Chapter VIII

Revelations

I can't believe only a couple of days have passed. It seems a million years ago that Oris and I lived our quaint lives in the middle of nowhere. So much has happened in such a short space of time.

I was attacked by a Marsh Golem; my best friend revealed that he was a century old vampyre before embracing his hidden identity and fleeing the scene. I've saved a twelve-year-old warrior from him, been recruited by a talking teddy bear and subsequently teamed up with an angel to stop the apocalyptic rise of a near extinct race. I don’t think I’m being melodramatic when I say that it all sounds insane. A part of me even thinks this could all be some crazy dream… if only it wasn't so lucid.

We've been walking for a while now. Slowly we're climbing a mountain. Oris waits for us at the top, or so Gabe reliably informs us. Oris apparently has the sword. A sword that can cut through anything… and we're on our way up to fight him.

I think that's why everyone’s so quiet. They're scared. I'm not... but then I don't intend to fight my best friend. I'm going to ask for an explanation. That's all I want.

I just need to know why he's doing all this. It might make him see clearly, make him see how stupid he's being. On the other hand, maybe he'll explain it all and it'll make sense. I can't think of a reason, but that doesn't mean there isn't one and I trust Oris to make a proper moral decision.

The Haunter is sitting on my foot. Even as I walk, he keeps perfect balance on my trainer. It's as though he can choose which rules of nature to obey and which ones to disregard. As always, his head is pointed at me - a blank stare from a black shadow of a creature.

I haven't thought about my mother in a long while. I think the Haunter's angry at me for that. It is his purpose after all. Perhaps he's losing his touch. I might be that after all this time, I've gotten used to his presence… No - I think the problem is that there's been so much happening; I haven’t had time to wallow in my own guilt. But with this whole Oris thing and Gabe, Oflor and Ivy… I don’t think anyone could think about anything else.

I already feel like I've known Ivy for ages even though we only met three days ago. Gabe hates her. He thinks she's shrill, talkative and full of herself. I agree to some extent, but she's also the easiest person to talk to out of everyone. Oflor is a nice person, but I don't like to draw attention to the whole rhyming thing and Gabe's too sulky to talk to seriously.

So I've been talking to Ivy, mostly. She mostly tells stories about her training. How she beat this guy or how she tricked this woman. She constantly goes on about some woman who trained her. She must have told me the story about ten times already. It’s always the same thing. She's whip-mad as well. Everything’s like whipping, or isn't as good as whipping or reminds her of the time she used a certain whip.

It's interesting to some degree. In amongst the tall tales she mentions some interesting facts. Like, apparently in a far eastern culture, everyone must carry a whip - it's sacrilege for you to touch anything but a whip. Weird, I know, but it's still pretty interesting.

She's been through a lot. I did a lot of training in my youth, but her village apparently paid these obscure whip-masters from worlds away to teach her how to make and use whips. All of this just so she'd stand some chance of fulfilling a prophecy.

And that's what all this is about. Some stupid Prophecy; a Fairytale, apparently. Broken up bits of the future told to different people. This whole prophecy thing doesn't exactly fly with me: there's too many questions and not enough answers, but I suppose it doesn't matter whether I like the idea of prophecy. There must be some truth to the whole thing or we wouldn't be here.

I know Gabe isn't telling us everything, and poor Oflor can't even speak properly to tell us what he knows. Ivy doesn't seem to care about it. It's almost like she's repressed the revelation that she was sent into the forest, by her people and her parents to die. I feel like I'm the only person who actually cares about the prophecy side of things.

"Gabe!" I shout upwards.Ever since Gabe got back from that village, he's been flying high above us and not speaking at all. I mean all he really told us was that Oris got the sword and that he didn’t turn this Blaze guy.

I see him slowly glide down. His white trousers flap carefully around his legs and his vest clings to his torso, brilliantly white against to the tanned skin that adorns his face and arms. He comes down in with tremendous flaps of wings and glides along in front of me as I walk, his bare toes occasionally skimming the ground.

"What?" he says. His irate tone is all too transparent, but I need answers… I need to know what’s going on with my friend.

"I was wondering about this whole prophecy thing. What's the deal with it all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I drop my voice. "Ivy had her prophecy, saying that she would die."

"It didn't say that," Gabe says.

"I know, I know, but everyone thought that's what it meant and now you tell us that it didn't mean she would die, but that she would nearly die. I mean, are all prophecies so misleading? Who would bother to make a prophecy like that... And come to think of it, who makes these prophecies? Where do they come from?"

"That's a long story, Jem," Gabe replies in an unusually focused voice.

I look up at the peak of the mountain, still towering above us. "I think we might have time."

"Okay, fine," he says sharply, "I’ll try to explain. First question: How do you predict the future?"

I didn't realise that this explanation was going to require participation. "I dunno." I reply.

"At least try."

"Um..." I try to think of some clever answer, but none comes. "Looking at the stars?"

“No.” There’s no impatience in his voice now, in all honesty, I think he’s glad to be able to share whatever he knows. “If I were to throw a rock at you, what would you do?” he asks.

“Duck?” I suggest, given that my last answer was a failure I’ve realised that he probably doesn’t expect the right answers.

“Well that’s how you predict the future.” Gabe says matter-of-factly. "If you know how one thing affects another then you could predict the future. So for instance, if I wanted to make you duck, all I‘d have to is throw a rock at you."

"That’s all well and good for rocks, but you'd have to be really smart… no so much smart as… as all-knowing... and if you knew what was going to happen then why would you bother to tell people in those stupid cryptic clues?"

"Well that's the second part. What if you could predict the future? If you could see how one event would trigger another, what would you do if you found out there was going to be a murder?”

"You'd stop it.", I reply instinctively and look down at the Haunter whose gaze is terrifying. "Is that what the prophecy guys are doing then... stopping murders?"

"You're assuming that the prophecy makers want to stop murders. These... people. They have a warped view of right and wrong. They’re neither good nor evil. They just exist and they steer the course of the future and that's who we're really fighting, Jem. Oris is just a pawn to them. So there, you wanted an answer. You got one."

Like I said: Prophecies just raise more questions than answers. I kind of get Gabe's explanation.

"So they're just giving misleading clues to make us do what they want?"

"Basically."

"So what if we just ignored the prophecy, then?"

"That's the point. They can predict how you'd react so the fact that you'd ignore it would have been predicted; it’s all part of their plan. It’s impossible to counter them."

"So what if we found the prophecy guys and stopped them doing it?"

"First of all, do you not think they might see that coming, given that they can predict every event? And second, they aren't even here. They exist in another world.”

"What like a different planet?"

"Not a planet, Jem, it's hard to explain. It's just a void. Emptiness. A place where you or me couldn't possibly exist."

"I don't follow." I reply.

"I wouldn't expect you to. It's complicated magickal theory and most of it is impossible to prove."

"So what do the prophecy guys look like? They‘re faeries, right? They‘re the ones that write the fairytales"

"Exactly right."

"You’re serious, then… Faeries? The little guys with wings?"

"Yes. That’s how the prophecies got the name 'Fairytale'."

"So let’s get back on track. I thought fairytales were told to different people. The only part we know is the one where Ivy dies. Isn't there like ten other parts out there telling different people what happens?"

"There might be that many. But by the time we found them, it'd be too late. The problem with most cultures is they take the prophecies too seriously. I mean look at Ivy. A scrap of paper shows up saying she'll fight the vampyre and her village spends a fortune teaching her how to use a whip. Most humans think that the world will end if we don't fulfil a prophecy. It just makes my job harder."

"And what is your job?" I ask.

"To kill the faeries. To stop them. To end the mockery of an existence that the world has been subjected to."

"Why? So what if we're being made to do everything we do. As long as we choose what we do, it shouldn't matter."

"You would think that, but it isn't for the best. Wars are getting bloodier. There's more suffering in the world now than there was two-thousand years ago. It gets worse every time."

"What gets worse?"

"What else? The consequences of war," he concludes with a smile somewhere between superiority and pained honesty.

He rises quickly and leaves me on my own. He's certainly given me a lot to think about; prophecies and faeries and wars. It leaves me feeling a little pointless though. Can one person really cause an entire war? I mean even if Oris is trying to raise some kind of vampyre army it would take months. And if he is raising some great force is a magick bear, a twelve-year-old girl and myself going to provide the required resistance? I don't think so. If Gabe tried to raise his own army, if he recruited… even that village, maybe he could stop Oris.

I find myself thinking with two minds. One part of me is thinking about how I can stop Oris and the other doesn’t believe it’s as simple as him being some evil vampyre. Both minds can operate at the same time, they exchange ideas, but both standpoints are firm and unchanging. One mind knows he must be stopped and the other knows his reasons are good and true.

Without warning, Gabe swoops down towards me again.

"So, what do you think?" he asks.

I'm a little taken aback, to be honest. I don't even know what he's asking me, but the fact that he'd ask me my opinion of anything is a little flattering… and a little worrying.

"What do I think about what?" I reply.

"This. Everything. Now that you know everything do you think what we're doing is pointless?"

"No. Not really."

"You understand that we're only here because the faeries want us here? We're only heading up this mountain to meet Oris because the faeries aligned it so."

"I don't believe that. Even if they are all knowing, it doesn't make them all-powerful. I think that the only way your going to beat them is by trying. Some things are impossible. No amount of cause and effect could make me turn into a tree right now could it? So even if us going here does help Oris, there’s got to be a way to stop him.”

"Your age belies your wisdom, Jem, but what you say relies entirely on hope. Angels don't believe in hope, we don't feel it."

"So what's keeping you going, then?" I ask in interest.

"That too is long story,” he says.

I understand that no amount of persuasion will make him divulge that story and I change the subject, asking, out of earshot of Ivy, how much support he would be able to provide if Oris becomes violent at the top of the mountain.

Apparently, angels don't fight. He can try, but he probably would be less use than me. I know how to use a sword and a bow, but I’m not exactly a white knight when it comes to battle and since Oris taught me everything I know, I‘m not going to be able to surprise him.

The only talent that Gabe possesses is in his wings. He can fly and he can pass through solid objects. I spend the next hour or so tossing rocks through his wings. It's strangely therapeutic to see it melt into the left wing and re-appear out of the right as well as challenging to catch it. Naturally, as soon as Ivy catches sight of the game, she wants a turn and at that moment Gabe chooses to fly upwards and away from her.

Ivy's talents are less magickal. She can use a whip and that’s about it. When I first saw the tiny green vine hanging from her waist I thought she had a better chance boring someone to death with her whip stories than she did actually injuring them with the shrivelled rope, but she's actually pretty talented with it. Her reflexes are amazing. Walking ahead of me, I can throw a rock at her and she can send it back my way with just a flick of the wrist. It's as automatic as little Oflor's speech problem.

He's pretty powerful as well. He uses magick. It's real magick as well, not sleight of hand or tricks, but just pure unnatural magick. It turns out that he was responsible for sending the Marsh-Golem. He did it to weaken Oris and make it easier for Ivy to kill him. I was outraged at first - it did nearly kill me - but he apologised profusely and seemed genuine. He himself seems to feel guilty about the whole thing. After all he created the Golem to protect Ivy and if anything, it may have led to Oris’ change and Ivy’s resultant battle.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not impressed by Oflor. He can do so much… summon infernos, gales, destroy land, make land... all this power in the body of an animate teddy bear: it's surreal. Our problem of course is that he used so much raw power to create the Marsh-Golem that he’s not running at full strength. That said, he's more powerful than any human mage could ever hope to be.

Apparantly humans are too full of water to use magick properly, so even our best mage's need to form in groups to cast proper spells. Our problem is that as we get closer to the summit, Oflor’s powers will weaken further since the snow gets deeper and deeper the higher we rise.

I think Oflor's quite interesting too. He knows so much about magick and history… if it wasn't for the whole rhyme thing, I think I'd talk to him more.

Gabe though, he's quite the mystery. Ever since our last conversation, I've been trying to invent some plausible past for him. He's old, I know that, but I don't get why he's so hell-bent on stopping these faeries if he doesn't think it's possible. I've sort of given up on him to be honest.

He's been acting so broody since he returned from that village. I keep trying to imagine what happened there. He said that Oris got the sword, but that he didn't turn Blaze. I don't know how he knows that. Maybe there's some sort of vampyre test. I keep feeling as though he's keeping more from me. I'm honoured to know more than anyone else does, but I'm also a little scared. It's big information and he must be pretty desperate to trust it all to a seventeen-year-old boy. Maybe he's just starting to feel isolated and needs to talk.

We continue onwards. The climb is getting tougher the higher we get and the patches of snow get bigger and bigger the higher we rise. We mostly walk in silence, and I've heard the thump of my trainers on hard dirt slowly morph into an ominous creak and crunch as the snow gets deeper and deeper.

Ivy seems to be comfortable in almost any environment. She’s started climbing up the rockiest paths possible and while Oflor tries his best to stop her, she doesn’t seem to see him as an authoritarian figure. In fact, it seems that everyone looks to me to keep people in check. Obviously, Oflor is no hassle, but with Gabe’s constant unfriendliness and Ivy’s seemingly relentless desire to kill herself, everyone looks to me to keep everything under control.

I thought it would be nice to have so much control. The past three years have been totally out of my power. I always felt as though I was hiding from something that would pounce upon me the moment I let my guard down. So I kept out of society, living with Oris who, though being older than me and almost as guarded as Gabe, seemed friendly. We had a lot in common. I knew he’d been living in solitude for a long while before he met me, though I now know it was a lot longer than I thought. But anyway, I thought who better to learn the art of loneliness from than a seasoned pro.

I realize now that we weren’t technically living in solitude since we had contact with each other. Oris seemed to lighten up upon living with me. I know I have no frame of reference for that judgment, but when I first met him on that rainy night he seemed so tense and mixed up. Maybe I caught him (or rather he caught me) on a bad night, but anyway he seemed happier once I told him I was staying.

I’m glad I stayed. After spending over a year on the move, constantly avoiding my pursuers, random animal attacks and the elements themselves, I don’t think I could have gone on any further. I never understood Oris’ reasons for keeping me there, or for training me to hunt and defend myself, but I was glad for his company and his help. Even if I’m not a great fighter, I can defend myself and that (according to Oris) is the most important thing in battle.

The good thing about Ivy is that she is a skilled fighter. It's only natural that we get attacked when taking a rural and seldom travelled route such as the mountain trail. Attacks are all too common and Ivy has brought down every creature that's stood in our path.

Obviously, they're not all horribly ferocious and they require strength and offence as opposed to any real skill, but the way she moves from point to point swinging her barb around with pinpoint precision. It's almost scary. I've stayed well out of the way of any fights - not because I’m scared... even though I am, but because Ivy tells me to. She tells everyone to keep back and then performs her surreal acrobatics around the miscellaneous creature, gently and brutally piercing it as it gathers anger and loses blood, finally wheezing and collapsing onto the ever-deepening snow.

Even although she forbid us from helping when the creature’s attack, it’s pretty obvious to everyone but her that Oflor is helping. He waves his hands about and effectively drains the creature of it’s energy or confuses it’s senses. I’m worried about that. Surely it’s better for Ivy to fight on her own given what we’re approaching, but I don’t think it’s in Oflor’s nature to just watch. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the further up the mountain we get the deeper the snow gets and the weaker Oflor’s magick becomes; so Ivy is gradually being broken into fighting on her own.

There have been some major attacks that I had to get involved in, but even then, my participation was more oriented around protecting myself and didn't involve any actual combat. My only recent success was killing a wolf. It was half-accidental, to be honest. Gabe was trying to protect me with his wings and lost track of where I was. I fell through right in front the creature. It wasn't that scary looking from far away, but when you’re on the ground and everyone else is to busy to see it bearing down on you, it’s scary enough.

Oris taught me to avoid these things - Not to kill them. Every move I have is directed at solely getting away from them, so I was quite proud when I killed it.Its yellow saliva was dripping onto snow as white as its teeth and it prowled with its crimson eyes fixed on my head. It all happened so quickly, I pulled my hunting knife out from my pocket and drove it into the things head. It died instantly. I admit it's not as climactic or entertaining as Ivy's one-girl-army exploits, but still a milestone in my hopefully short career in combat.

The other problem with me and fighting is that all I have is my stupid hunting knife. Gabe doesn't need a weapon, Oflor’s got his magick, and Ivy's got her seemingly endless supply of whips. All I've got is this knife. The only reason I even had it was because I was peeling an apple before I left the house with Oris. I've had next to no training in offensive fighting. Everything I do know is learned either on my perilous journey three years ago or from watching Oris.

I can't be that bad at fighting anyway, because Ivy was openly impressed with my Marsh-Golem story. I may have given the slight impression that using its own claws to destroy it was planned, but the way I see it, I did manage to kill it and how it was done isn't really the issue.

I suppose that this all just training for when we get to the top and meet Oris. I know I don't intend to fight him, but there's still a part of me that knows it’s a possibility. He might have lost his mind entirely. He might leap for me in a fit of rage and madness. I don't think I could beat him, but I'd prefer my reactions were at least as half as sharp as the blade I'll need to avoid.

I doubt that Oris will fight though. He's amazing, but he's not godly. I know he can beat Ivy, and he can definitely beat me, but I suppose the beauty of having Gabe with us is that he can't be harmed by the sword. It'll just pass through his wings. Oflor is a powerhouse of magick. He could probably set Oris on fire with a thought. So all in all, legendary blade or no legendary blade, Oris is outnumbered and he's not stupid enough to take us all on. Gabe thinks I underestimate both the sword and the vampyre as a species.

I know the plan is to kill Oris, and I think I've come to terms with it. I think that if it comes to it, I'll be able to go along with it even though I won't be able to kill him personally. My thoughts have been running the same track for the past hour. I imagine a worst-case scenario in vivid detail, and then poke holes in it to let myself know how unlikely it is. Each time I do this, the worst-case scenario becomes a little clearer and a little more realistic each time, making it harder to disbelieve.

"Jem, we're getting close to the summit,” Gabe says, “Can I talk to you?”

Gabe has become a lot nicer. No... nice isn't the word. I think the word I’m looking for is a cross between grim and tolerant. It's like he's accepted some horrible fate.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I need to know everything about him," Gabe says blandly.

"Everything?” I reply. What can I say? “I don't know that much about him."

"You lived with him for three years, Jem."

"But we didn't talk about stuff like that. We didn't talk about..." My voice drops for a moment and I barely whisper "the past."

"Well tell me what happened to him. You said he was normal. Surely he must have acted odd at times. Was there nothing that raised your suspicions? Nothing weird? Nothing out of place?"

"Well, we had a pretty weird living arrangement, anyway."

"You need to help me here, Jem. I know it's hard, but the more we know, the easier it'll be to stop this. You know what's at stake. Please."

"He had a weird thing in his study.", I say and enjoy a brief silence as Gabe waits for me to elaborate. “It was like… it looked like a microscope but it had - where the telescope-ish bit would be - it had this big, thick needle. Then where the- well whatever you were looking at in a microscope would go it has this short stumpy needle and-“ Gabe’s face dissolves into an expression of confusion. “What?” I ask him.

“Do you know what this device was for?”

“No…” I hesitate for a moment. “But it was covered in blood - well the needles were - and it had Darklandish writings on it.” Gabe’s eyes widen at the mere mention of the Darklands.

“Could you read it?” he asks.

“Could I read an ancient language from a mythical part of the world? No, Gabe, I couldn’t. I only did a little Darklandish in school and I only got maybe a ten second look at the thing. The only thing I could read off of it was the phrase ‘Hunt Alone’ and that might not even be right.”

“Sorry, but this could be really helpful. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“There isn’t. I tried to find out about it. I hired a historian to investigate the device and even he came up empty handed.”

“Did you ever see Oris use the device?”

“No, he kept it locked in his study.”

“It’s likely the device was what enabled him to avoid detection for so long. It may have been able to supply him with blood so that he didn’t have to kill others.”

“Why the spikes though? Wouldn’t a cup have been better?”, I offer and get only a skeptical look back.

“Conjuring liquids as complex as blood is no easy feat. Usually some kind of payment, a ‘tribute’, is required.”

“So you think Oris was stabbing himself every week, to make home-brew blood?” I ask.

“Essentially yes. It would have to be every week or he would die of the thirst.”

“Um… he spent the night in his study once a week.” I say. I feel a bit numb now. As each puzzle piece falls into place I wonder what other secrets Oris could have kept from me.

“It must have taken considerable will-power, though, to feed only from the device, to suppress years of instinct. He could have killed you at any moment.”, Gabe muses and I feel as though I’m no longer part of the conversation.

“None of this helps, does it?” I say.

“It doesn’t do any harm to know his past. What happened to make him change? The Marsh-Golem?”

“I think so. We killed it and then he started talking crazy. Like he was losing control or something. Would that make sense?”

“Oflor said it wouldn’t. But I don’t know enough to make a sound judgement. From what you’ve said, it sounds just like he genuinely changed into a vampyre, but that would mean someone turned him over a week ago. Unless that machine is what turned him- Uh, sorry Jem… I guess I need to think about this. We'll be at the top in about an hour. Oris is still there."

I knew he'd be there. We've been following Oflor like a sniffer dog and he's led us up this mountain, never erring, never for a moment even doubting his path. I thought he was using some sort of sixth sense, but he says that Oris' trail can be seen on the ground, he says it's just a thick red line, showing the path Oris has walked.

He says he can see the intent of all people. My line is grey, a little weird I know, but he says that indicates mixed emotions. Ivy's is red like Oris', though hers is a younger shade of red - I'm not sure whether he meant younger or whether he just used that word because he had to rhyme with hunger. Gabe's intent, he says, changes erratically and is the thickest he's ever seen: that means he really is as old as he says he is. I asked Oflor about his own line, but he didn't really want to talk about it for some reason.

Maybe he can't see his own line, or maybe he doesn't have one. I feel sorry for him. It's like he died a long time ago and is now wandering around as a ghost. I suppose it’s hard for him. He could have lived a normal life but instead he's turned into a verse speaking cuddly toy and is doomed to live forever.

It's strange how I'm able to describe eternal life as 'doom'. In Oflor's case, I really can see it, though. It isn't a real life. It's just pointless. No one will take him seriously for a start, there's no one he can be close to, everyone he knows will die before him. I suppose that's how Oris felt as well. He must have looked into my eyes and saw the true extent of his immortality. Maybe it's the same for Oflor as well.

Ever since he admitted to creating the Golem, I’ve found myself questioning Oflor’s motives. It appears that Gabe hasn’t considered the possibility that Oflor made Oris change on purpose. I find it a remarkable coincidence that Oris changed immediately upon the monster’s death. Perhaps whatever evil Oflor placed in the monster, jumped into Oris to save itself? Perhaps Oflor has some kind of agenda?

It seems a brutal suggestion, considering how innocent Oflor appears to be, but in all honesty, it’s his innocence the disturbs me. He claims that he’s devoted his many years to fighting the forces of evil and that he's saved the world from relative doom many times. He's like a model of heroism and adversity. Everyone likes him. Heck, even I do! I suppose I’m just naturally suspicious, but he seems like such a straight arrow and I don't think it's possible for someone with so much power to be good. He even seems sorry about what's happened to Oris. Is it normal to empathise with your enemy?

I've kept all this to myself, of course. The main reason I've not breached the subject of Oflor's loyalty is that I don't want to upset him. I do like him and it's likely frustration on my part that's making me suspicious. Secondly he's done nothing to harm me. When he found out I was involved in the fight with the Golem he was genuinely sorry. And thirdly... Well... if he is the evil mastermind I've been considering, the last thing I want to do is get on his bad side. Anyway, I can appreciate his position. He wants to save the world and to do that he has to stop Oris in whatever way he can.

"Gabe.", I say.

"Yes?"

"How... how do you kill a vampyre?"

"The same way you kill a human,” he replies, as emotionless as ever.

"I thought that you had to put a stake through the heart."

"That would kill most things. Vampyre aren't particularly special. They're just like humans, except they're stronger. They're already dead in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"Vampyre feed on humans. They're dependant on them. If they go without, they'd die in a week. They steal the life force of others and use it to hold themselves back from the beyond. In that way, they're already dead."

Sometimes I feel that I'm not old enough to have conversations with Gabe. He always speaks about deep issues. I sometimes feel myself taking his metaphors as literal thinking.

"So he's been dead all this time?"

"No he's alive. His heart beats, neurons fire, in every biological way he is alive, but it's more of an existential thing. He's always seven days away from death. If he doesn't drink blood at least once every seven days, he'll die and that’s why he's as good as dead, that's why vampyre are called the living dead."

This doesn't really make sense to me and I notice that Gabe steered away from my original question.

"So how do you kill a vampyre?" I ask again.

"I already told you, the same way you-"

"Yeah, I know the same way you kill a human, how are... how are we going to kill Oris." Gabe raises his eyebrows at me, "... if he doesn't agree with us,” I amend.

"We'll do whatever we can," Gabe replies. "We'll take every shot possible. He must have some sort of trick up his sleeve. There's no way he'd try and take us all on even if he does have that sword."

"How does he know who's coming?"

"I don't know, but the fact he's waiting up there must mean he's expecting us."

"Maybe he's waiting for someone else."

"Well if he is, he's been stood up. I've flown round this damn mountain plenty of times and there's no-one else on their way up."

Ivy and Oflor are in some kind of conversation and I speak in a hushed voice to Gabe.

"What if he kills Ivy? I mean angels can't be killed, Oflor says he's near invincible too and for some reason I don't think Oris will kill me, but Ivy… he nearly got her the last time. Is she really safe?"

"I agree with you Jem, but there's not much we can do… I'll… try to protect her, but my main concern is you. You're not trained for all this."

"I'm good at protecting myself. Trust me." The Haunter rests on my arm and its ears twitch at this statement. Its gaze never leaves me, but I get an impression of surprise from it.

Gabe sighs and focuses as though debating with himself. Eventually he speaks. “The truth is, Jem… if Oris does kill Ivy… he might be doing us all a favour.”

At first I think he’s joking… it’s no secret that he finds Ivy annoying, but then I see his eyes. There’s coldness in them. A compassionate part of him that tells me he wishes it could be any other way. Nonetheless, I refuse to accept it.

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not”, he replies. His eyes drift over to Ivy who is still talking (no doubt about whips) with Oflor. “Tell me how you found Ivy”, he says.

“I” - suddenly flashbacks pound through my mind “get the hell away from me!” and I close my eyes trying to block them out. Fingers melt into talons in my minds eye. Closing my eyes only serves to intensify the images and then flames, curling flesh and the irrepressible taste of smoke and tears.

“Jem? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine”, I reply, knowing fine well I don’t look it. “I found her in a clearing, she was unconscious but he hadn’t hurt her.”

“That’s what I was worried about, Jem. Why would he leave her unharmed?”

“I told you that-”

“Jem, you know what he became. Now my deepest concern is that Oris turned her.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I know you don’t like any of this.” His voice has become strict. “I know you can’t imagine this angelic friend of yours doing these horrible things, but if he hasn‘t already done them, he will.”

“She doesn't have any... like bite marks or anything, though,” I reason.

“It doesn’t matter. If she was truly turned - bite marks, wounds - these things heal… they disappear.”

“That doesn’t mean she definitely is.”

“Oris should have turned Blaze and he didn’t, Jem. The only explanation I can think of is that he turned either you or Ivy.”

"He didn't turn me. As soon as he changed he just ran for it."

"...And that leaves Ivy.", Gabe replies.

“Shouldn’t we tell Ivy? She has a right to know, doesn’t she?”

“What we should really do is kill her,” Gabe says in far to even a voice.

“Kill her?” I hiss. “We can’t do that! You don’t even know for sure.”

“Which is exactly why we can’t… An innocent life on my hands is far more damaging than it is on any others. I can’t kill her. The bear certainly won’t. Would you, Jem?” Gabe asks. His eyes betray no emotion.

“Hell, no,” I reply quickly, backing off from him at the very idea.

“Exactly… we are stuck. Despite the fact that she may very well be the key to what we are trying to stop, we are – each of us for his own reasons – unable to do what must be done. The beautiful and tragic work of the faeries.”

“What if we did tell her what we think… I mean she hates vampyre. I think she might agree to be, not killed, but maybe restrained or something.”

“We can’t risk telling her. If she found out, she could lose it. She might give up or even join Oris.”

“What!?”

“It’s happened before. Some people... They know what’s coming so they just embrace it a little early. People just accept defeat.”

“Sounds familiar,” I say to him.

He gives me a scowl. “We’ll worry about Ivy once we’ve survived this.” he nods towards the peak of the mountain.

“You still don’t think it can be done?”

“I’m still trying. Didn’t you say that’s all that matters?” Gabe says through narrowed eyes.

“I suppose I did.” I reply.

"I know your history Jem,” Gabe says casually. I tense up, wondering how much he knows. "Well I know some of it." I ease up a little.

"What... do you know?"

"Just that you’re from Portajaune, really. But getting from there to here single-handedly must have tapped into some serious survival instinct, so I guess you can take care of yourself."

"How do you know where I'm from?"

"Oflor told me. I believe his exact words were:

His history is flavoured with,
dark and dreary tones.
He was born to Portajaune,
but calls this place his home.

His journey has been tiresome,
and it took him quite a while.
He picked up many skills and traits,
which make him versatile.”

I don't really like the tone in Gabe's voice; he makes it sound as though Oflor's just there to entertain him; as though we're all just expendable characters to him.

"I‘m glad you took the time to memorise it.", I say not bothering to mask the irritation in my voice.

"Don’t get me wrong, Jem. I think your all great", he casts a reluctant look at Ivy, "but you know everything, now. I don't think this mission will succeed, I'm only really going along with this because I'll hate myself if I don't."

"Well maybe you should change your attitude a bit. Your not gonna be much help if you think we're all going to die. And I don't think you have told me everything. I don't think it' as simple as rising some vampyre army."

"You’re both right and wrong. He is raising a vampyre army. That's all he wants to do. I might have skimmed over a few details earlier though."

"Skimmed? Skimmed over the explanation for why you’re so sure we'll fail?"

"You‘d feel the same if you‘d seen this all before."

"What do you mean?" I feel as though he’s being purposefully cryptic.

"This isn't the first time it's all happened. In the grand scheme, it's just a cycle. Humans are enslaved by vampyre, vampyre are wiped out by humans the few remaining go into hiding and eventually raise an army and enslave humans all over again."

"What the hell!?" I ask in disbelief.

"It's a cycle, Jem. We're all just going round in circles. In two hundred and forty years, the humans will have risen over the vampyre. It's the way the faeries arrange it. It's the way they... wanted it." I notice a hint of despair in Gabe's voice. "I'm sorry Jem, but when you've watched your last ditch efforts at stopping a war be killed five times already, you might feel the way I feel. You might feel there's no way of stopping someone who dances you and everyone else around like a marionette in some sadistic puppet show."

"So this has all happened before?" I ask, demanding he affirm his claims.

"Not exactly, but loosely the same events transpire. Last time it wasn’t just one vampyre, a few had survived. They met up and after uniting, began trying to bring the vampyre back. There were historians who knew vampyre had survived and had dedicated generations into finding them. I wanted to help them, so I led them to the vampyre and they were all turned. I lost."

"You lost? Gabe, this changes everything,” I hiss. I don’t think he has turned Ivy, yet... but if we go up there… he will. I get this faerie thing now and if we go up there, we'll be doing exactly what they want us to."

"Jem... we're always doing what they want us to. All we can do is take the best course of action and hope they have a change of heart."

"Which will never happen?" I look at Gabe with what I imagine is desperation.

"It's not likely,” he replies, solemnly.

"What if we flip a coin? To decide, I mean." I suggest, expecting it to be rebuffed instantly.

"They have full control. The fact that you’d decide to flip a coin, your subconscious awareness of the sides, the wind variation, air pressure for where you throw it and the choices you would assign to each side. Perhaps now you could understand what complete control really is. They could make a dice roll six until eternity. A simple task to them,” Gabe says tenderly.

"What about the other four times? What happened there?"

"More of the same really. The first time I wasn't even ready. Didn't see it coming till it was too late. The second time, though... I prepared for it. I was aware of everything going on in that part of the world. It still happened. No one even tried to oppose the vampyre this time. I couldn't find them anywhere. The angels were willing to kill the vampyre - and as a rule, we don't kill. They remained untraceable, though. By the time we found one vampyre there were already hundreds. Too late again. That's when I was exiled."

"Exiled?"

"Banned me from any comm-"

"I know what exiled means," I reply testily, "Why did they exile you? Why did they blame you?"

"It's not important. What matters is that they've resigned themselves to this fate. I've been fighting the last thousand years alone and I haven't succeeded in any way whatsoever. That's why I don't think it's possible. I've done what the other angels have done. I've just accepted fate."

"No you haven't. Your here and they're... not. That‘s what matters."

"They're here as well."

"Here… right now?"

"The angels. Our home is in the sky, it goes wherever it needs to be. They're here at the side of the mountain, watching us."

"Well that's re-assuring.", I reply, with some hope in my voice.

"Is it? They would interfere if they thought we stood a chance. They're here to see my show, Jem. They know we fight a losing battle. I'm sure they'll enjoy this episode even more than the others."

"You make them sound so heartless. Can't we ask them for help?"

"They'd only turn us away, Jem. Let’s just get this over with. We're nearly there now. You might want to get that knife out. I think you'll need it. Call the others and explain everything to them... Remember, Jem. The great moments in history are not the wars themselves, but the events which spark them... and those which prevent them. This is one of those moments and... and I need to be alone."

Gabe gently lifts himself into the air and glides on ahead. I wait on Oflor who is listening intently on Ivy. It's hard to believe I'm looking at what could be a vampyre. She's talking about (surprise, surprise) whips, whipping and all things whip related, but in a couple of days what will she be talking about? Deaths? An unsatiable hunger? Will she be conspiring with Oris? Or trying to find strong victims? Both her and Oflor stop walking and stare at me.

"What is it?" Ivy asks.

I pause for a moment. "Oris is at the top," I say, holding back a sigh.

"Good", she replies.

"It's not that simple; Gabe thinks we might be walking into some kind of trap."

"A trap? I'll spot it. Don’t worry. I spent a whole month learning about all kinds of traps."

Oflor looks upwards at us like some curious child.

"It's not like that. We think he's got some extra weapon up his sleeve, so we need to be prepared for this. I think we should plan how we're going to do this."

"Why bother?” Ivy asks. “If he has got some extra weapon then we'll have to change our attack pattern anyway. So we're as well going in and getting it over with.” She pauses for a moment and looks up to the sky. “I messed up last time, there was too much pressure, but I'll get him this time, you can all just watch."

It annoys me that some of this makes sense. Sure, she'll probably not be able to beat Oris herself, but she has a point about us having no choice but to be unprepared, even if it was unintentional.

Oflor barely speaks at all now and Gabe is acting weirder and weirder as time goes by. The only person who seems at all happy about this is Ivy, who only seems to be fuelled by her very disturbing bloodlust.

I feel we're walking into much more than a fight. Oflor doesn’t believe that Oris would wait at the top of the mountain to fight us at all. He thinks a man would have to be crazy to wait for this fight, but as we finally reach the summit, a flat, almost circular plain, as we see Oris sitting patiently and smiling. Only Oflor can see the true power of the sword Oris holds and only two words escape the teddy’s mouth.

“Holy, moly.”