England

Elsie Manning stood at the gate entrance to the garden, wondering why she was there. Draped in a windbreaker, gray sweat pants and a comfortable pair of sneakers, she remained frozen, looking into the fog covered fields of flowers and arrangements, actually scared to move any further.

She finally placed one foot ahead of another, slowly strolling down the stone layered path as her head roamed from one end of the garden to the other. There was nothing but silence and that was what bothered her. There should have been something to listen too; whether it was the rattle of the crickets or the shrieks of the neighboring birds, something should have been heard. She could see the morning breeze sway the branches of the saplings that lined the stone cut walkway but the gush of air did not strike her. Instead, it avoided her with purpose, afraid to touch her gentle soft skin for some reason. The dew clung to the flowers, afraid to release its grasp from the pedal and fall to the soil, hanging on by the smallest particle possible, afraid to let go.

What was wrong she screamed in her head, wanting to know what was happening yet questioning if she really wanted to know the answer. She was confused, scared and unaware all at the same time as she could feel her heart racing faster and harder the deeper she walked into the garden. The fog slowly dispersed, revealing a greenhouse she did not see in the distance, guarded with a stone fountain decorated by a moss covered cherub at its entrance.

She didn’t need any signs or invitations; this was the source of her uneasiness. From the outside, she could see no movement from anyone through the glass walls of the building. She approached the entrance, her sweaty palms twisting the knob of the door to enter. Rows of floral arrangements lined the room as a gentle mist showered the flowers. She walked deeper into the building, looking for something to greet her presence but still nothing.

She gripped tightly onto a table, the strength of her grasp digging into the wooden border. “Show yourself,” she screamed, her desperate plea not to be answered by a voice but by the rattle of the building.

She took a couple steps back, bracing herself for what would come next as her lips softly whispered a barrier spell. She witnessed the window pane walls rattle vigorously until the force of the vibrations forced them to shatter. She waited for the crash of a thousand glass shards upon the ground but instead marveled at how each individual piece of glass floated in the air. The thought was brief as she frantically looked for the source of the eruption, but the firm grip of a hand breaking through her spell and upon her neck signaled that the source had found her.

“You have the scent of the Vishanti upon you,” purred the creature, its charred right hand grasping tightly onto her neck. “Why do you align yourself with a lie?”

“What… the fuck are you talking about?” Screamer gasped, her face reddening as her feet dangled aimlessly in the air.

Another of the scorched creatures approached, diverting the tearful eyes of Elsie onto itself as she wrestled for another breathe. She could see the hurt in his eyes. It was immense and was the fuel for not only him, but the other three as well.

Each of the creatures shared the same burnt markings as their leader. Each of them a charred black with chunks of skin flaking off in giant pieces. Boils seem to pop randomly, the ooze of their body masking the smell they already carried.

“There are lines in war that are never meant to be crossed. Unwritten rules that are never meant to be broken. This is what happens when those rules are broken,” The leader said as it shoved a deeply burnt fist close to her face.

“I…have never done… anything to you,” Elsie cried.

“You didn’t have too,” the leader replied. “They have chosen your fate for you.”

SNAP

The sound of Elsie’s neck breaking in two rang out through the building, her limp body striking the stone floor near the feet of the creature which snapped her neck. With drool seeping from the corner of her mouth, her vision began to blacken as her head fell helplessly outward toward the garden. In her dying moments she noticed the dew finally let go of the flower as it fell onto the ground. She then realized she was mistaken. The dew did not cling to the pedal out of fear. It embraced the flower with hope, finally letting go as it realized that hope had died much like she had.

Brooklyn, New York

The noise sounded like a pack of lions preparing for the kill. Its never ending roar loud enough for Ian to bat an eye, stretching with an extended yawn as his mouth smacked with distain with the aftertaste of last night’s midnight dinner. Ian was always told to stay away from fried foods late at night but there were some things he didn’t listen too. The grumbling of his belly was not one of them.

Still dressed in patterned pajamas, he arose to slip into a pair of sandals, his feet shuffling with a great deal of effort across his wooden floor as he made his way toward the kitchen. With a flick of a switch, the drips of coffee began as he sliced a roll and buttered it with eyes still barely opened. He hated waking up. He always had. Even though his day usually started when most people were ending their work day, Ian had always figured that they were the odd ones for waking up with the dawn. To him, he wasn’t a late sleeper; it was just that everyone else were early risers.

Propping himself on the kitchen table, he inhaled the aroma of the brew. It was part of the daily routine he had to endure in order to function for the rest of the evening. His eyes began to widen more, finally focusing from his morning daze as the roar from his belly continued. He walked toward his refrigerator, pulling the door open as the chill smacked him instantly as he looked for some cream. Ian then paused as if he was instructed too, shutting the refrigerator door as he looked carefully around him.

There was an odd shudder of light that manifested from underneath the extra room door down the hall. It pulsed like a heart beat as Ian’s could easily feel his as he proceeded to investigate. He reached the extra room, slowly turning the knob as he crept to examine the cause of his apprehensions. The room remained empty, outside of a few boxes he still had not gotten around to unpack.

Ian then noticed the window blind flutter slightly, a cold draft easily felt from the perimeter of the window causing the shiver. He yanked on the blind, the mechanism pulling in the extended material as designed as numerous peering eyes greeted the spell caster. Dozens upon dozens of birds had perched themselves on neighboring trees and window sills, all looking at Ian’s one window, waiting to see what he would do next. A loud howl could be heard as the strength of the city winds began to pick up, each bird remaining where they were positioned just looking at Ian. A few leaves rumbled around Ian’s window until a single pamphlet blew against the glass, Ian’s attention instantly noticing its origin from the New York Subway Terminal. Ian knew this wasn’t coincidence. Something was brewing other then his coffee and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

Queens, New York

When Andrew Kale moved away from sunny Florida, he had a lot of things he wanted to accomplish. Fixing the leak that had managed to seep from his rusty kitchen pipes onto his overpriced apartment floor was not one of them. He was no plumber but money was tight and his landlord had not addressed the situation.

As he lay in the spreading puddle floor of his apartment, he knew things like this would arise. No matter what difficulties he would face, he knew they would be nothing compared to the life he had just left. If he had to define his life, the word crazy would sum in all up. He was the brother of a Zhered-Na sorceress, cousin of two current Ghost Riders and the next door neighbor of the Man-Thing. No matter how hard he tried to live his life, craziness had always found a way to seep into it.

Andrew looked at his repair work carefully, trying to listen for any drips while feeling for any leaks upon the curvature of the sink’s metal pipes. A sense of relief consumed his body as he wiped the numerous beads of sweat which had appeared on his forehead. He believed he was done, rising from underneath the sink to twist the knob of his faucet only to be greeted with more water being sprayed around his kitchen.

“Damn it…” he shouted as an unexpected knock prevented him from going into a lengthy expletive tirade. Wringing out his soaked shirt while mumbling a few more unpleasantries, Andrew stomped toward the door, opening his door angrily only to be taken back from the visitor.

“Jennifer...”

“…Andrew” she said with a devilish grin, questioning how her brother got so drenched in water. “This a bad time or are you going to let me in?”

“Of course,” he replied, still shock by her presence as he gestured her into the apartment. “Shouldn’t you be in college?”

“I took the semester off,” she replied while surveying her brother’s apartment as she entered. There wasn’t much to the room, but she didn’t expect anything extravagant upon her visit; he had only been in New York for a couple of weeks. He needed more time to settle down in the city before bothering with furnishings; the numerous unpacked boxes littered across his room supporting her theory. “How are things treating you?”

“It could be better but they are getting there. I have an interview with the university tomorrow about a possible opening in their library.”

“That’s great. Which school? Empire State?”

“St. John’s. It’s closer.”

“Can’t fault anyone with wanting to work close to home.”

“It wasn’t the main reason but it would prove convenient,” he replied, questioning his sister’s motives. “What brings you here from the Everglades, Jen?”

“I just wanted to see how my brother was doing and check up on a few friends in the city. Maybe get a visual of my brother’s reasoning for moving to the northeast.”

“I thought it was time to do something by myself. Get away from all the craziness happening down there.”

“Right…You wanted to get away from the craziness of Florida so you moved into a city which is the Mecca of super heroes. You do know Spiderman and the Hulk reside here, right?”

“The Hulk actually doesn’t stay in New York. He is very mobile from what I read.”

“I know a person in Greenwich Village that can tell you otherwise. He’s probably hunkering down in his sanctum as we speak.”

“That’s not the point, Jen.”

“Then what is?”

Jen’s question left the two siblings staring silently for a few odd seconds until the ring of Andrew’s phone broke the awkwardness. He picked up the receiver, thankful that he wasn’t going into details of his situation with his sister at the moment but knowing eventually he would have too. Exhaling a sigh of relief, he answered the phone call.

“Hello….” He answered, his eyes still looking at his sister as he extended the receiver toward his sister. “It’s for you.”

“Me?” She said curiously. “No one knows I’m here.”

“You’re a high level sorceress. Believe me, people know where you are at all times.”

Mulling the validity of the statement, Jen answered the phone. “Hello.”

Jen recognized the voice on the other end instantly. It was Ariann Wright, the teenage girl that was part of the occult warriors known as the Legion of Night. She had spent a brief time with the group, fighting off the demon Aan Taanu before leaving to California and eventually back to Florida. Jen had always thought Ariann was a sweet girl, though she carried a heavy burden at such a young age with her ability to talk to souls and her gift of precognition. Jen tried to listen carefully as Ariann spoke frantically on the other end.

“Arian, slow down. What is wrong? Who is Ian McNee?”

China

“Another star has vanished from the night sky.” Wai Chee exclaimed as he took a sitting position next to an older man, overlooking the night sky above the calm waves of China’s waters.

The older man slowly inhaled the cool night air, enjoying the sensation of his lungs filling with such simple purity only to exhale before answering his long time student. “I am fully aware of it Wai Chee. Many stars will fall as many others will take their place in the coming days. It is the inevitability of life.”

“I fear I am the next to face this adversary,” A saddened Wai Chee responded. “I can feel it come our way.”

“Why do you fear something that is not destined to happen?” The old man posed as he looked at his dejected student.

“Sen-Yu…I do not understand.”

“You are right to sense something coming, but it does not come for you, Wai Chee,” Sen-Yu answered as his gaze returned to the rippling lights reflecting off the darkened waters by the passing boats.

“Then we shall face it together,” Wai Chee responded, curious of his friends calm demeanor.

“No, we will not,” Sen-Yu replied, smiling at the prophecy he was told years before this moment. “You will live to see many dawns and sunsets after this day. You will learn the love of a baby’s cry and the happiness of another’s love returned. It has been foretold by the Ancient One himself.”

A cheerful Sen-Yu looked at his pupil, a smile stretching from ear to ear as his eyes told the happiness he was enduring. “I have lived my life with no regrets. I will face my ending with no remorse. My opponent will not have the satisfaction of taking that from me.”

“But Sen-Ye…”

“…There is no but. Do what you are told,” Sen-Yu barked, knowing it was the only way to get his pupil to leave. “I have humbly served the Ancient One much like you have me. Now it is your time to take my place. You have done so much more then I have when I was your age but you have so much still to go to reach where I am now currently. Now you must go. Do not question your destiny.”

Wai Chee stood, saddened for knowing his friend’s death was imminent. “How do you know this?”

“It is what the Ancient One told me years ago on that day we met. I was not meant to be Sorcerer Supreme but I had another purpose in the grand scheme of things. You are that purpose.”

“I understand,” Wai Chee said, graciously bowing before his friend.

“Wai Chee…” Sen-Yu shouted, instantly gaining the attention of his pupil as he headed off the dock. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

“You have been a better one,” Wai Chee replied as a tear formed in the corner of his eye before teleporting away.

Staten Island, New York

Ian walked through the New York metro turnstile, walking like so many other city residents down the corridor toward the coming subway train. The squeal of the train signaled its stop as the doors opened to let passengers board. Ian followed the rush of people into the compartment as he remained standing, grasping one of the metal bars positioned throughout the train.

He remained silent, analyzing each individual which boarded: the Goth teen clothed in nothing but black with the numerous piercings through her lips, the old lady which tried to refrain from eye contact with anyone in the city as she just finished working a job even though she was pass social security age, to the bald headed tall gentlemen with the one size to small New York Jets tee shirt; its design and faded color scheme which screamed its purchase from the Joe Namath era. For all the people which shared the subway with him, he knew that the silent man seated on the other end of the train was the reason he was there.

Ian guided his way to the other end of the compartment, excusing his self as he bumped into a few annoyed passengers. He managed to find a spot across from the man, his hand grasping another metal bar for support. With a snap of his free arm the boarded passengers began to disappear, blowing away like grains of sand in the wind.

The illusion spell instantly caught the man’s attention, unfazed by the perceived disappearance of the subway passengers. “Who are you and what do you want with me?” He grunted.

Ian smiled instantly by the posed question; thankful he wasn’t hit by a mystical attack. “The first part of that question is easy. My name is Ian McNee. As you can see, I am a dabbler of the mystical arts. The second half of that question I really can’t answer because I really don’t know why I was sent to look for you.”

“Have you come to challenge me?” He asked coldly, as his arms rested crossed on his chest.

“No, no, no! Nothing like that,” Ian replied quickly, waving his hands aimlessly trying not to invoke any unprovoked attacks. “I just followed the signs toward you. Whether that is good or bad, you are the person I have been sent to search for. May I ask who you are exactly, though?”

Disenchanted with the conversation, the man rolled his eyes as his hand combed through his hair, shutting his eyes in thought, wondering if he should answer the question. His eyes opened, looking directly at Ian. “I am Kyllian.”

The name instantly caught the attention of Ian, his eyes widening behind his crimson shades as he marveled at who he stood beside. This was the chosen warrior of the Celtic gods. Indirectly trained by both Vishanti and Darkhold disciples; and he stood just an arm length away.

“I…I had no idea that it would be you that I would be meeting,” stuttered Ian.

“Do you have a plan?”

“What…”

“A plan,” An annoyed Kyllian responded, his irritation easily seen in his slumped posture. “A course of action now that you have actually found me.”

“I hadn’t actually thought of what would happen next after I had found you.”

“Then you are wasting my time,” Kyllian roared as his gaze pierced through Ian.

“But…”

Ian could say nothing more. Kyllian had become disinterested in the conversation due to the vague manner of their meeting. Rising from his seat, he headed toward where the door was located, waiting to exit as Ian let the Images of Ikonn melt away from around them.

The doors slid open with Kyllian saying nothing else as he stepped off the subway. Ian followed closely on the crowded platform, only to react when a single sheet of paper blowing in the gush of air by the departing subway train slowly made its descent toward the ground, only to freeze in place inches from actually striking the deck. The effect was not isolated as the other disembarking passengers movements slowed, remaining as human statues unable to move.

“Oh shit...” Ian uttered as the sudden collision into sturdy body shifted his attention forward toward an annoyed Kyllian.

“What the hell is that smell?” the Kyllian asked, scrunching his nose in visible disgust.

“I think we have other problems to deal with,” Ian replied, casting the Images of Ikonn again, trying to mask their position to whoever had invoked the spell they had witnessed.

With a snarl on the cusp of his lip, Kyllian shot a glare at the aloof Ian, unhappy with what they had walked into. “Are you responsible for this?”

“Me…” Ian painfully denied. “You can’t feel it. This thing is ancient yet new all at the same time. Like someone took my grandmother’s chicken soup recipe and altered it with an ingredient not even imagined yet.”

A loud chuckle could be heard through Images of Ikonn as the source of it revealed itself to the two, walking effortlessly through the spell as the remnants of the illusion washed over his charred body. It looked up, revealing a sinister grin to Ian and Kyllian as the look in its eyes revealed its intentions.

Not wanting to be a helpless lamb to the slaughter, an immense red energy erupted from Kyllian’s body as he prepared for battle. Numerous glyphs appeared through Kyllian’s clothing as if each symbol was alive, they too waiting for the challenge.

“I don’t think its time to go Super Saiyan in these tunnels, Kyllian,” Ian whispered.

“Either fight or get out of the way; just stop your babbling.” Kyllian remarked as his gaze remained fixed on the visitor. The two remained silent and still, each feeling each other’s hairs raise from the concentrated mystical energy in a small area. The air became thick, sparking with vigorous energy as the two waited for the opening salvo.

Ian remained calm, trying to figure an alternate course of action rather than a mystical battle in the subway tunnels of New York. Tilting his head, Ian noticed the stumps which rose from the creatures back, his mind imagining its purpose until filling in the answer. Ian’s jaw dropped at what he believed they were facing, no matter how impossible it could have been.

In a blur, the creature ascended upon them, its movements barely visible to Kyllian and Ian as it quickly positioned itself above the fiery Kyllian. An immense blade appeared from the air itself as it hurled downward on the slow moving Kyllian. The blade rammed down quickly until a blue glow interrupted the attack, repelling the creature into the tunnel walls. Kyllian quickly turned to Ian, noticing the two were in the center of the blue aura as both quickly faded away into the air only to reappear in the center of what appeared to be an apartment.

“I told you not to interfere,” Kyllian snapped as the marked man yanked Ian into the air, his hand balling Ian’s sky blue suit into bunches.

Noticing the markings and designs of the spell slowly fade away, Ian gently raised a finger trying to relay a message. “That spell wasn’t from me. It was Atlantean. I don’t do Atlantean spells.”

“Then who?” Kyllian barked as he released Ian from his clutches, his right arm catching the brunt of the fall. “WHO?”

“That would be me, boys. I would appreciate if you kept your voices down too. I hear the neighbors can be quite ornery, if you know what I mean.”

Both men turned toward the new voice, revealing a tall blonde woman with her arms cocked on her hips with a wide smile welcoming both of them.

“I’m Jen Kale and I just saved your lives.”