We could do that in the atrium," he retorted. 

She rolled her eyes, mumbled "spoiled brat," and took a breath. 

"How about hanging out at the arcade?" 

"Closes at midnight." 

"Shit." She scratched her eyeridge. "Anything open all night?" 

"Dunkin' Donuts, Denny's, and the adult movie store." 

"Let's go to Denny's. Hang out there." 

"Just how I wanted to spend my evening," he grumbled. 

"You're not offering any suggestions." 

"There's not much to do for night life save...." He raised an eye ridge. "...clubbing." 

"'Clubbing?'" 

"Don't you have any clubs or pubs in that backwater state of yours?" he smirked. 

"The Spotted Dog, the Dugout, and the Chez. That's about it. And we call it 'bar-hopping,'" she interjected. "But 
sure. I'm game." 

"I'll go get Ereinee and Tellemacus. See if they want to go." 

Her face suddenly fell as he turned his back to enter the elevator to the castle. 

I don't want to go with Ereinee and Tellemacus, she thought sourly. I just want to go with you. 

"I'm so sick and tired of this shit!" she growled out loud, contemplating whether or not to kick the bike onto its side, 
then decided against it. Though it would hurt Luc, it would also hurt Kat twice as much, and, if there was such thing 
as ghosts, Brooklyn himself might claim vengeance on her from beyond the grave. 

Instead, she picked up the tools around the motorcycle and placed them in their bins on the workbench. 

"I can't stand it," she huffed, throwing a screwdriver forcefully into its drawer. "Why can't he just say he doesn't like 
me and get it over with?" 

"Who?" 

She dropped the torque wrench with a curse and spun around on the ball of her foot to face the bare-footed woman 
who had spoken to her. 

"How the hell did you get in here?" she demanded to the slight human. Her unexpected visitor--or rather, visitors, 
the green-eyed was accompanied by a handsome red-headed man with a blue tattoo over his right eye, both in 
timeless attire. At their feet was a gold garg-beast. They only looked calmly at the slightly irate gargoyle. 

"Access code, of course," the man smirked. "The main code never changes." 

"Who the hell are you?" C-4 demanded. 

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man bowed. "I am Alexander Xanatos." 

"Alexander--" C-4 laughed. "You expect me to believe that? You should be eighty years old." 

"Time passes much slower on Avalon, child." The woman stepped forward, her green and white dress swishing 
around her ankles. C-4 noticed she walked somewhat oddly for a human: on the balls of feet, with her knees slightly 
bent. 

"Avalon?" the red gargoyle snorted, not letting either one of them speak another word. "You expect me to believe 
that?" 

"Actually, yes." The woman's voice grew an edge. "You expect me to believe an Outklaw can be polite? I guess 
not." 

This shut C-4 up for a second. 

But only a second. 

"How did you know I was--" 

"--an Outklaw? Very easily; you look a lot like your father, Clay," the woman smirked, examining the garage, her 
eyes falling upon the motorcycle. There was something in her eyes that brightened them: longing, remembrance, 
sorrow. 

"Are you the only one here?" Alexander demanded softly. 

"No; there's the rest of my clan, upstairs," she retorted. "All twenty of them--" 

"Six, seven, including Little Miss Outklaw here," the woman corrected, her eyes never leaving the bike. "Who fixed 
this up?" 

"Who are you?" C-4 demanded, fists on her hips. 

"Where are my manners?" the woman smirked sarcastically. "I'm Arin MacDuff." 

C-4's eyes instantly narrowed. 

"Okay, maybe you crackpots are from Avalon." She held out her hands. "But do you truly think I'll fall for that?" 

"Suit yourself." She finally pulled away from the bike and glanced over at her companions. "Come on, Alex, 
Boudicca, we've got work to do." 

Just then, the elevator pinged, and the doors opened. Two more gargoyles, along with Luc, stepped out. The smaller 
one, a web-winged female a tad taller than C-4 but inches shorter than the tan male, was talking excitedly, as usual, 
and the silent, large blue male, almost a foot taller than Luc, followed. He was the first to notice the visitors. 

"We have company," Tellemacus growled, slapping Luc's shoulder for his attention. Of course, the backhand was 
stronger than seemingly intended, sending the much smaller gargoyle reeling back. With a curse, Luc regained his 
footing and rubbed his arm, finally noticing the three newcomers. The gargbeast was unfamiliar to him, and he 
instantly recognised the man to be none other than Alexander Fox Xanatos, but the human woman... 

...he ventured forward, shakily, his eyes locked with hers, both pairs of emerald green eyes wide in bewilderment 
and unbelief. 

Finally, inches away from her, he uttered one word: 

"Mother?" 

She said nothing, only cocked her head to one side, examining his face. Touching his cheek, she smiled warmly, 
throwing her arms around his neck. 

Suddenly, she cried freely. 

"I can't believe it!" she sobbed, as he returned the embrace. "I can't believe I would see my children again!" 

C-4 only stared, her mouth agape. 

"Um, Luc," she whispered. "Explanation please?" 

"Aunt Arin?" Ereinee whispered, coming up behind Luc. "Why are you human?" 

Wiping her tears with realisation, Arin...or at least the human claiming to be Arin...released Luc and glanced at each 
of the young gargoyles. Her face grew sullen. 

"At the beginning of the Wars," she began, speading her hands--human hands--wide, "Oberon had sent a message to 
me. It was quite simple. I was forbidden to use my fae magic. If I did, I would have to attend the Gathering. During 
the Wars, I played good little step-daughter and refrained from using my powers." She glanced downward. 
"However, afterwards, I was angry. My mate dead, my home gone, my father missing, probably dead, I sought out 
to destroy the creatures that undid my life." Closing her eyes, she sighed. "Let's just say that I grabbed Oberon's 
attention big time." 

"But we were told you died," Luc whimpered sadly. 

"My fault, really," Alexander coughed. "I knew what happened to Aunt Arin, but I didn't have a kosher feeling about 
letting you guys know what happened to her, especially you and Kat." The man glanced away. "After what Oberon 
did to my own son..." Arin shot Alexander a warning and continued in his stead of the narration. 

"There is a problem on Avalon," she retorted. "A rather big problem. Apparently, Oberon heard of an ancient 
prophecy, one that only he and the Weird Sisters know about. He has gone quite mad since we arrived on the island. 
He has attacked the clan numerous times. Tom, the Guardian..." she shook her head. "...was the first 
causality...Protecting the eggs, like his vow deemed. The Court has been split between Oberon and Titania...." she 
lowered her eyes, glancing back down at the motorcycle. 

"What about the prophecy?" C-4 interrupted. "What could have been so terrible to have driven the High and Mighty 
King of the Faeries nuts?" 

"That is what brought us here." Arin moved silently to the motorcycle and lovingly stroked the seat. She hopped 
onto the patched leather and sighed. "The only part revealed to myself and Alexander is that a child of three races is 
involved." 

"A child of three races?" Tellemacus questioned, raising a prominent eye ridge. "Is that possible?" 

The smaller male rolled his eyes. 

"Man, you are really thick-skulled," he grumbled under his breath, just as another motorcycle, this one a sleek black 
late model Kawasaki, rolled into the garage. Its occupant, donning a full-face helmet, cut the engine and stared at the 
newcomers. 

"Luc, I think an explanation is in order," the female voice demanded as she removed her helmet, carefully sliding it 
up off her gracefully upswept horns. She shook out her long white hair, somewhat disarrayed, and nodded a curt 
greeting at Alexander. 

"I see you finally came back," she muttered coolly, then turning to the woman. 

A recognition flared inside her mind, one that was felt by Luc as well. 

"Mom...?" she whispered. "What happened to you?" 

Arin laughed, hugging her daughter. 

"It's a long story that you just missed, sweetheart," she whispered. "I'm still overwhelmed at how much the two of 
you have grown!" 

"Arin, our time is limited," Alexander warned. "We must return soon, or Oberon will realise we are missing." 

She glanced down, her hand absently running along the Harley's seat. 

"I know," she whispered. "But I protest in bringing them!" 

"You can protest all you want," he remarked sympathetically. "But Fate's Fate. If you can point out another child of 
the three races..." 

Kat's eye ridge shot up. 

"Why?" she whispered. 

"Something about a prophecy," Ereinee answered. 

"Then I'll go," the tall crimson female volunteered. 

"It's apparent whose daughter she is," Alexander commented. Arin shot him a pained look. 

"You're not going without me," Luc shot at his sister. 

"You're staying here." 

"And who's going to make me?" The tan male stared at his sister, his gaze unmoving, determined. 

(i'm not going to let you go alone,) he empathed sternly. (mother's here now, true, but you're still all i've got in this 
world.) 

She blinked back as if struck; she glanced at their mother for support. But Arin didn't show any signs of 
understanding the telepathic rapport. 

"Oberon has set rules for his war, my friends," Alexander then revealed. "Those who wish to join may willingly. 
They can also die. Don't commit yourselves, please. All we know is that one child of the three races needs to come 
to Avalon to fulfill the prophecy...regardless...." His voice trailed off. 

"I will go," Luc retorted evenly. Something gnawed at the back of his brain, like he knew subconsciously what was 
going on, but couldn't grasp it. 

"So will I," Kat added in the same tone. 

"I go with Luc," C-4 stated, jumping to his side. 

"I go with my cousins," Ereinee agreed at the same time. 

"And Tellemacus will follow along reluctantly, but willingly," Luc remarked under his breath rolling his eyes just as 
the behemoth gargoyle opened his mouth. Both C-4 and Ereinee giggled. 

"Wait." Kat raised a hand as she set her helmet onto the workbench. "What about Tom and Uncle Lex...? We should 
at least let them know that--" 

Arin seemed torn as she glanced over at Alexander. He only shook his head. 

"I would love to visit, but we really haven't the time," he remarked sadly. "Every second here brings Oberon closer 
to finding out we've left." 

Boudicca whined somewhat, tapping Alexander's leg with her paw. 

He only nodded somewhat. 

"Then we must hurry," Arin concluded, raising her hands over her head gracefully. Her companion did the same, 
only more methodically. 

"This might be a little disorientating, just to let you know," Alexander warned. "A little faster than a skiff, but to 
first-time space-warp tends to cause some headaches." 

"And me without my Dramamine," C-4 smirked as the two humans chanted, Alexander's strong voice seeming 
monotonous against Arin's Celtic-accented words, though oddly enough, they blended, creating a haunting effect. 

"'Curve muri intervalia, in Avalonis ex quae!'" 

The spell was a simply spoken one, true, but, as far as Luc was concerned, he could sense the great amounts of 
power used to fuel it. The great rush forced him to close his eyes as if he was suddenly hit by a great gust of wind. 
He felt someone's hand clutch onto his arm, and he opened his eyes once more, to watch a rift of some sorts distort 
in the area between Arin and Alexander. It pulled inward, like a black hole, and warped all around it. 

Including Arin and Alexander. 

Curiously, though more concerned about what was happening to his long-lost, thought to be dead mother, Luc 
ventured forward, only to find himself being pulled forward as well. 

Closing his eyes once more just as what seemed like a wall struck his mind, he felt his body being pulled apart 
molecule by molecule, then, as abruptly as it happened, rearranged and put back together. 

His knees suddenly jarred against the rocky edge of the cliff as he clutched his stomach in pain. 

Two strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, and a wave of concern washed over him. 

"I'm all right, Kat," he gasped, shaking his head. The pain finally subsided and he stood, shaking his head. "It's 
just...I guess it was...overwhelming...." 

"What was?" Kat demanded, dropping her right arm but leaving her left resting on her brother's shoulder. 

"Magic's everywhere," he simply whispered. "And it doesn't like me..." 

"I don't understand," Ereinee whispered, glancing around at the alien turf. "How can magic have feelings?" 

"Magic is a force," Arin retorted softly, almost ashamed. "And, though intangible, can show some sort of 
rudimentary reactions to certain beings, depending on what controls it ultimately." Her eyes focused onto the 
ground. "Oberon controls the magic of Avalon. And fae magic reacts strongly against most other forms, save for 
Wiccan magic, for some reason." 

"'Wiccan'?" Tellemacus raised an eye ridge. 

"A witch, or something to that extent." C-4 shrugged. "Maybe because the Celts and other pagans of that era 
worshipped the fae, especially Mab, otherwise known as Morrigan and other different pagan goddesses." 

Alexander raised his eyebrow over his tattoo. 

"Are you sure she's an Outklaw, Aunt?" he whispered. 

Boudicca whined somewhat, then barked happily at three figures running toward the eight. 

"Arin! Fox!" The larger gargoyle, a golden ochre coloured male, draped his wings, climbing the rough, steep path on 
all fours. His companion, another male, this one thin and of a rich brown, followed suit. "The princess asks for you! 
She says it's urgent!" 

"I don't doubt that, Gabriel," Alexander nodded. "And what is the situation on Oberon's army?" 

"Still on the other side of the island," the other male retorted. "And Titania is nowhere to be found." 

"Wonderful. Fortinbras, take up watch in the rear," Arin order the brown gargoyle as she and Alexander led the 
others down the rocky path. 

Tellemacus coughed, then glanced over at Luc, who seemed to be still in some sort of discomfort. 

"How is she your mother?" he asked bluntly. "You are odd, but not so much of the half-human hybrids I've seen." 

"And how many have you seen?" Luc demanded just as curtly. "For your information, she was once a gargoyle." 

"Cursed," Tellemacus rumbled simply. 

"Yeah." 

The behemoth gargoyle said nothing, only nodded as they approached a cavern underneath a high waterfall. 
Boudicca ventured in first, followed by the two Avalon gargoyles, then the human/fae hybrids, and finally the 
outlander gargoyles. 

Inside, the glow of torches illuminated the smooth rock around them, and, as they walked deeper into the cave, they 
could make out fuzzy shadows in the distance. 

There was a sudden series of yips as a small blue garg-pup with large paws scampered clumsily towards the group, 
tackling the larger garg-beast. Boudicca gently nudged the pup, obviously her offspring, back towards the main 
room, where other gargoyles swarmed around, the drone of talk almost indistinguishable from the distant roar of the 
waterfall. 

"You've returned, sister!" a small grey female noticed, limping towards the group and hugging Arin. "I felt a 
tremour...and I thought Oberon had caught you..." 

"Takes more than Step-Daddy to get me, Naomi," Arin laughed. "But what about this 'tremour'?" 

"It was magic, I could sense it...." She bit her lip, running her hand through her thick mane of jet black hair. 
"Potent...but now that I think about it, it wasn't Oberon's...." 

Kat shot a look at her brother, who shrugged quizzically. 

(kat,) he then beckoned, (does she look...familiar...to you?) 

The crimson woman didn't have a chance to speak, or even think, when Naomi turned her head to regard the two. 

"Familiae," she whispered cryptically. "More of the Familiae...Sister, I didn't think you'd bring your own children 
here!" Suddenly, the frail gargoyle sank to her knees. "But it must be..." 

"I don't get it," C-4 stated bluntly. 

"Unfortunately, I do," Arin knelt down and gazed into Naomi's eyes. 

"Tell me what you see," she ordered. 

"I can't..." Naomi shook her head. "Too jumbled...I can't make it all out...! Brother tries to help, but it's no use!" 

Arin's face contorted, wincing as if she was struck. 

"My god," Kat hissed in realisation, but her brother sensed more to her voice. "She's Daddy's sister!" 

(i knew she looked familiar...) Luc nodded, his face ever stoic. (she looks a bit like grandfather.) 

This time Kat winced, then directed her attention on the small grey gargoyle being comforted by the human. Luc 
was right, though; Naomi resembled Caligo a great deal, from her eyes to her hair to her wing structure. Of course, 
the gender gap differed, but also Naomi seemed extremely frail and sickly. 

Luc ventured toward the two women, touching Naomi's shoulder. 

"What happened?" he whispered softly. 

Arin shook her head, but the frail gargoyle looked up into Luc's eyes... 

...through Luc's eyes... 

He dared not blink as her stormy but sickly grey eyes seemed to search for something deep within his soul. 

And then she shook her head, lowering her face. 

"I must rest," she whispered. "My mind aches." 

And, with the help of Fortinbras, Naomi stood, turning toward the heart of the cave. 

Luc remained kneeling, watching her with new curiosity. 

"What wrong with her, Mom?" Kat whispered. Arin sighed, standing. 

"She's weak." The human shook her head. "If it wasn't for the magic of Avalon, I don't think she would have even 
survived childhood." 

"It pains me to see her like this." Another voice, this one of an elder woman, joined their conversation. "Her 
condition seemed to worsen since the Magus died...." 

"How are the others faring, Princess?" Arin asked as the grey-haired human ventured into the torchlight. 

"Not well, cousin." She shook her head sadly. "What good is physical force against beings of pure magic? There are 
at least twenty fae for each one of us." 

"You might learn something here, Tellemacus," C-4 nudged her largest companion. Luc shot her a look that shut her 
up. 

"What about Grandmother?" Alexander questioned. 

"No one has heard from Titania yet, Fox," she sighed, sinking onto the rock floor. "Ack, it's just become too much 
for us...maybe it's best for us to leave Avalon...start anew in the World..." 

"Princess, this is your home!" Arin protested. "You can't simply up and leave!" 

"We've done it before, Arin," Princess Katherine replied, "when Wyvern was sacked and when Constantine killed 
his father, kind uncle Kenneth." 

"I'm not going to stand watching you being bullied from place to place!" Arin exclaimed. "There's no guarantee 
you'll not be done the same in the World either!" 

"Princess!" There was a collective shout from the mouth of the cave as five gargoyles ran toward the main cavern. 
The green female with the large spiked plate jutting over her head came forward. 

"Oberon sends a message," she heaved, catching her breath. 

"Take your time, Ophelia," the Princess whispered. "What happened?" 

"He knows of Fox and Arin's trip to the Outside," she gasped. "He demands to be 'introduced' to the newcomers." 

"Where's Uriel and Michael?" Gabriel demanded, noticing two of his brothers who had gone with the group were 
not there now. 

"Oberon has taken them prisoner," the red male nearby remarked. "He will not release them until he has been 
'properly introduced.'" There was some malice in the male's voice. 

"Tybalt," Princess warned. To Arin, she said nothing, but her eyes pleaded for advice. 

Thought it was Arin's daughter who spoke. 

"Then we'll go introduce ourselves," she remarked softly. Silently, her brother rose, standing at her side. 

"You can't." Arin shook her head, fighting tears. "He'll kill you." 

"He'll kill those two he has if we don't, Mom," Kat retorted. "We can't stay here and do nothing." 

"Oberon's a stickler for rules," Alexander remarked. "He might just want to introduce himself to the opposing 
team..." 

"Your optimism is somewhat refreshing, Alexander," Arin grumbled. "However, being the overprotective mother 
that I am..." 

"Mom..." Luc placed a gentle hand on Arin's arm. "We must do this, for Uriel's and Michael's sakes. Anyway, if 
anything happens..." he gave a cock-eyed smile, though it was edged with worry, "...I'm known to panic..." 

Arin only shook her head, though a small smile touched her lips. 

"Please return to me," she asked her children, giving the both of them a hug. 

"We will," Kat nodded. "You have my word." 


*** 
Underhill 

Deep within the complex cavern system of Avalon, deeper than any of the Clan Avalon had dared ventured, three 
sisters stared into the chasm of Limbo. 

"It is time," the blond whispered. 

The other two nodded, one with hair as white as snow, the other's black as night, as the three raised their arms above 
the gaping pit. 

"We summon thee, Champion Eternal, for you are needed!" 

The flow of energy flew from the rock beneath their bare feet, through their bodies and finally arcing from their 
fingertips and into the chasm. There was a great explosion of light, and a gargoyle roar that shook the soul, and then 
darkness. 

Suddenly, two orbs of blazing white blinked into existence over the Chasm of Limbo, angered. 

"Why can't I rest?!" The protest was strong and mournful. 

"Because you are needed, Champion Eternal," Luna whispered simply. 

"You should have thought of that forty years ago," the ghost snapped sourly. 

"Why should we?" Selene demanded back. "Mab's prophecy calls for a child of three races, not the Champion 
Eternal." 

"Then why did you summon me?" 

"This child...is one of your own..." Phoebe revealed. 

There was another roar. 

"MUST MY FAMILY BE FOREVER WOVEN WITH CURSES?!" the ghost shouted. "All I want is peace...for 
myself and my children...and YOU HAVE TO FUCK IT UP!" 

"Not us!" Luna put a hand to her bosom in protest. "We merely relay what is spoken to us by the Gods of Balance, 
the Grey Lords. And you must aid your child, or else Oberon will destroy them, and, with them, the fate of 
everything in the multiverse is doomed." 

The spectre allowed this to sink in. Finally, defeated, the orbs bobbed, a nod. 

"Take me to my child," the ghost of Brooklyn hissed. 


*** 

A chill ran down Luc's spine as he witnessed a mass of darkened figures riding towards them, cresting over a hill. 

"I don't like this," Kat remarked. 

"You don't like this?" her brother scoffed. "We're outnumbered and outmatched, and you don't like that?" 

"Wait..." Kat touched his arm. "They're doing something." 

The army stopped about a half-mile from the two gargoyles, though the leader continued forward. Luc groaned, 
touching his head. 

"It's Oberon," he whispered. 

"Clearly," Kat agreed, adjusting her riding jacket, Luc catching a glimpse of a taze gun holstered underneath. 

"That's not going to do a whole lot of good, sis." 

"It'll slow him down if he gets too rowdy," she retorted softly as the fae leader vanished, only to reappear directly in 
front of the two gargoyles. 

"Who is the child of three races?" Lord Oberon demanded, his cold ice blue eyes falling upon Kat, then Luc. 

"I am," Luc hissed, to Kat's horror, before she could say anything. 

The fae lord bore deep into Luc's emerald green eyes. 

"And you are the creature that threatens our existence?" Oberon raised an elegant white eyebrow. "It won't be much 
of a challenge to destroy it." 

"Him, shit-head," Kat growled, her eyes glowing red. Oberon ignored her as another fae, this one tall with a flowing 
white beard and midnight blue armour, strided to his side. 

"My lord and brother," he bowed, "Surely this boy cannot be the one in the prophecy. He is only a child by mortal 
standards. He cannot possibly harm you. Look! See how he is frightened of your presence!" 

"Frightened, no," Luc whispered with a slight tremble. "Scared shitless, that's more like it." 

Kat growled once more, drawing the taze gun and leveling it, aiming it at Oberon's head. 

"Leave him alone," she ordered simply, her voice cool and calculating. 

"We did not summon you, gargoyle." Oberon waved his hand toward the bold woman, sending her flying back by an 
unknown force, disappearing through a tear in the mountain that healed itself after she passed though. 

Luc's eyes widened as he watched his sister vanish, He turned back to the fae lord. 

"Where is she?!" he demanded, his even voice actually surprising him with the tone. 

"She was not harmed," Oberon retorted coldly. "She will find her way back soon enough. As for you...." 

"Yeah, what about me?" the tan male demanded, his eyes beginning to glow an eerie white. "What do you have 
against me, anyway?" 

"A freak of nature, a monstrosity," Oberon scoffed. "A child of human, gargoyle, and fae was never meant to exist." 

Suddenly, a soprano voice screeched, the note hovering dangerously close to shattering glass and eardrums. 

"You have no right to call my son a monstrosity!" Arin MacDuff snarled, storming up behind Luc. "It was you who 
cursed me to the life of a gargoyle...you are to thank for his existence!" 

"It was your temper what cursed you--" 

"--for trying to force me into joining the Gathering!" the woman shrieked. "I was human, not fae! If you would have 
ignored me, I could have lived out my life as human." Her face fell. 

"We still have greater power over you, daughter of Macbeth. We could turn you back to the unnatural form you 
were--" 

"That would be a blessing!" she snarled. "I was gargoyle longer than I was human!" Turning to her son, she glared at 
him. "Leave. Now." 

"But--" 

"Luach, do what you're told and go!" his mother growled. He nodded, bowing his head, and bolted away from the 
verbal melee. 

Oberon turned to the midnight-clad fae next to him. "Odin, follow him!" 

Odin sighed, obeying his brother and lord's command, then called out for his steed. "Sliepnir!" 

The great black horse lifted its head, its red eyes glowing, as it cantered over to its master, who expertly mounted in 
mid-stride, forcing the beast into a strong gallop. 

Then the great Lord of the Fae reverted his attention to the half-human woman. 

"This is not over yet, Arin," he remarked. "When we meet again, the outcome will not be pleasant." 

"Then I suggest you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and stay there until you come to your senses," she 
retorted. "My son couldn't possibly harm you!" 

"Indeed, he can," Oberon snapped back, and he pivoted on his heel and vanished. The army on the hill too turned 
and faded into the mist. 

Arin waited a few more minutes, then, turning on the ball of her foot, returned to the cavern. 


*** 

Kat groaned as she stood, stretching her wings out and straightening her jacket. 

"Dammit," she whispered, beginning to walk through the long and narrow natural hallway carved by a long extinct 
underground river. "What the hell just happened?" 

With a toss of her hair over her shoulder, she mantled her wings, following her instincts though the maze. 

"How in the hell am I going to get out of here?" she demanded to herself. She could sense she was deep in the 
mountain; she just didn't know how deep. 

With a frustrated howl, she sank to her knees. 

"Why couldn't you have just shut up, Luc?" she whispered. "At least I have a better chance of surviving against 
him..." 

"How can you be so sure?" a male voice demanded softly from behind. Her eyes widened in horrific recognition as 
she turned to face the speaker. 

Who was nowhere to be seen. 

"Where are you?" she hissed in a small child-like voice. 

"I'm here, Kathryn, like I promised...." She felt a cool breeze on her cheek. 

"Daddy?" she whimpered. 

"The one and only. Kathryn, is Oberon after Luach?" 

"Yes." She dropped her eyes downward, fighting tears. "But Luc isn't a fighter, Daddy...he'll get slaughtered." 

"Not if I can help it," the voice growled as two orbs of white lit brightly, hovering nearly seven feet off the ground. 

"Daddy, if you don't mind me asking...how? You're...." She inched closer, somewhat afraid. "...You're dead...." 

The spectre's eyes moved slowly, a shake of the head. 

"I don't know..." he revealed. 

"Looks like we're in the same boat," she whispered, defeated. 

"Don't give up yet, Little Sun," his voice softened. She closed her eyes, the tears running freely down her cheeks. 
His pet name for her when she was much younger brought back memories of days past, during the Wars, when at 
least she had had her father. "We'll help him soon enough...." 

"But Daddy," she protested. "We've got to get out of here first." She sighed as she stood. "Um...could you make 
yourself visible or something? I feel...weird...talking to what seems like thin air...." 

"I don't know..." he repeated, though something in his tone had a sort of happiness to it as she felt the breeze again 
on her shoulder. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll be right here, by your side, just like I used to be." 

"I wish you could still be," she sobbed suddenly. "Daddy, I miss you so terribly!" 

"I miss all of you, Little Sun. Your mother, Luc, Macbeth, my brothers...I miss life..." There was a slight sniff. 

She only nodded, crying a bit more, as she continue her journey, the presence never leaving her side, as promised. 


*** 

Odin slowed Sliepnir to an easy trot, to follow the boy. Thoughts swarmed his head as logic fought against his 
loyalty to his brother. 

He recalled the day Asgard fell, killing many of his fellow Norse gods. It was the day Loki and the Fianna, led by 
their damned half-demon, half-angel leader, struck their heart. Oberon healed Odin, his second-oldest brother after 
Zeus, and gave him a home on Avalon as his second-in-command. 

Indeed, he owed a lot to Oberon, and for that, he owed his loyalty. 

But Odin's wisdom saw flaws. 

This strange gargoyle...the boy appeared very much gargoyle, though he ran low to the ground, not on all fours like 
normal gargoyles...seemed bright enough not to challenge Oberon. 

Halting the great black horse, Odin dismounted and called out. 

"Boy!" 

Frightened, the gargoyle did stop, turning back to face the Norse god. His wide emerald eyes radiated fear and awe. 

"I have not come to harm you, boy." Odin reassured, holding his hands out to show him he was unarmed. "I just 
wish to talk." 

"Why is Oberon doing this?" Luach whispered hoarsely, gasping for breath. Odin shook his head. 

"My lord and brother believes you hold the power to destroy him." 

"How can I destroy someone so powerful as him?" he demanded rhetorically. 

"That is what I thought," the god nodded. "But I believe he is wrong in this judgment. He sees you as a threat." 

Luc shook his head. 

"Why are you helping me?" 

"Again, I hold my alliances with what is truth." 

There was suddenly a crack of thunder that jumped the small gargoyle. Odin glanced upward casually. 

"A storm is brewing, boy," he remarked, striding closer to Luc. "And you are a child of three races. Perhaps the 
prophecy holds truth...." 

Luc shivered somewhat, wrapping his camouflage jacket closer. 

"I see you are gargoyle," Odin continued, "in body. However, I can sense the magic in your blood, strong magic, and 
your heart beats as a human's. Unfortunately, Oberon sees that as well. Though he hasn't any clue about your sister's 
nature, I find it surprising that he lacks the foresight to see that." Odin held out his hand to the gargoyle. "I would 
like to help you, Luach. Not against my brother, but to help him see that you mean him no harm." 

There was another thunderclap, this one seeming to shake the earth beneath them. Though a cloud of dark mist, 
Oberon appeared, his face contorted with fury. 

"You DARE to stand against us, brother?!" Oberon roared. "After all we've done for you!" 

"Listen to me, my lord, my brother." Odin bowed somewhat. "You've asked me my advice in the past, and I've given 
it to you. This one time you've not asked for it is the time that you need it the most. The boy will not harm you. He 
couldn't. Truth, his fae heritage is strong within him, but he is in no position to even dream to attack you. Please let 
them leave, and stop this senseless war with your children and the mortals of this fair isle." 

Oberon glared at Odin, then to Luc, who fell back, gritting his teeth, and back to his brother. 

"You betrayed us, Odin." He spoke softly, raising his hand toward the Norse god. "You've betrayed us, and there is 
only one reward for traitors in our court." 

"No!" Luc hissed as he felt a potent pull at Avalon's magical core, directed by the Lord of the Fae himself and forced 
onto Odin. Odin staggered to his knees, then fell to his side. 

Oberon dropped his arm, his cold gaze falling onto the gargoyle. 

"Enjoy these last few hours of your life, monstrosity," the standing fae snarled, and the mist returned, carrying 
Oberon away. 

Luc gulped for breath, crawling over to the fallen god. 

"Odin?" he whispered, touching the fae's arm. Odin's eyes, the same color as Oberon's, though Odin's seemed to 
radiate warmth as well as pain, rolled to bare into Luc's. 

"It seems that maybe my brother has truly lost his senses," Odin smirked. "I'm sorry, Luach; I did what I could, and I 
still failed." 

"I'm sorry for causing this, sir." Luc closed his eyes. "I sometimes wish I wasn't who...or what...I am." 

"Never wish that, boy," Odin ordered, though his voice was soft. "You don't realise how different you are from other 
gargoyles, other fae, other humans. You could be a lesson to Oberon himself. He may see a monstrosity, but I see a 
being that could bring a human's compassion to the fae, a gargoyle's strength to the humans, and a fae's wisdom to 
the gargoyles." 

"Are you going to be all right?" Luc asked instead, dismissing the fae's words for the moment. 

Odin shook his head. 

"Oberon tore my soul, boy," he replied. "To tear the soul of an Sidhe is like puncturing him with iron. I'm dying." 

"I can heal you," the boy stammered. "I know I can." 

"Don't waste your abilities on me, Luach; I am too far wounded to be saved..." Odin reached toward his own face. "I 
need to ask you a favour, though; it is a burden, and the choice is great." 

"Anything, sir," Luc hissed. "I owe you at least that." 

Odin dug his fingers into his right eye socket. The gargoyle hybrid winced, though instead of blood, an amulet of 
gold and sapphire was all that was in the Norse god's hand. 

"Take the Eye," he whispered. "Take the Eye and do what you see fit. Destroy it, even. But I must warn you; the Eye 
brings wisdom, but with a price." 

Luc accepted the artifact, feeling power surge up his arms as though it were probing him. The feeling subsided as 
suddenly as it started. 

"Fare thee well, Luach," Odin whispered. "I shall join my Asgard in Valhalla once more...." 

And, with that, the light in his remaining eye flickered and died like a flame. 

Luc took a deep breath, bowing his head in respect of the dead. 

"I'm sorry, Odin," he whispered. "I'm sorry for causing you this pain." 

He stood, watching Sliepnir trot to his master's body, kneel with his front legs, and magically teleport Odin onto his 
saddle, with a final glance at the boy, the steed vaulted into the sky and vanished into a bank of storm clouds. 

With a heavy sigh, Luc stared out into the sky, then down to Odin's Eye. 

"Why would he want to destroy this?" he whispered sadly. Pushing away a nettlesome lock of hair from his face, he 
closed his eyes and mentally pulled at the energy of Avalon. The power was strong, and almost intoxicating, as it 
coursed though his being. Opening his eyes glowing silver, he uttered one word: 

"_Reveal._" 

The power rushed suddenly though his arms, into the Eye, then back with a tainted result. Luc watched in confused 
fascination as the Eye rose from his hands, turning so that the sapphire faced outward. 

As he pondered what was happening, the Eye suddenly slammed into his chest. 

The pain racked his body with excruciating pain as the transformation kicked in, his scream barely audible over the 
thunderous storm overhead. Lightning scorched the earth around him as his entire being changed, the muscles and 
flesh contorting and growing, becoming larger, stronger. 

At last, the agony subsided, and Luc fell to his hands and knees, gasping for his breath. Daring to open his eyes once 
more, he sucked in air in surprise at the powerful arms clad in gold and midnight blue gauntlets. 

Those aren't my arms, he thought to himself as he stood. What's happened? 

"What's happened to me?" he whispered in a voice too baritone to be his own. 

One word from an alien presence within his head answered his question. 

Evolution. 

"Why?" he demanded softly. 

Avenge Odin. Destroy Oberon. 

"But I don't want to destroy anything...anyone...." 

You are weak. 

And suddenly, he felt his spirit being yanked upward and thrown into a corner in the back of his head, forced to stay 
there, cowering. 

Luc realised what was happening as the Eye took over his being. 

Panicking, his will gathered as much energy around his evolved body before the Eye could subdue him completely. 

He felt the artifact...turning...in his mind, and, like a Peterbilt rig, gunned toward his psyche. 

The hybrid's lunged for control once more, once more seeing out of his own eyes, once more speaking from his own 
mouth. 

"_KATHRYN!!!_" he screamed, desperately seeking the presence of his sister, just as the Eye washed its power 
over him, binding him with astral tendrils, forcing him into unconsciousness. 

And then he awoke, as the Eye's gentle whispering and coaxing began to make sense. 

He grinned evilly, narrowing his eyes. 

"_Return_," he uttered, disappearing in a flash of lightning and thunder. 


*** 

Kat fell forward at the force of her brother's plea, catching herself with her hands on the rough stone. 

"My god," she gasped. "It's Luc...something's wrong!" 

The spectre seemed to have silenced as its white hot orbs narrowed. 

Hastily, Kat reached out mentally, sending a wave of concern and fear to where she had sensed the mind call. 

She screamed as her mind hit a wall of red flaring pain. 

"Something is terribly wrong," she gasped, holding her head. 

"I know," the spectre whispered, his eyes scanning around the cavern. 

The brick red female staggered to her feet and bolted toward the stone archway to her left. 

If Brooklyn was alive, he would have probably shuddered at the taint of the air surrounding the archway as he 
followed his daughter into the darkness. 

And apparently, Kathryn had not sensed it as she found the narrow passageway to widen dramatically into a large 
cavern the size of Central Park. A large saltwater lake shown in the eerie glow of the fae-tainted iridescence 
emanating from the crystals. On the other side of the lake was a dais of obsidian amongst a crop of crystal 
formations. 

"What is this place?" she whispered. 

"This is the Cavern of Destiny, child," a strong and venerable voice called out from all around them. 

On guard, Brooklyn's ghost ordered, "Show yourself!" 

"Of course, Champion." 

He had expected some fae to pop out of the water, or shimmer into existence. However, an elderly woman, 
appearing Native American, her ears only slightly pointed, hobbled out from the passage they had just entered 
though into the cavern. 

"Most call me Grandmother, child," she greeted Kat with a warm smile. "My real name has been forgotten by the 
Children of Oberon aeons past, so it does not matter at this point." She turned to the spectre. "I see the Sisters were 
only somewhat successful in summoning you, Champion." 

"Well..." the ghost made a sound not unlike a snort. "...they really didn't have much to work with, considering I've 
been dead for four decades." 

"You still have that charming cynical wit, Brooklyn." She did not miss a beat as she walked over to the edge of the 
lake. "Oberon has killed his brother Odin when he attempted to help Luach...leaving the boy in care of his Eye. 
Unfortunately, through no will of his own, at least not consciously, he has now been possessed by the artifact." 

Brooklyn growled as Kat asked, "What does that mean?" 

"It means," he grumbled, "Luach is in dire straights." 


*** 

"I don't fuckin' like this," C-4 growled as she watched the other, more traditionally clad gargoyles plan, especially 
Fortinbras, Gabriel, and Tybalt. To her right was Tellemacus, who smirked somewhat. 

"There isn't much you do like, is there?" he quipped. 

"I don't like the fact we're hopelessly outnumbered," she retorted, searching her pockets. 

"I don't like the fact Luc nor Kat have returned," Arin sighed. "I know I shouldn't be, but I'm worried." 

"They're your children, Aunt Arin, you have every right to be," Ereinee remarked, touching the human's arm. "And 
my cousins...I'm worried as well. Tellemacus, we should go look for them." 

There was a loud crack of thunder that startled everyone around the waterfall entrance as it echoed on the rock walls. 

"Correction: we need to find Kathryn," a low, baritone voice retorted, as powerful as the dissipating thunderclap. 
Though seemingly alien, it had an oddly familiar accent to it. 

There was much muted conversation as all eyes were on the large figure in the shadows, his form slightly darker 
against the rock wall, his eyes blazing silver-white. 

Arin muttered something Gaelic that caused the princess to wince as she stormed over to the form, throwing her 
arms up in the air in frustration. 

"What the hell were you thinking, Luach?!" she demanded. "How the hell did you get the Eye of Odin?!" 

The Avalon gargoyles gasped in realisation. Tellemacus, Ereinee, and C-4 only stared at each other in confusion. 

Princess Katherine crept up behind her distant cousin, afraid of what the lad could do now possessed by the 
corrupting artifact. 

To her surprise, as well as everyone else, he bowed his head, slouching a bit. 

"I...I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered. "But Oberon killed Odin for trying to help me...he gave me the Eye to do what 
I see fit...." 

C-4 got a good look at her friend and gasped, placing a hand over her breast. 

"Be still my racing heart," she sighed dreamily. 

"Be still my churning stomach," Tellemacus rumbled. 

Ereinee gave a short laugh, too occupied in trying to figure out what was going on. 

"So you chose to wear it?" Arin rolled her eyes, defeated. 

"No!" he protested, glaring down at his mother. "It...you wouldn't understand!" 

Arin took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes. For a nanosecond, Luc could have sworn they had taken a reddish cast. 

"Don't," she snarled, waving her finger at her possessed son, "you EVER speak to me in that tone of voice, young 
man!" 

She took a step forward; Luc, his own eyes wide in fear as he stepped back, tripping over his tail and landing hard 
on his back. Wincing, he continued to shirk away from his scolding mother until he was backed against the wall. 

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whimpered meekly. 

Suddenly, Katherine burst out laughing. 

"What's so funny, cousin?" Arin demanded angrily. 

"That's what we could have used against the Archimage," she wiped tears from her eyes. "His mother to scold his 
arse to kingdom come!" 

The emerald-eyed woman let out a short, high pitched chuckle, overlooking her anger for the while, as she knelt 
next to Luc. 

"I'm sorry for snapping, Luc," she whispered, her face still radiating some fear. "But from what I know of the Eye, it 
corrupts people." 

"Maybe I'm different, Mother," he suggested. "I didn't chose to bear it...." 

"Maybe..." she glanced down at her hands. Touching his arm, she began crying. "Luach, I don't want to lose 
you...not like I lost your father...please...." 

"Please don't worry about it, Mother...." Luc stood, glancing at everyone in the cavern. 

"We need to strike first," he then stated. "Tellemacus, come with me...we'll scout the enemy camp and report back 
what we find. From there, we can devise a plan." 

The behemoth Grecian--who now Luc could look straight in the eye--raised an eye ridge, but nodded as the two 
marched out of the cavern. 

C-4, sinking to the floor, watched the two leave. The garg-pup padded over to her and laid his head on her lap. She 
scratched his ear absently. 

"I don't fuckin' like this," she repeated, standing. The pup yipped, following her to the cavern's entrance. 

"Where are you going?" Fortinbras demanded, catching her arm. 

"I'm gonna keep an eye on those two," she flipped a thumb outward. "If you know them like me and Ereinee do, 
you'd understand. Ereinee, I need to talk to you." 


*** 

"How do we get back to the others, Grandmother?" Kathryn questioned. 

The elderly woman gazed out toward the other shore. 

"Oberon has gone mad, this is for certain," she responded. "He is tolerant of human/fae hybrids, but gargoyles are 
not totally natural creatures. The original ones were the offspring of angels and demons. We, the Fae, created mortal 
versions of these Elder Ones, ones who were able to reproduce." 

"I've heard the story before," Brooklyn remarked, a little sore at her remark. 

"Of course you have, Little Shadow," Grandmother smiled cock-eyed. "Even trapped in your own Wastelands, you 
do not realise the Familiae's potential. You and Naomi and Cashe were never to have existed theoretically." 

"Who's Cashe?" Kat demanded, though the ghost growled. 

"Three Children of Caligo. Law, Balance, and Chaos." She followed her statement with a quick cantrip of Innuit 
syllables. 

"You're stalling, Grandmother," Brooklyn snarled. "My son is in serious peril, and you seem to have other plans. 
You're just as bad as Titania!" 

"You act as though it is a bad thing. I'm informing you on the situation. You wish to know of Mab's Curse. I'm one 
of the oldest fae." 

The elderly fae held a hand over the water. Slowly, a formation of rocks rose from the formerly placid surface. She 
stepped daintily onto the first pillar, then the next, then looked over her shoulder to see if Kat was following. 

"Child, do not be afraid; I have no intention of bringing ill of your clan. Indeed, I wish to succeed where dear Odin 
had so wrongly failed. 

"Long ago," she took hold of the female's hand and guided her to the next stepping stone. "When the world was 
recovering from the final battle of the Lords of Law and the Dukes of Chaos which the Earth was scarred. It was a 
time when Caligo and Lucia--the gargoyle you know now as Zanthe--was barely adolescents, to give you a timeline. 
Long before the humans, we came from Elswher, to escape a civil war that tore our plane of existence apart. We 
arrived to the Earth realm, healing the world. We became friends of the Elder Ones, and learned from them as they 
learned from us. We learned to co-exist in a new, blooming realm. To thank our friends, we created a younger race 
from the stone of their flesh, a race able to produce one thing the Elder Ones' cannot." 

"Children," Brooklyn's ghost answered. 

"Exactly," Grandmother nodded. "The Elder Ones took to the children wonderfully, becoming teachers to them. 
However, many grew insane from jealousy. Some even stole children, teaching them forbidding magic. This created 
even more madness. 

"This is when Mab was Queen of the Sidhe. Oberon, who had his eyes on her beautiful daughter, Titania, felt that 
the old queen was weak against the Elder Ones, allowing them to get away with their crimes. He gathered an army 
with his words of silver and rose against Mab, overthrowing her in the end without much blood shed. Mab 
disappeared, and the fae broke apart, some to Athens, where they later became known as gods, as did those to 
Scandinavia, North America, Asia, and other places around the globe. 

"Before Mab left, however, she left a curse on Oberon: a child of three races shall single-handedly usurp him, so that 
Mab could return to her people. Though Oberon only knew of the gargoyles and fae. 

"When the humans came, intelligent and creative, the Young Ones became protectors, aiding these new creatures. 
The fae were treated as gods by the humans. The Elder Ones, however, became sucluded from the younger 
gargoyles. Oberon realised this, and vowed that he would kill any hybrid that would pose a threat. Fortunately, no 
human up until the late 20th century would have ever knowingly mated with a gargoyle. But then it did not matter, 
for Oberon lacked the foresight to see that by cursing one Arin MacDuff into a gargoyle, the granddaughter of his 
enemy Mab, he had indeed sealed his fate." 

"Luc," Kat exclaimed. 

Grandmother smiled mysteriously as she hopped onto the other shore. 

"Back to the fae who were still loyal to Mab; these were of the Greek and Roman parthenon. Their own children, the 
New Olympians, cared not for humans and fae, and left after their powers faded. Hephaesteus, one of the last fae 
with the power to resist the touch of iron, created weapons against Oberon for a time long in the future. Only one 
still remains intact. However, its powers have faded over the millennia." 

"What I wouldn't do for my sword," Brooklyn mumbled. "A steel blade would do Oberon in as well as any mystical 
weapon." 

"Your sword was a gift from Izamagi and Izamani, the Twin Gods of Nippon, to your father, Champion. It was 
forged from steel, silver, and a daedric metal that had mystical though undefined properties. Kurai-no-Daikatana." 
The fae cocked her head. "Tell me, Champion...why did you accept your father's sword?" 

The ghost said nothing. 

"The sword is powerful, but it holds no part in the defeat of Oberon." She touched the obsidian dais. It glowed with 
a dark purple hue, then, as though made of liquid, two arms emerged from within it. As black as the obsidian, they 
were forged of metal, probably iron. The hands, open with the palms facing upward, were four fingered, each long 
and taloned. 

Kat, fascinated, knelt down next to the dais and stared at the infinite black gauntlets. A semi-sentient murmuring 
echoed within her brain. 

But her father was silent, both verbally and mentally. 

"Daddy?" she whispered, beckoning, pleading. Her voice was as though she was still a child. "Daddy, are you still 
with me?" 

She sensed only a dull presence. 

"What happened?" she then demanded to the fae elder. "Where is he?" 

Grandmother only shook her head. 

"I do not know," she answered softly. 

(i'm still here,) Brooklyn's voice echoed in her mind, (i'm getting ... strained ... tired ....) 

She closed her eyes, nodding slowly. 

(daddy ... rest, then ... ) she whispered mentally. Aloud, she turned her attention back to Grandmother, "What of 
these gauntlets?" 

"They were mentioned in the prophecy," Grandmother turned back to the lake. "You see, child, it is not your brother 
Luach who is Oberon's usurper. It is you." 

Kat's eyes widened. 

"And Oberon thinks it's Luc?" she whispered meekly. 

"Right now it's best Oberon thinks that," Grandmother closed her infinite blue eyes. 

"How can you say that?" Kat snarled. "Right now Luc's not exactly himself, there's a mad fae on his tail, and if I'm 
supposed to be the one who should be in his place? No, Grandmother. I will face Oberon now." She reached out to 
take the gauntlets. 

"Wait, child," Grandmother raised her hand. "There's more to this than simply facing him." She shook her head. "If 
Luc faces him, Nox wins. If you face him and fail, Nox wins." 

"Who's Nox?" Kat demanded. 

"Oberon's insanity," Grandmother sighed. "If Nox had never convinced him of the power of the children of three 
races, then he would have disregarded Mab's prophecy. Nox wishes the Familiae Caligorum extinguished, and since 
the majority of the Familiae are children of three races--" 

"But it's only Luc and I," she protested. 

"What of your own daughter, Sierra? And, in the future, Luach's children? And their children?" 

"But who is Nox? Why would she want us dead?" 


*** 

Though the cloaked figure knew of the consequences if Nox found out of his wandering, he could probably be 
destroyed. 

Of course, Nox knew better than to strike one of the Grey Lords' soothsayers. 

He perched on a ledge overlooking the three sisters, watching them curiously as they talked softly amongst 
themselves. 

Chuckling, he leaned forward and called out to them. 

"Why do you think you can stop Nox's plans?" he demanded, actually startling the sisters. "Your conjuring the 
Champion's Ghost, but what good will that do?" 

"We have every intention to stop her scheme, Soothsayer," Selene snarled. 

"Oh?" There was a smirk in his voice. "Does that include the destruction of your lord?" 

"That demon caused his sanity to snap so bad, it can never be repaired," Luna protested. 

"The only way to stop him is to destroy him," Phoebe shook her head sadly. 

"And so you summoned the Champion's Ghost?" the Soothsayer questioned, truly curious. "But why not leave him 
at rest?" 

"Brooklyn wasn't 'at rest'," Phoebe continued. 

"He was locked in his own Wastelands, a personal Limbo," Selene added. 

"Mab asked us--" Luna started, only to be waved silent by the alien creature. 

"Mab? Mab is still alive, then?" the Soothsayer demanded. "How?" 

"She is fae, an immortal," Selene explained impatiently. 

"And you think I don't know that?" the creature snapped, leaping down from the ledge. The cloak billowed outward, 
exposing dark armour underneath, though the face still remained hooded. A great pair of blue wings folded outward 
as he glided down to face the three fae sisters. "I meant if she still existed in this plane." 

"Yes," Selene answered simply and curtly. 

"Interesting," he nodded. "So, why did Mab ask you to awaken the Champion Eternal?" 

"She holds a proposition for him," Luna remarked. "Though it is none of your business to know." 

"Oh, really?" The creature snorted, shrugging his massive shoulders. "We serve the same master, girls. And if the 
Grey Lords wish us to share information, then who are we to argue?" 

"Only in trade for what Nox wants," the three bargained unanimously. 

"Very well," The Soothsayer folded his arms over his chest. "We all know Nox hates her son." 

"That was very much apparent when Caligo sided with the Fae during the First Battle," Selene retorted. 

"I know. She vows vengeance on him still for the disgrace...after all, he was Mother's boy up until that point." The 
Soothsayer shrugged again. "But anyway, Nox has carried that vengeance onto his children, and their children...in 
other words, Oberon's not the only one out for Luc and Kat's blood." 

"And what of you, Soothsayer?" Phoebe asked. "You too are of the Familiae." 

"Yeah, well...she can't touch me, because of the Grey Lords. Anywhose, I told you what you wanted to know, now 
spill about why Mab wants Brook?" 

"He is, after all, the Champion Eternal," Luna remarked. "And, though he is physically detained--" 

"That's funny," the Soothsayer snorted. "The Weird Sisters make a joke..." 

"--His mind is still very powerful," Selene finished with a little snarl. 

"He still has influence on the material world." Phoebe added. 

"I see...but the prophecy spoke only of Kathryn...nothing about the Champion." 

"We told you what we know." Selene folded her arms across her chest and glared up at the Soothsayer. 

"Fine...thank you, ladies, for being most cooperative." He bowed deeply, then skipped off, vanishing into the 
shadows. 

"He will tell Nox," Luna whispered. 

"He cannot lest the Grey Lords demand it," Phoebe remarked. 

"Or she threatens him." Selene turned to face her sisters. "His children still live in the Real World, remember...and 
they too are Familiae." 

"Then there will be a Final Battle," Luna shook her head sadly. "I had hoped it would be avoided." 

"Time is a circle, dear sister," Phoebe explained, a smile stretching across her face. "What begins shall end...and 
what the Lords wish to play out, then let them...." 

"Speaking of which," Selene spoke sharply, "it is nearly time." 

The three nodded, and vanished. 


*** 

"I don't fuckin' like this," C-4 grumbled for the upteenth time that night. "High and Mighty Shithead is to the north-
east. We're too far west to be scouting." 

"But why?" Ereinee whispered. The pup whined, bumping up against Ereinee's leg. 

"You really don't see it, do you?" C-4 shook her head. "You don't see the rivalry?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I can't believe that...haven't you ever seen your any of your rookery brothers fight over a sister?" 

"Of course..." 

"You can't see that Luc and Tellemacus are doing the same exact thing? Over you?" 

"Me?" Ereinee laughed shortly. "That's absurd! Tellemacus is my best friend, and Luc's too young!" 

"And they both are in love with you," C-4 whimpered. "Remember when they got into the fight on the Fourth? 
They've been competing for you since I've known you...sure, that's only been a little over two months since I've 
lived with you guys, but it's blatantly obvious." C-4 screwed her eyes shut and turned away. "Of course, it must be 
nice to be oblivious to that...or do you enjoy it?" 

Ereinee sucked in a deep breath. 

"That was a little low below the belt," Ereinee hissed. 

"It's true!" the dull red gargoyle protested. "Think about it." And, with that, she stormed off toward the cliff. The 
blue-grey garg beast whined, then followed C-4. 

The web-winged female blinked, a little hurt, a little confused, and, strangely, a little awed. 

And suddenly, on cue, another thunderclap echoed overhead. 

Ahead of her, the two males faced off, staring at each other, the white glow of anger apparent against the darkening 
sky. 

She crept lower to the ground toward the males, peering through the grass. 


"You've become mad, Luach!" Tellemacus shouted over the howling wind. "The Eye has corrupted you!" 

"Only opened my own eyes!" The lightning white flash of Luc's eyes mirrored the storm above. 

"Clouded them, more likely!" The Grecian gargoyle retorted. "You've never acted like this before!" 

"I've never received the opportunity to fight back," Luc snarled, swiftly throwing a backhand punch across 
Tellemacus's face. Retaliating, Tellemacus brought both arms down, connecting at the junction of the shoulder and 
the neck. The possessed gargoyle faltered, crying out in pain. 

C-4 jumped to her feet and ran toward Ereinee, then bee-lined it to the combatants. With a mighty heave she 
launched herself, checking Luc off balance. Ereinee followed quickly, screaming something in Greek to Tellemacus. 

"Luc! This isn't you!" C-4 shrieked, only to be thrown off by a massive bolt of energy. She hit the ground hard and 
skidded about ten feet before coming to rest, not moving. The pup yipped, galloping over to her side, lapping her 
face. 

"She's right, Luc!" Ereinee yelled over the crashing of lightning overhead. "Aunt Arin was right; the Eye has 
corrupted you! It's brought out jealousy you'd never dream of possessing! You said you would use this 'gift' against 
Oberon!" 

The tan male leapt to his feet and stared down at the small webbed-winged female, his eyes flashing angrily. 
Ereinee didn't budge from her ground as Tellemacus staggered over to C-4 to see if she was all right. 

"I hate you!" Ereinee screeched, red edging her eyes, on the verge of glowing. 

This seemed to have the same effect on him if she would have physically slapped him. His eyes widened, flickering 
emerald green. 

A cold gust of wind blew over them, and Luach fell back once more, his face contorted in fear. 

No... 

...it was pure dread that caused the scream choking in his throat. 

Ereinee looked behind her at where he was standing, at the ready, though she saw nothing-- 

--wait-- 

--a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky into the east, brightening everything for a split second, everything save a 
black form in the shape of a lank and tall gargoyle. The lightning dissipated, though where the eyes would be on the 
darkened area, there were two blazing pits of white fire. 

"Luach," a strong, resonating voice called out, drowning the howl of the gale-force winds. It rang with anger, with 
remorse, with pain. 

The little voice that was Luach before the Eye took control awoke, fighting for his own will. 

"Father..." he managed to whisper hoarsely. "Help me...." 

"This is something you must defeat yourself, Luach," the ghost's eyes closed, and the head shook slowly, then 
reopened, glaring. "I'm only here to make sure you don't harm any of your friends in the process." 

"'Harm them...?'" he whispered in realisation. "I don't want to harm anyone...." He sank to his knees, staring down at 
the flattening ground. Glancing sideways, he moaned softly as he saw Tellemacus gently lifting C-4's unconscious 
head. "What have I done?" 

The darkened figure narrowed his eyes watched the scene. 

"What, indeed?" he asked rhetorically. 

Haggardly, Luc dragged himself toward the dull red female, fighting the other presence every inch of the way. 

Collapsing just out of reach of C-4, he squeezed his eyes shut and growled against the Eye's influence. 

"Leave me alone!" he ordered through clenched teeth. "Get out of my head!" 

Ereinee, getting over the initial shock, whimpered a bit, guilty for yelling at Luc, staggered toward him, tears 
streaming down her cheeks. Tellemacus took a hold of her arm and pulled her close. 

"It's his battle, sister," he whispered. "He has to fight it." 

Luc dug his claws into the ground, his muscles tensing up as he snarled in pain, his face contorted. 

"ENOUGH!" the tan male shouted, though it didn't resonate with the power of the Eye of Odin. With a roar, he 
arched his back, his wings stretching full span. Finally, Luc glanced up at the ghost of his father, his eyes emerald 
green encased in silver. 

Lightning struck nearby, fanning out toward him, engulfing him from the ground up. His right hand taut with talons 
curled inward, he took hold of the Eye at his breast. 

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled a single word, fueled by the awesome power of Avalon mingled with his own will: 

"_PURGE._" 

The lightning intensified, his pain filled cry echoed with the howling wind. Ereinee huddled closer to Tellemacus, 
though C-4 remained unconscious, the garg-pup hiding in the curve of her body with a whine. The air was alive with 
electricity as Luc pulled at the Eye away from his chest, the tendrils of energy fighting to remain, though to no avail. 
Ultimately, Luc's will won out over the Eye's influence, the semi-sentient artifact admitted defeat. 

With a final gasp, the massive form he once possessed shrank back to his normal size as he collapsed, reaching out 
for C-4's hand. He felt her thin, cool fingers with a weakened pulse. Groaning, he stared down at the Eye. Abruptly, 
he forced the fist with the artifact into the softened ground, a hoarse mumble of a word fueled by his own will. 

"_BANISH._" 

He felt the Eye of Odin vanish from his grasp, closing his eyes tiredly as he dragged himself to a sitting position, 
taking C-4's hand with both of his and burying his face into her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, C," he whispered, then briefly turned his head to face Ereinee and Tellemacus. "I'm sorry for what 
happened...it wasn't me, but I was responsible...." He hung his head, caressing C-4's cheek. "Kerridwen, can you 
hear me?" 

He didn't receive an answer. 

"All my fault," he hissed, biting his lower lip. 

Large drops of rain began to fall as he pushed his hair from his face. 

"Let's go back," Ereinee suggested, her voice wavering. 

"Good idea," Tellemacus nodded as Luc lifted C-4 up gently. The pup sniffed at Luc, confused at what had 
happened. 

The four young gargoyles--three, and one unconscious--trudged through the increasing rain, the blue garg-pup 
following Luc closely. 

Brooklyn's ghost also followed, though they could not see it, he smiled somewhat ironically. 

One thing bothered him, though. 

If not with the Eye of Odin, the spectre pondered, then how? 


*** 

Kathryn grew tired of this. 

"Grandmother," she snarled somewhat. "Right now, my brother's my first priority. If it's me who's supposed to face 
Oberon, then I will, but not after I lose my brother. Please, just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. To save Luc's life, 
I'll do anything." 

Grandmother cocked her head to one side, regarding Kat with wide eyes. 

"Are you sure what you are saying?" she asked, approaching the dais with the gauntlets. "To wield Hephaesteus's 
Gauntlets holds a price most dear. Your hands, child--are you willing to part with your hands to save your brother's 
life?" 

"My hands?" Kat rose her talons to her face, studying them as though the first time. "What are you talking about?" 

"Are you willing to give up your hands to save Luach?" 

"Yes," she stuttered. "Yes, I guess I would." 

"Not guess, child," Grandmother corrected. "Will you?" 

"Yes, I will," the gargoyle nodded. 

Grandmother only nodded, taking Kat's hands into hers. 

"The love and loyalty you show for your brother is tremendous." Grandmother led her to the dais and placed her 
hands one either side of the pair of gauntlets. 

"I still live without my hands," she whispered coolly. 

"But without the sensation of touch?" 

"Living without Luc is worse," Kathryn snarled. 

Grandmother only nodded, as she rounded the dais once more, facing Kat with the gauntlets in between them. In a 
low, melodious voice, the elderly fae began chanting a cantrip in an alien language. 

For some reason, the only word Kat understood was "dae". 

A fae word, meaning Shadow. 

There was a loud crack as the obsidian shattered, the gauntlets hovering three feet off the ground, the talons 
extending toward Kat. 

Her hazel eyes wide, she stared at the slowly moving gauntlets, gracefully dancing without any means of support. 

And, as suddenly as she could blink an eye, the black iron gauntlets sliced downward. 

She screamed as antagonising pain ripped through her arms and up to the rest of her body. 

Then horror engulfed her as she dared to gaze down at the bloody stumps where her hands once were. 

What have I agreed to? She demanded of herself, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

And then she thought of her brother. 

"Luach," she whispered, pain still racking her body as she slumped to her knees. Through a haze of agony and tears, 
she watched the gauntlets turn so the bases faced her. Green strands of fae-based energy danced around the weapons 
and her bloodied arms. She could feel the magic in some way deaden the pain, making it tolerable, as it bonded the 
severed wounds. The tendrils of light intensified, becoming a solid glow surrounding her. 

There was abruptly no feeling anywhere in her being. 

And, like a light switch, her nervous system turned back on with a rainbow of new sensations flooding her. Kathryn 
collapsed, her eyes wide on her new appendages, pitch black hands and lower arms with no reflection. They seemed 
they always belonged there, smoothly transitioning from flesh to metal. 

And, what was most odd, she could feel with the gauntlets. The sensations were odd, true; it was as though she was 
wearing thin cotton gloves instead of war gauntlets. 

Standing shakily, she gazed up to where Grandmother stood. 

The elderly fae was no longer there. 

"Daddy?" she whispered, her voice seeming much deeper, older. 

As before, her father's presence was nowhere to be felt. 

"Now what?" she whispered to herself. 

What else? Face Oberon, she answered mentally. With a cautious mind, she reached out for her brother. For some 
reason, he was no longer influenced, but she couldn't totally grab his attention. 

With a heavy sigh, she looked back at the lake where she had come from. 

The stepping stones were gone. 

"Wonderful," she growled. "How the hell am I going to get back?" 

"Not everything is as it seems, Kathryn," three identical voices retorted. Kat rolled her eyes and faced the three 
sisters. 

"What now?" she growled. 

"Your fate," Selene retorted. 

"Surprise," the gargoyle grumbled sardonically. 

"You do not understand your position even now," Phoebe observed. 

"I understand that I have to kill Oberon before he kills Luc." 

Luna shook her head, then shouted out, "Return to your daughter's side, Champion, for she is in more need than 
Luach!" 

A shimmer nearby Kat alerted company, as a blackened figure appeared. Though different than a couple of hours 
ago, it was still her father's spirit. 

"What now?" he growled. "Leave me in peace, I beg of you!" 

This appeared to shock the Sisters Weird. 

"You...beg of us, Champion?" Luna whispered. 

"Yes! I beg of you! I am tired! All I want is rest!" 

Kat closed her eyes, sensing her father's weariness. 

"Then if that is what you wish, Champion," Phoebe whispered. "We can grant you the rest you demand, for one last 
mission. Mab has granted us the authority to aid your quest for the peace you deserve." 

"It seems that the next is always the last..." the ghost sighed. "Very well, what is this 'last mission'?" 

"Grant your daughter your experience," Selene stated. "She is a born warrior, much like her father and both 
grandfathers...however, she hasn't found much need to do battle in her life...save tonight...." 

Kat opened her mouth to protest, then looked at the blackened area near her and closed her eyes, clenching her 
hands...no, the gauntlets...her severed hands of flesh and bone lay cold and lifeless near the cracked obsidian. 

A strange feeling brushed over them, making her shiver, when, with split-second realisation, her father was holding 
the one closest to him, her left. 

Or rather, trying to. 

It felt as though he passed through the lightweight iron and touching the phantom of her left hand. 

And strangely, it was very comforting. 

The Sisters Weird took this as a confirmation, and, surrounding the gargoyle and her ethereal father, began to chant. 


"'Father of Spirit and Daughter of Flesh 
Together tonight your souls must mesh 
Face the Madness of our misguided Lord 
Together, two of Darkness against him roared!'" 

Darkness... 

Kat knew it wasn't meant as a metaphor. 

It was specifically implying them. Darkness. 

Before she could dissect the incantation further, her mind suddenly flared as if flooded by a bright light. She 
screamed out, though something...someone...touched her soul, easing her into calmness. 

(little sun) His voice of her father echoed within her, though it no longer seemed a separate entity. 

And her mind became alive with memories that were not hers. 

She watched a statue of her human mother suddenly explode as wings and a tail sprouted forth... 

...her father's father handing him his sword, hilt first... 

...Uncle Lexington, holding him at gunpoint, tears filling his still-organic eye... 

(i love you, rookery brother) 

...a flare of blinding light, pain... 

...and realisation... 

...these were her father's memories. 

Though she was confused at first, she slowly began to understand as the new part of her conscious, powerful and 
shrewd and at the same time gentle and loving, explained to her silently what it all meant at the speed of thought. 
She slowly opened her eyes and saw the world around her as if for the first time. 

"Art thou ready, Champion?" Luna asked, more of a statement than a question. 

"I am," Kathryn nodded, her voice resonating with a strength that almost startled her. 

And suddenly, she felt her father understand. 

(it is you, little sun,) his voice murmured, (and not luach oberon is after?) 

"Should be, Daddy," she sighed. "But he still thinks Luc's the one." She looked down at herself, dully surprised to 
find that her normal attire was replaced by a more traditional loincloth and a metallic steel breast plate. "And I can't 
lose Luc...he's all I have of you...." 

(little sun,) his voice seemed saddened, touched. (little sun, I'm always with you...) 

"And still we must fight for not just Luc, but everyone on Avalon," Kat replied. To the Weird Sisters, she narrowed 
her eyes. 

"We need to get out of this maze," she ordered forcefully. 

"It is done," Luna nodded, as the three vaporised in a mist of green light. Kathryn followed suit, save with a 
darkened cloud of shadows. 

She felt the other presence shiver as this new-found ability deposited them on top of the waterfall overlooking the 
Army of Oberon. 

(and suddenly, i've understood,) Brooklyn hissed, somewhat sardonically, somewhat humorously. (i've become my 
father....) 

Kathryn raised an eyeridge as she knelt on the rock, the war gauntlets clicking ever so slightly against the granite. 

"There is something happening down below." She squinted at the milling at the base of the waterfall. 

(they are gathering their forces,) her father recognised. (they are preparing to defend their last sanctuary.) 

Her gaze wandered over to the west, where she noticed three--no, four...no, five, one was carrying another--figures 
move toward the Clan Avalon base. 

"It's Luc!" she cried softly. "He's all right--no, wait." Closing her eyes, she reached out to her brother, sending her 
wordless inquiry. 

The figure in the rear--the one carrying another gargoyle--stopped and looked up onto the rock. 

(kathryn, i hurt her,) he whimpered mentally, almost childishly. (i hurt her...) His thoughts then broke down to 
nearly intangible and totally distorted pictures that, if drawn on paper, could have resembled an angry and confused 
child with his first experience with crayons. 

Before she could reply with her wordless comfort, their father interrupted. 

(it was a mistake, an accident not your fault,) he comforted. (you had no power over it.) 

(you're wrong, father,) Though he seemed not surprised to receive telepathic counseling from his two-score-
deceased father, his thoughts became tangible once more, though they still held anger and pain. (it was me, and i did 
have power over it...it was my jealousy that led to her getting hurt.) And, once more, the hard-pressed heavy lines of 
angry child-like Crayola pictures returned, fading off but not severing as he entered the cave under the waterfall. 

"Oh, Luc," Kat muttered softly, her voice full of pity. "What has happened to you?" 

(quiet, little sun,) Brooklyn hushed. (the defense lines have been drawn, though look...) with a mental indication 
toward the north, he directed her vision to the army of Fae lined up with a defense of twenty men wide by five men 
deep. Clan Avalon, however, had roughly thirty-three gargoyles at the ready, with Arin and Fox both barking some 
orders. (now, be quiet, and listen.) 

"For wh--" 

(quiet, kathryn!) he scolded. (just listen....) 

Trying as she did, she could not pick up what the other presence was hearing. The images from Luc were becoming 
overpowering. Reluctantly, she chose to follow his thoughts rather than obey her father. 


*** 
Interlude 
Manhattan 
One Week Later 

Lexington only stared at the much larger gargoyle pacing the floor. 

"Tom, what can we do?" The cyborg finally broke the silence. "We've tried everywhere and everything. Nate's 
checking though the police station, and my old friend Raph over in sunken part of town's got his ear to the 
underground...I've run though all person locator programs. There's just no sign of them." 

"How can you say that?!" the lavender gargoyle snarled. "We just can't give up!" 

"I wasn't implying we should!" Lexington snapped. "We aren't going to give up...however..." His organic eye 
dilated, worried. "We are running out of resources...." 

Tom only shook his head, flopping into an overstuffed armchair in the nursery. The little lavender girl gurgled a bit, 
looking over at the male gargoyle with huge brown eyes. 

"Da?" she asked simply. "Da?" 

Without a word, Tom picked up his daughter and carried her to the kitchen to get her bottle. 

"I miss them, munchkin," he whispered. "I don't know where they could have gone to, but I hope it was important." 
Sierra just looked up at her father's face, curious, knowing that there was something wrong, but was much too young 
to know what was going on. 

"Do you miss Mommy?" he then asked. Sierra obviously did not understand the question, for she reached out for the 
bottle of warm milk almost greedily. 

"I do," he sighed, sitting in one of the chairs. "I've lost too many loved ones, munchkin...my mom and dad, my little 
brother...if I lost Kat and Luc..." he kissed the top of her head. "If I lost you...I would be lost myself...." 

The little girl glanced back up at Tom, seeing tears in his eyes. Tears meant he was sad, and she was sad because 
Daddy was sad... 

The little girl wailed suddenly, burying her head into his chest. He only hugged her, comforting her, whispering her 
name, though crying as well. 

Lexington remained in the nursery, staring at the ancient mahogany crib in the center of the room. 

He thought of days gone past, and, with a heavy heart, turned to go out into the courtyard. 

It was a rather chilly night for September; the moon was barely a waxing crescent and the stars blinked as their light 
hit the Earth's atmosphere. 

And there was something more. 

On guard, Lexington spun on the ball of his foot, his arm laser unsheathed. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked the shadowy anomaly emerging from the darkened archway. 

"My grandchildren are missing. Need I say more?" The shadow filled out, becoming defined into a tall, massively 
built gargoyle towering over the cyborg by more than a foot. 

"As is my daughter, Caligo," Lexington growled. "Do you have any knowledge of their whereabouts?" 

"As much as you do." The ancient gargoyle shook his head. "An old friend and I've been searching since we first 
heard a couple of nights ago, and turned up with nothing. Technology, magic, it all failed." Caligo leaned on the 
parapet wall and stared out into the city. "All I know is that they are not dead...though they might be if we don't act 
in time...Damn!" He bowed his head, and, for the first time Lexington had known of the mysterious gargoyle, he 
witnessed frustration. 

"Where were they last seen?" Caligo then demanded. 

"In the garage. Kat's bike was there; the Cavalier was too. They didn't leave by vehicle. No security cameras picked 
up any activity outside of the building." 

"Did Alexander ever install magical sensors in the building?" 

"Of course...but when he left, they faded." 

"But they are still in effect," Caligo stood, marching indoors. "I can still sense them." 

Lexington growled a bit, not liking the way Caligo took charge of the situation. What did he care? The last time he 
had seen Luc was almost a year ago, let alone Kat! 

Lex followed the other gargoyle to the elevator. 

"I will meet you in the garage, Lexington," Caligo commanded, then literally sank into the floor, leaving not a trace. 

"Uncle Lex?" Tom exited the kitchen, Sierra, her eyes red but calm, clutching his shirt as he carried her in the crook 
of his arm. Urites, the garg beast of Ereinee and Tellemacus's, followed skittishly behind him. "What's up?" 

"It's Caligo," Lexington retorted truthfully. "He's just as worried as us." 

"I'm surprised," Tom remarked emotionlessly. "After abandoning us in the Clone Wars..." 

"Now is not the time, Thomas," Lexington warned. "Caligo knows stuff we don't. He may be the only help we 
have." 


Lexington and Tom arrived in the garage, announced by the soft ping of the elevator chime. Sure enough, Caligo 
was already there, and had taken the liberty to allow another, this one seemingly human, into the building. His 
companion was a tall man, blond hair lightly streaked with grey and piercing blue eyes, donning black jeans, a black 
tee-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His hands were gloved. From a quick sensor sweep, the cyborg picked up an old 
Walther PPK holstered under the jacket. 

"Lexington, my friend, Wagner. Wagner, this is Lexington, the rookery brother of my son Brooklyn." 

"Guten abend," Wagner greeted solemnly with a Germanic accent. 

"Under other circumstances, maybe," Lexington grumbled. "Right now, I want to know where the kids are." 

Caligo said nothing else, only gave the garage a scrutinising sweep twice. Right before Lexington's eyes, his form 
darkened, but did not lose its shape. 

"There it is," Caligo grumbled. "The Shadows never lie...magic was used here recently...a mixture of fae and human 
magic...there is one magical frequency that is identical to the ones that were used in the castle sensors." 

"Meaning?" Wagner asked. 

"Meaning Alexander was involved," Lexington replied slowly. "Leading to the point that..." he trailed off. 

"Meaning that the children are on Avalon." Caligo reverted back to solid form, then suddenly his face blanched. 
"No...it cannot be..." 

"What is it?" Tom demanded. 

"It doesn't concern you!" Caligo suddenly bolted out of the garage. 

Wagner snorted, muttered "some things never change," and turned his attention to Lexington and Tom. 

"It was a pleasure meeting you," he smirked as he jingled the keys in his pocket. "Caligo, mein freund, we aren't 
going anywhere till I get there!" 


The Mercedes was in immaculate condition for one that had survived one-hundred fifty years of use and abuse. 

The Mercedes, a 1941 staff car from Nazi Germany, cruised through the streets of New York. Its driver, Richard S. 
Wagner, inserted a music disk into the revamped stereo. An ancient song, "One" by Metallica, started up, the 
machine guns and helicopters deafening. 

"What now?" Wagner shouted over the music. Caligo reached over to turn down the volume. 

"We head to Avalon," the ancient gargoyle retorted simply. 

Wagner dropped his head and muttered under his breath, "Avalon. Fuckin' wonderful." He turned back to Caligo and 
demanded, "And how would you suggest doing that? Drive?" Wagner smirked humourlessly. 

"The easy way," Caligo rumbled. "The Shadows lead everywhere in the realm." 

Wagner nearly choked. 

"And you expect me to join you, jawohl?" 

Caligo smiled somewhat, hearing beneath Wagner's cynic exterior a minute trace of respect. 

"What are friends for?" Caligo smirked. 

The German swore something under his breath as he parked his car in a garage near the south end Central Park. 


*** 
END INTERLUDE 
*** 

"It's good to see you back to normal, lad," the princess greeted warmly as she and Naomi prepared a makeshift 
infirmary, though she was hoping somewhat unrealistically that they wouldn't need it. 

Luach merely snorted and shook his head as he set C-4 down on one of the cots. 

"We've got to help her," he whispered hoarsely. "I did something terrible without even realising it...." He choked as 
the pup at his feet whined, rubbing up against his leg, trying to comfort the tan male. 

Katherine raced to C-4's left side, checking pulse and breathing. 

"Her pulse is weak, lad," Katherine remarked. "We should keep her in here at all times and just prey that no one 
dares attack us here." 

"Ereinee, please watch over C-4...Tellemacus, go out to help the others in case I fail," Luc then ordered, his voice 
stoic. As a last move, he shed his jacket and folded it, easing it under C-4's head. Bowing his head, his eyes closed, 
he touched foreheads with the unconscious woman. No more words were spoken until he stood once more, turning 
on the ball of his foot toward the mouth of the cavern leading outside. 

"Luc!" Ereinee grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. Staring up at him with those large, beautiful mediterranean 
blue eyes, she added, "Please, return back in one piece...I'm sorry for what I said--" 

"Now is not the time," he retorted, glancing back at C-4's still form, then exiting, storming past the line in the 
downpour. 

"Kat, if you're listening," he mumbled, "please watch over your foolish little brother...." 

And, despite of the pleading cries of his mother, Luach marched out in the muddy field, ready to face his fate. 

And the little grey-blue garg-pup galloped behind the brooding young man, before Boudicca took her son up by the 
scruff of the neck and carried him back to the cavern. 


To Oberon, his thoughts were perfectly sane. 

This...freak...threatened his existence. 

Though it saddened him that he had reacted too quickly on Odin and, for a fleeting instant, wished the Norse fae was 
still at his side, he failed to see the logic that Odin had seen when conversing with the child of three races. 

He did see, however, the possibility that, if he had left all as it was before, the boy would not have realised his fate 
and grown not knowing of the heritage he possessed. 

Oberon had encountered the boy's lineage... 

...it was he who had cursed Luach's mother... 

...it was he who wooed and married Luach's grandmother... 

...it was he who fought and banished Luach's great-grandmother... 

...Oberon shook his head, focusing on the small gargoyle form approaching him, the eyes bright green rimmed with 
silver... 

...without fear... 

Oberon knew Odin had granted the boy his Eye, though there was no indication he was in possession of it, or vice 
versa. 

Though now, there was an aura of magic around the gargoyle hybrid, a radiant halo of mixed magic, primal but 
powerful. 

Oberon was not aware of what the child was capable of until that moment. 

Secretly, he had hoped this...Luach, as Arin MacDuff had called him...would have fled the island in fear. Though 
madness the lord suffered, he did not wish any bloodshed on either side. 

And, in his own anger, he had murdered his own brother. 

There was no stopping now. 

"Oberon!" the boy called out, the tone revealing much more stamina than the fae king would have initially guessed. 
"I will face you now!" 

"Then so be it, boy." Oberon nodded, silently admiring Luach's bravery and honour, a trait of both sides of his rich 
heritage, of the Familiae Caligorum and the line of Macbeth and Findlaech. There seemed to be no fear within the 
boy; only courage and.... 

There was something else...perhaps duty? 

"The rules are simple," the fae lord continued without missing a beat. "There will only be one battle...and that battle 
consisting of two opponents." 

"You and me," Luach interrupted. 

"We are to use nothing but the resources we possess." 

"Sounds fair," the gargoyle hybrid nodded. 

This almost caught Oberon off guard. 

Almost. 

He had somewhat expected a plea for a handicap, similar to the battle between him and the gargoyle Goliath a long 
time ago for the real world, roughly only four short years on Avalon. 

Instead, the boy accepted. No bargains. No deals. 

Curious, indeed. 

He watched as the creature before him mantled his wings and lifted his head, meeting the fae's cold blue eyes as he 
tossed his wet bangs out of his face. 

The strange green eyes...Oberon recognised them as the colour of Arin MacDuff, of his wife Titania. 

And through them, he witnessed defiance. 

The fae lord seemed unaffected by the rain as the boy's teeth chattered slightly in the cold. In a pair of torn jeans and 
a black tee-shirt, he was soaked to the bone. 

Otherwise, he showed no signs of mortal weakness. 

The wind picked up suddenly as the currents of Avalon's magic shifted beneath his feet. Frantically, Luc began to 
siphon some of that power as well, drawing it though his body, preparing for whatever was in store... 

Oberon raised his hands to chest level, then pushed them out towards much smaller creature. A great wave of mud 
and earth rolling around his tall form barrelled forward at a tremendously high speed. 

"_SHIELD!_" Luc shouted in barely enough time before the rumbling terrain engulfed him. 

There was silence for about ten seconds. 

The fae army started to stand down when they all sensed something tingling in the air. 

Then, a strong, clear voice, unmuffled, called out milliseconds before Oberon was bombarded by large clumps of 
earth raining down on him. 

"_RETURN!_" 

The fae lord certainly did not expect the hybrid to survive the assault, let alone be able to redirect the attack. Oberon 
lost his balance in surprise and stumbled, falling in a rather undignified manner onto the muddy ground. 

Luc stood, his head down, his silver-hued eyes flashing like the lightning in the sky as he glared down at the fallen 
fae. 

"Don't," Luach snarled forcefully, "EVER screw with me." 

"You don't have any clue who you are dealing with, child." As Oberon shot up straight, the rain suddenly intensified, 
like shards of sharp needles. His adversary winced, throwing up his hands to protect his eyes. 

Soon, where each razor-sharp drop landed, drew blood. 

With a moan of pain, the gargoyle hybrid sank to his knees, then fell, the agony becoming intense. 

Oberon stared down at the suffering child, ready to put him out of his misery, when a shriek rivaling the Baen 
Sidhe's caused him to jerk his head upwards. At first, he assumed it was his nettlesome half-human stepdaughter-- 

--only to see the brick-red female he had banished earlier in the evening gunning straight for him, her eyes blazing 
like hot coals. 

"It's me you want, Oberon!" she shouted defiantly before he brought his arm around and swung downwards on her 
neck, knocking her next to her brother, who was still writhing in pain. 

"Luach," Kathryn whispered, taking his hand, her new fingers sensing the dying flow of magic within it. He moved 
his head ever so slightly, looked straight into her eyes for a brief second, then collapsed. "My brother..." 

(my son...) 

With a vengeful howl, the female leapt back at the fae lord, teeth bared, her clawed gauntlets taut and curled like the 
claws of a bird of prey. Oberon glided away, though at the last minute, Kat slashed out, grazing Oberon's arm. 

He cursed loudly in the ancient fae tongue as red seeped through his colourful sleeve. 

"Damn you!" he cursed, snarling at Kat. 

"You dare to strike my brother!" she snapped as she pounced again. 


Luc, still fighting for consciousness, attempted to open his hurting eyes, and found it too difficult to execute, for the 
pain was much too great. 

Suddenly, he felt himself being gently picked up...though as gently as this new person handled him, it still sent his 
body into painful fits of spasms. 

And then there was darkness. 

Not like he had sensed before, when his eyes were too swollen to open, but true darkness. 

"The poor boy," he barely heard an unfamiliar and oddly accented voice whisper. 

"Damn Oberon," another, this one very recognisable, growled. It was Caligo! "We should get him to Mab 
immediately." 

"What makes you think she will help him?" 

"I will make her," Caligo growled. 

"Mein freund, you are truly mad," the other chuckled humourlessly. 

"This is my grandson's life at stake," the ancient gargoyle snarled. "Mab knows that if Luach dies, then my mother is 
one step closer on her goal." 

"Scheiss," the other swore. "She is truly that evil?" 

"As my father was good," Caligo whispered, though there was by no means any humour in his statement. "Come." 

"Grandfather?" Luc whispered, barely inaudible. 

"Rest, boy," the half demon, half angel hushed. To his companion, he remarked, "We must hurry, Wagner...he might 
not survive till sunrise." 

"Understood," the other, Wagner, retorted militantly. 

And Luc abruptly drifted into a deep slumber. 


*** 

Though Kat had not seen what had happened--her attention was on Oberon and not her surroundings, the spectre 
within her mind remained vigilant, and saw the two melt in from the shadows created by the night. 

The shorter, though still a little over six feet tall, appeared human, with blond hair and stormy blue eyes. Brooklyn 
immediately recognised him as Wagner, one of the Clone Wars Resistance long ago.  He pulled out a handgun as the 
taller one--his own father, Caligo--knelt over Luc's body, sighing with a defeated breath. 

(what are you doing here?) Brooklyn demanded forcefully. Caligo looked up momentarily, though did not seem 
surprised. 

(i'm saving your son's life, daemon,) he snarled mentally. 

The spectre froze in horror, his thoughts somewhat jumbled as his father and Caligo's companion merged back into 
the dark shadows, with Luc in the charcoal grey gargoyle's arms. 

What caused him to panic so much? he demanded to himself, as his thoughts returned to aiding his daughter, who 
was at a stalemate with Oberon as they battled physically. 

(if you harm my son in anyway, caligo...) he warned, unsure if Caligo had heard him. 

It became apparent that his father had when he retorted, (he is of my blood as well, my son. i would never harm any 
of my line,) Caligo reminded, before his existence vanished from all senses. 

Sadly, the spectre watched Oberon draw a long and thin sword, curved like a scimitar. 

"If we must do battle with weapons, woman," Oberon snarled, "then so be it." 

At that moment, Brooklyn wished for his daikatana as Kat deftly but barely dodged the blade's arc. The metal, 
unlike anything either of the souls had seen before, glowed an iridescent white as it sliced though the air, singing 
with a beautiful but deadly chime. The gauntlets, however, seemed to howl ravenously, seeking faerie flesh 
hungrily. 

(blood and souls for my lord arioch,) Brooklyn grumbled sardonically. (kathryn, watch his hands, not his blade!) 

She nodded, rolling from a slice as she batted outward with one arm, catching the elven blade and leaning onto it 
against the ground, using her other arms to backslap the fae lord. This left a smoking blister on his cheek where the 
iron connected. 

"You shall pay dearly for that!" Oberon roared. 

"That was for Luach, bastard!" she snarled, pinning him with her gauntlets on his shoulders. The odor of burning 
flesh permeated the winds and spread in all directions. "He would have never dreamed of going against you, and yet 
you insisted that he do so! You brought this on yourself...and now Odin is dead and Luach is dying! Because of 
you!" 

(kathryn...) Brooklyn soothed. (this isn't right...open your mind and listen...) 

Angrily, she growled somewhat, meeting the ice blue eyes of the fae lord, who, at that moment, seemed no different 
than any other creature. 

His eyes, though full of pain, also filled with realisation. 

(this is what i was trying to point out to you earlier, kathryn,) Brooklyn whispered. (i heard oberon's doubts...he was 
doubting his madness...) 

Kat rocked onto the balls of her feet, releasing the fae. Oberon stood, his face and arms blistered and running with 
pus, though his eyes, still proud, also admitted some defeat. 

"Your father, though his death was premature, still was wise beyond his years, Kathryn," Oberon retorted hoarsely. 
"I began to doubt the words told to me long ago when I fought your brother...for the time, I saw a worthy opponent, 
a noble heart. For the time, I thought I fought another fae, until I saw the blood." 

"And then I attacked you," Kat remarked, almost shamefully, shocked to hear Oberon not use the royal pronouns. 

He had been humbled. 

Turning to his army, he silently demanded their attention. 

"We were wrong to heed the prophecy, and..." he faltered somewhat, unaccustomed in what he was going to say 
next. "...and we must apologise for our actions against them. 

"We are taking leave for the moment, children. The female gargoyle will join us on a journey to the Cavern of 
Destiny to seek out an answer of the being who sought to destroy not only your king though corruption and 
treachery, but also an innocent life, whom, after this disgraceful incident, may no longer know that innocence. 

"Fare thee well, children of Oberon." With a wave of his hand, both he and Kathryn vanished in a mist. 


As the fae army dispersed into anarchic chatter, three stood on the waterfall overlooking the defunct battlegrounds. 

"What does this mean, sisters?" Phoebe demanded, her voice quaking. "I cannot see what this will bring!" 

"Neither can I," Selene grumbled angrily. 

"Nor I," Luna agreed softly. 

"I can," the Soothsayer snorted, materialising between the Weird Sisters. "And I don't need my second sight to 
foresee this...a certain demon we all know and love is going to be royally pissed." He snorted again. "Also, a certain 
queen mother is going to follow suit..." 

"I understand..." Phoebe retorted slowly. "If Oberon succeeded, Nox would have been successful..." 

"...and if Luach and Kathryn triumphed, Mab would have been triumphant..." Luna added. 

"...and, with this draw, both Oberon and the children were deemed the winners, and both Nox and Mab are the 
losers." Selene smirked. "This proves most interesting, indeed." 

"Now I see why you conjured good ol' Brook," the Soothsayer laughed shortly. 

"We were told by Mab to, Soothsayer," Luna remarked. 

"Yes, you did say that earlier," he rubbed his chin. "And we know Mab's much smarter than to let Brooklyn figure 
out the plan..." 

"This is quite confusing, but intriguing," Phoebe looked downward, a slow smile crossing her face. "Sisters, friend 
Soothsayer, let us see how the mortals fare." 

"'Fraid I've gotta take a raincheck on that one, girls." The Soothsayer bowed formally. "Right now, I've got to be the 
bringer of bad news to Nox. Good luck!" 

"Fare thee well, friend Soothsayer," Luna replied as he melted back into the shadows. 


*** 

"Gott Verdamnt!" the German cursed when Caligo released his friend's arm as they rematerialised from the 
Shadows. "I don't think I've ever seen anything more dreary than your little realm, mein freund." 

"I should take that a compliment, coming from you, Wagner," Caligo smirked humourlessly. "After aeons of moving 
though them, you tend to get used to the 'dreariness.'" With Luc still in his arms, he scoped the large cavern, his eyes 
finally settling on the underground lake. In a loud, booming voice, he shouted aloud, "Mab! We will have words!" 

There was a hmph! and a mist settled over the water. 

"What is it, Shadow Lord?" a female's voice demanded forcefully, irritable. 

"Apparently, your plan did not fall through," Caligo scoffed. "You are not that much older than I...you used to ask 
me for advise during the First Battles, then you ignored me...like Oberon did with his brother Odin." 

"A pity," Mab's voice quivered a bit. "I liked Odin...but you, Shadow Lord, are becoming too brash in your old age." 
The voice paused. "Tell me, who is your friend?" 

"STOP STALLING!" the immortal gargoyle snarled. "My grandson is bleeding to death from the wounds Oberon 
inflicted...it is the least you can do to heal him." 

"I hold no ties with the boy; my interests were only with his sister." 

"DAMN YOU!" Caligo howled, and Wagner stepped back a bit, placing his hand on his Walther PPK. Mab gasped 
loudly as the man whom she thought to be human unfurled large, multi-jointed wings to full span. 

"Would you wish me to 'negotiate' a little, Caligo?" he snapped. 

"I appreciate your concern, Wagner, but I think I can handle this." Caligo unmantled his wings to their full span, 
larger than that of most gargoyles. "Mab, he is of your blood as well, not just mine! This is your daughter's 
daughter's son!" 

"I am well aware of who he is," Mab's voice retorted coolly. "But my dealings are with the females of my line." 

"Damn you." He snarled, though his voice soft, his eyes blazed in unholy white fire. Caligo bowed his head, 
glancing down at the young man in his arms, Luc's blood of three races leaking onto his grandfather's arms. 

"MAB!" There was another shout from behind the two men as Oberon materialised from a swarm of faerie mists. 
"You are just as cold as when we met you! We did right to overthrow you!" 

"Usurper!" Mab retaliated as an angry whirlwind of water and wind sprouted upwards, heading towards land. "You 
should have died for your crimes, least of all your rise to power, most of all, fratricide." 

"My head cleared for a split second," Oberon remarked coolly, dropping the royal pronouns for the moment, "and in 
that second, I saw my folly. 

"You knew what would happen if the boy faced me," he continued. "You knew that if he faced me, he would put up 
an honourable fight, but I would succeed over him. 

"However, you also knew that the only weapon with any power over my death could only be wielded by a child of 
three races. Every fae knew that...and though I did fear this ages past, I do not now." 

"Why, Mab?" Another voice, female and radiating with power. "Why should my brother, as well as Oberon, die?" 

The whirlwind solidified, and though they all expected a tall, magnificent fae-- 

--Grandmother stood before them all. 
"Because I made a pact with Nox after the Battles," she sighed softly. 

Kathryn gasped, her eyes watering, though inside, the other presence bubbled with anger. 

"What?" she mouthed, though it seemed that Caligo was the one most struck by this news. 

"YOU WHAT?!" he roared. "You DARE make a pact with a creature as corrupt and sinister as Nox?! What was the 
pact, Mab?" 

Grandmother glanced downward. 

"That," she sighed, "if I could deliver one of the Familiae to her, she would make certain my vengeance against 
Oberon would be complete." 

"You bitch," Kat snarled, tears now streaking down her cheeks. Inside, her mind was racing, the anger casting a red 
cast on all she saw. "You WANTED Luc to face Oberon?!" 

"My patronage and power can only protect the females of my lineage," Mab shook her head. "I planned the 
vengeance over the epochs, and it corrupted my thinking." 

"The hell it did," the crimson gargoyle retorted. 

"You would be willing to hand over one of my own blood to Nox?" Caligo continued. "Do you know what you 
promised her? Their souls! You wouldn't understand that the mortal soul isn't interwoven into their bodies like the 
fae; instead, it is almost a separate entity. If Nox possesses a soul of the Familiae, she only becomes more 
powerful!" 

"Knowing from first hand knowledge, you are correct, Shadow Lord," Mad nodded slowly. "I was a fool to make a 
pact with Nox." 

"Then heal my grandson!" Caligo demanded. "Break the pact!" 

"Alas, I cannot." Grandmother shook her head. "Luach is not in my power. I am old, even for a fae; as I said before, 
if it was Kathryn wounded, I would have been able to; but, I can only work though the females of my line." 

"Then allow us," Oberon hissed, staggering over to the boy in Caligo's arms. "He was a formidable opponent, 
though it need not be to the death." The fae lord placed a hand on the bleeding gargoyle's chest and closed his eyes. 
The wounds dealt to him had weakened him and his ability to cast magic normally. 
Heaving a sigh, he muttered softly: 


"'Child of gargoyle, human, and fae 
'Our apologies as we drive death away.'" 


The simple cantrip only sounded simple; the great amounts of energy pulled up from the island's currents was 
tremendous for even Wagner to close his eyes as the rush of fae winds blew over the small crowd. With a howl, the 
winds became visible, iridescent with the green of fae magic, as they flowed over and finally careened around the 
tan male, the currents entering though the small incisions in Luach's body. Kat cried more freely, though the angry 
red haze seemed to intensify around her. She felt a growl grow from her throat as Oberon stepped back, leaning 
against a nearby crop of rocks. 

"It would have been," Oberon whispered, "a request of my older brother to aid the boy...now that I see that Odin's 
wisdom did prove right, only post-humously." The king of the fae turned to Mab, who stood her ground. "Old witch, 
we had overthrown you for attempting to side with both Law and Chaos. You must serve one or the other, or remain 
Neutral. The New Olympians tried to do so as well, and now most of them are without their powers, and in exile 
from both Avalon and the Real World." 

"I was attempting to make peace with both!" Mab whimpered. 

"You knew it could not be done. It is impossible. It is never meant to be!" Caligo interrupted. "To do so would upset 
the cosmic balance!" 

(oh shit,) Brooklyn's ghost growled. (not the "cosmic balance" shit again...i'm sorry, kat...) 

"For what?" she demanded aloud, before she found what he had meant as she was gently pushed to the back of her 
own mind. 

"Cosmic Balance?" she heard her own voice scoff at Caligo. "That's all you cared about...cosmic balance...it's all 
bullshit!" 

Wagner glanced at Caligo, then Kat, then at Mab. 

"Do you realise how many times I had heard that? Whatever happened on acting on instinct, on what you felt was 
right? You cared far too much on maintaining what does not exist!" The words were harsh, uncaring. 

"Brooklyn, why don't you face your father instead of hiding within your daughter's mind?" Mab demanded, a little 
cynical, as her form wavered, becoming taller, thinner, much more contrasting, her skin paling to china white; her 
hair, black as obsidian. Her features smoothed, though her eyes remained a brilliant emerald green. With a wave of 
her hand, the warrior sank to her knees, the guise of the armour fell, returning her to her usual jeans and tee-shirt, 
though her lower arms and hands were still black as pitch. 

Next to her floated an angry cloud of darkness, the only illumination radiating from the blazing white hot eyes. 

"Mein Gott," Wagner hissed, keeping his firearm in a relaxed but ready grip. 

"You!" the spectre snarled at the queen mother of the fae. "You dared risk my children? You TRICKED my 
daughter! HOW COULD YOU?!" 

"I tricked myself, Champion!" Mab snapped back. "I was so caught up in my scheme of revenge I did not see the 
consequences!" 

"Far too late to pick up what you have spilled, Mab," Caligo rumbled. "You were my friend, long ago. Now I do not 
know you." And, with that, the large gargoyle turned his back, setting his grandson down next to Kat, who gathered 
him up in her arms and held him close. "You risked my son's children for your own revenge? They were naive on 
the affairs of the Lords of Law and Chaos, and would have remained so until you and Nox conspired to meet each 
other's demands!" He pointed his sword toward Kat and Luc. "You cursed Kathryn's touch, and Luach almost ended 
up a brainwashed servant of Chaos! Do you have any idea how powerful the boy is?" The sword returned to Mab's 
throat, the tip just centimeters from her pale skin. Her eyes widened in pure dread. "Give me just one reason not to 
destroy you where you stand." 

"Caligo, stop!" Oberon's voice echoed though the cavern. "No more bloodshed on this isle...We are personally 
responsible for both the Guardian's and our brother Odin's death...and we will not witness any more." Striding to 
Mab, he stared her down. "Mab, I will not fight any longer...your vengeance is now meaningless...but I will not take 
your life..." The fae's voice rose louder. "Mab, once queen of the Fae, you are banished to the Realm of Man, back to 
the forests you had called home for a thousand years prior to the Gathering...you will not leave the village, and you 
will be powerless beyond the boundaries." The tone dropped once more. "You surprised us, Mab...as Grandmother, 
you were well liked in the Court, and peaceful towards the humans...you showed Natsilane the ways of his people 
and his heritage...return there, and take up the guise of Grandmother...it suited you much better." The Fae king 
turned on his heel, signifying his judgment was passed. 

Mab hung her head, already, feeling her once omnipotent power drain from her...the youth she regained for a brief 
time followed. 

"My apologies, my lord," her voice was soft, "and fare thee well...you managed to break the prophecy...perhaps the 
times that follow would be better than the ones before?" And, with that, she vanished into the waters. 

"What did she mean?" Brooklyn's ghost demanded. 

"Maybe referring to Elswher?" Caligo suggested. "Or perhaps another time where this had happened before?" 

Wagner rolled his eyes sheathing the Walther. "Caligo, you've succeeded in confusing me once more." 

Kat glanced up at the two gargoyles, her mouth open but no words forming. 

"Come," Oberon sighed. "This chapter of the universe is over with a twist ending...we must prepare for the next 
chapter." 


*** 

Tellemacus took perch on a ledge about ten feet from the ground, staring at the dismantling army. Eyes narrowed, he 
watched their movements like a hawk. 

"And what is your opinion of the situation, my friend?" Fortinbras asked the young Grecian. 

"I do not trust the air..." Tellemacus growled. "Something's not right...why would Oberon drop the battle like that?" 

"He has seen his blunder," Naomi whispered, coming up behind Fortinbras and taking his hand. "And he has been 
humbled." 

The blue gargoyle raised an eyeridge. 

"Oh?" 

"Mab has been defeated, though it may not be for the better, nor the worst." The grey gargoyle shook her head, 
leaning up against her mate. "I don't know what to make of it." 

"Neither do we," the three-as-one voice of the Weird Sisters agreed. 

"This is an outcome that no one, not even the Grey Lords, could have predicted," Luna remarked. 

"I think it has something to do with summoning the Champion..." Phoebe added. 

"...because the Champion was able to see through the guise," Luna realised. 

"It does not make much sense, sisters," Selene retorted. "Why would Mab ask us to summon him in the first place?" 

"Because subconsciously she knew that what she was doing was wrong," Naomi concluded. 

The three fae stared down at the frail gargoyle. 

"This may be true," Luna remarked. 

With not so much as a good bye, the three left the gargoyles pondering. 

"I tire," Naomi whispered as Fortinbras took her hand and, with a nod to Tellemacus, returned to the cave. 

The Grecian gargoyle gazed back out and sighed as a light drizzle soaked his hair, dripping into his face. With a 
quick swipe, he pushed the hair back over his scalp. 

It had been a long night. 


*** 

There was a binding light within the cavern, causing most of the gargoyles to cry out and stand up their defenses. 

"Stand down!" Kat shouted out. "It's over. We're through being pawns for a gods' game." 

Oberon gazed over the motley group of gargoyles and the three humans. 

"We apologise for our actions," he stated, "and, though we all were manipulated by treachery to fight against one 
another, we were up to this disgraceful incident co-existing peacefully on Avalon's hills." 

"Speak for yourself, bloke," Arin hissed under her breath. A couple of snorts were issued from Katharine, Gabriel 
and Fortinbras, as well as Caligo and Kat. 

And one other. 

She raised an eyebrow at the mystery laugh, hauntingly familiar, pondering it as Oberon continued his oration. 

"We would welcome the gargoyle clan of Avalon, as well as the princess, Arin, and Alexander, back to the castle. 
We claim responsibility for what has transpired; we will claim responsibility for restoring the balance we once had 
on fair Avalon." 

"I'd swear Himmler was his speech writer," Wagner muttered under his breath. Caligo stifled a laugh. "I'm serious!" 

"I was thinking more of Churchill," the ancient gargoyle shrugged. 

There sounded a moan as the tan male finally awoke, attempting to focus his eyes. 

"I feel like shit," Luc slurred, leaning against the wall. 

And suddenly, his eyes grew wide as he noticed one of his friends kneeling next to a makeshift cot blanketed over, 
her back to the rest of the crowd. 

Ereinee and... 
He awkwardly bolted toward the cot, kneeling next to Ereinee. 

The olive green female with the large eyes sadly shook her head. 

"She didn't make it, Luc," she mouthed, tears streaming to her eyes. "She was gone not even five minutes before you 
returned..." 

"Too late..." he bit his bottom lip, then, instinctively, dove at the sheet and tore it away, pulling C-4 up with his arm 
supporting her limp neck. Nuzzling the crook of her neck, he began mumbling, chanting something no one could 
hear tangibly. 

Caligo picked up on what he was going. 

"Luach, no!" he shouted out. "You cannot bring back the dead!" 

The young man glared up, the whites of his eyes now silver, as he regarded the one who dared challenged him. 

"Watch me," he snarled, holding C-4's body tighter. 

Ereinee strained to hear what he was chanting over and over... 

"Please live...please live for me..." 

The small Grecian female stood, crying softy. 

It had took him this long to realise his feelings for the young Outklaw... 

...and too late... 

The magic of Avalon's magic was rich and seductive, and very strong indeed as it flowed through Luc's body, 
helping spread his Will for the magic he wove...something screamed of wrongness in his actions; another thing cried 
just the opposite. 

Silent now, Luc hugged C-4's corpse close, his tears becoming more apparent. 

Magic still flowed freely now, coursing between the two gargoyles, as he closed his eyes and hid his face into her 
shoulder. 

Please live for me, Kerridwen, he pleaded silently. I love you.... 

Arin suddenly shivered, glancing at Caligo, who smiled faintly at her. 

"It has come full circle," he remarked. 

"Indeed it has," she replied, "though you never tried to stop me saving your son's life." 

Caligo placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"He never ceases to amaze me." The ancient gargoyle shook his head. 

"He's special all right," Kat whispered. 

Suddenly growing rigid, Luc's eyes flew open, blazing iridescent silver. 

"_LIVE!_" he shouted, and Kerridwen greedily took a breath of damp air. 

Oberon watched the scenario stoically, silently. 

And suddenly, he applauded. 

"Your motion touched us, child," he retorted. "But why?" 

"Why?" Luc mouthed, confused with the question. "Because she's my friend...and it was my fault she died...." He 
choked a sob, then, laying the girl back onto the cot, bolted out into the clearing night. 

"Luach!" Arin and Kat both shouted out, though Oberon held up his hand. 

"He is overwhelmed," he exclaimed. "Let him be." 

"Funny, coming from you," Arin snapped. "I'm his mother!" 

"He's right, Bright Sun," another voice called out. "Luach needs time to think." 

Arin froze, eyes wide in recognition. 

"Oh my god, it can't be..." she whispered. 


There was too much commotion for Ereinee to handle. She exited silently into the clearing night, the little garg pup 
perpetually following her. She glanced around, trying to see her tormented friend. 

"Luc!" she called out, racing over to his form, which was perched over the ledge overlooking the makeshift dock 
where two skiffs bobbed in the calming sea. 

The tan male only glanced at her, then returned to his gazing out into the mists as if scrying for an answer to an 
unspoken question. 

"Luc, are you all right?" Ereinee whispered, kneeling next to him. 

The young man snorted somewhat. 

"If it wasn't for those damned renegade Shock Troopers," he mumbled. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I was about twenty," he grumbled, "when they attacked the castle...they killed Aunt Angela and Uncle 
Broadway...and Gabe, who was a little younger than me...it was when I found my Word..." A sob choked his throat. 
"I tried to bring them back, but I didn't know how...but I killed ten of the bastards just by touching them...if they 
never attacked...I wouldn't be cursed with this damn burden!" He punched the ground hard. "I wouldn't have killed 
C..." 

"You brought her back...." 

"I don't think I could have if we were back in Manhattan," he retorted ruefully. "Avalon's magic is extremely 
strong....Ereinee, don't you understand? If this had happened at home, I don't think she would have survived!" 
Ereinee's eyes were downcast as she stared at her hands. 

"Luc, I don't know what to say..." she whispered. "I know about you and Tellemacus's rivalry...and I didn't mean 
what I said about hating you...I love you like a brother...but..." she sighed. "I don't think I could ever love you as a 
lover." 

"I didn't think so..." Luc shook his head. "Ereinee?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do you fear me after what happened?" 

The web-winged female stared at him for a full minute before lowering her eyes. 

"Yes." 

"I thought so," Luc mouthed, and stared back out into the swirling mists. 

Ereinee heaved another sigh, then stood and walked down the beaten path to the beach, away from the skiffs. 

Watching her for a bit, Luc then spread his wings and glided down to the dock. Mantling his wings once more, he 
folded his arms on one of the poles and buried his face. 

The little garg-pup whined a bit, skittering down the path and finally nuzzled his muzzle against Luc's leg. 


The excitement pretty much over, Oberon excused himself and disappeared, asking Alexander to please join the 
court for a while. Most of the Avalon Clan had dispersed across the island. 

Tellemacus and Kat went to search out Luc and Ereinee as Caligo and Wagner said their good-byes to the others. 

"I don't understand, Caligo," Wagner stated, once they were outside the cave. "Why did we come here in the first 
place when your grandchildren were safe after all?" 

"Information, mei amico," Caligo retorted. "It seems that there is more afoot than meets the eye...and now that Nox 
is truly after at least Luach, I cannot leave Manhattan." 

"Who is this Nox anyway?" the German demanded softly. 

"She is a powerful demon from the lowest of all hells, with vengeance and megalomania fueling a good part of her 
power. Her goal is to rid the earth of all life, and through that, she must take the souls of my Familiae." 

Wagner exhaled heavily, then raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Never a dull moment with you, is there?" He 
flipped his thumb back to the cave. "What about Brooklyn?" 

"Brooklyn's soul is that of the Champion Eternal. Though it can never be put to rest permanently, it also cannot be 
taken by Nox, which is a good thing." 

"But why would Nox be interested in only your family alone?" 

"Is it not obvious?" 

Wagner paused, considering. "She's your mother, isn't she, mein freund?" 

Caligo nodded slowly. "And she seeks vengeance on me," he retorted. "Come now...we must depart this isle." 

"Can't we just take one of the boats?" Wagner suggested. "I hate that shadow slide of yours." 

"Then close your eyes," Caligo remarked humourlessly as he took hold of his friend's shoulder, the two melding into 
the darkness. 


She awoke to soft talking in the distance. The female voice was Luc and Kat's mother...the other, she couldn't 
place.... 

Gingerly, C-4 touched her forehead, attempting to fight the headache that accompanied every move. 

What had happened? 

Sitting up slowly, she cradled her head for a bit, then stood shakily. Taking a couple of test steps, she finally 
maintained somewhat of an equilibrium as she staggered out into the night air, a couple of hours close to morning. 

She aimlessly wandered down a path that went to the beach, finding exactly who she was looking for. 

"Luc?" she hissed behind the sulking male, touching his shoulder lightly as she rested her weight on the other arm 
against the adjacent pole. "Are you all right?" 

"I think I should be the one to ask you," he whispered sullenly. 

"I've got a headache that rivals any hangover, but I'll live." She leaned forward to look into his face. "Now, are 
you?" 

He growled a bit, then retorted, "As all right as I can be after nearly destroying me, my sister, and blowing the entire 
universe to kingdom come, not to mention killing you." His voice much lower, he added, "I'm surprised you want to 
talk to me." 

"You didn't know what would happen," she reasoned. "Odin tricked you." 

"Odin didn't trick me; he warned me before he died. I chose not to heed him." There was another slight growl. "And 
none of this was his doing to begin with; he only wanted peace on Avalon." 

"Well," she smiled weakly, "look on the bright side: Tellemacus is terrified of you now." 

"Along with everyone else," he snorted, fighting another sob. 

"I'm not," she whispered. "But what's done is done...and you saved me...that's all that matters...." 

"I couldn't save Odin," Luc retorted. 

"Again, what's done is done. I'm sure Odin would be sorely missed." 

"You didn't even know him!" the male snapped. "How can you say that?" 

C-4 backed up a bit, shocked. 

"I'm sorry..." she hissed. "I don't know what to say that would bring Odin back." 

"I'm not asking you to." 

"You managed to cheat death for me," she interjected, "but you couldn't with Odin. Listen, Luc, I owe you my very 
being for me just standing here...you've accomplished what everyone else had dreamed of doing, but everything dies 
at one point. I lost five of my clan in a car accident a while back. I know how to deal with death...you deny it...." 

"How dare you say that?!" he roared, eyes flaring white. "You know I lost my uncle, aunt and cousin to Shockers--" 

"I know the details, Luc, but you haven't accepted that they're dead. Instead, you've mulled in your grief. Everyone 
dies, Luc." She gazed down at the water. "My father died in that car accident as well. He was driving drunk from a 
party...they were all pretty sloshed...and he hit head-on with a tractor trailer." She shook her head. "At least your 
father died honourably, fighting for what he believed in...what did my father die for?" 

"I'm sorry." Luc bowed his head, defeated. "But the damage is done. Odin's dead and Kat's cursed because of me, 
and I can't do one goddamn thing about it. 

"I'm not the same person anymore, Kerridwen," he finished. "It doesn't matter, though. Never did. Never will." 

The dull red female bit her lip, silent, watching the reflection of Luc in the water lay its head down in its arms, 
shoulders slightly shaking. Listening carefully, she could hear his soft crying. 

"Luach," she whispered gently into his ear, remembering what she had told him way back in July... "Luach, I...care 
very deeply for you..." 

She received no response other than his shaking ceased. 

Then, sadly, she turned to walk away, tripping somewhat. Throwing her hands out instinctively to catch herself, she 
was surprised to find her descent abruptly halted by a pair of gentle hands. 

"You're still weak," Luc observed softly, snaking his arm around her shoulder. "Stick with me until sunrise...the 
day'll heal you." 

Rather than returning to the cliff, he helped her to the edge of the dock, where they both settled down, their feet 
dangling into the cool sea water. 

"Luc," she whispered, "Have you made up your mind?" 

"About you?" he questioned. When she nodded, he sighed. "I was angry that you told Ereinee I was...interested..