Closed In the Pale Moon Light

[Travis "Ephemeric" Harlan]

He had arranged the daggers in the proper formation. Eight of them, one for each point on the compass, inscribed with the alchemic symbol for that direction. Anima had been channeled through the specially prepared knives, forming a barrier, facing inwards. A devil’s trap, painstakingly laid out. Hours of work, finally made ready. He had downed the tincture, the taste as horrible as he expected. There had been pain, probably the hemlock, but he had ignored that. The ritual had to happen. Four hours of painstakingly pronounced chanting, calling, attuning mind and body to the signature, to the true name, of the being that he was calling to him. He had known the risks, made them even greater doing this alone. But he didn’t trust anyone, really, with the knowledge of what he was about to do. Some would see him as a danger, others would attempt to subvert what he had planned, take it for themselves. And Travis personally? He saw this as a last resort. Camp Hades hadn’t made him strong enough. He couldn’t ever be strong enough to avenge his fallen lover. His heart had been torn out, he had died that day, what felt like an eternity ago. And the only way to take back his life? An eye for an eye, till the whole world was blind.


The summoning ritual was nearly complete. Travis could feel the wind moving, stirring within the trap, affecting everything but the chalk dust carefully laid on the ground. “You might as well manifest. You can’t run, and you can’t hide from me, Al’Quahtar.” Travis used his true name, and with those words the Djinn coalesces out of the swirling air, feet barely above the trap, unable to touch it. Appearing as a man with a heavily tanned complexion with dark hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, he scowls viciously, murder on his face. “Your right. I can’t hide, but it’s you who should be running. You think that because you carried me for eight years, you are immune to my wrath? I am limitless, all powerful. I go where I want, and do what I desire. I am FREE.” Blue flame bursts into existence, crawling across the Djinn’s suit. “And you Harlan… you will soon be dead.” Slowly, the Djinn begins to float across the large circle, howling wind accompanying him, yet seeming to not ruffle a single hair or bit of his clothing.


“Not for long. If you were so powerful, you wouldn’t be held by a bit of chalk, and a circle of knives.” With a grin, Travis advances upon the Djinn, aiming to meet it in the middle. Each step, his form begins to change. It begins subtly, a yellowing of his complexion. But moment to moment, step by step, the yellowing turns into a glow, emanating from his skin. Glowing brighter, till the intensity matches, then surpasses, the unnatural blue flame of the Djinn. “No. You are not free, and you never were. You lied to yourself, and now? Now your lies come undone.” Each step planned, rehearsed endlessly, Travis strikes. At the exact middle of the devil’s trap, he reaches out, grabbing for the Djinn. Golden glow swirling with blue flame. Struggling against one another, vying for dominance. The competing lights grow brighter, and brighter still, until it is as though day had broken a second time in this small area, away from everyone and everything. Brighter and brighter still, the two light sources struggle and strive, the lights neither blending nor diminishing, until the light is so bright that only white could have been seen.


And then the light was gone, in a single instant brighter than day became dark. A crater had formed, consuming the devil’s trap, the blades, and another five meters beyond. Smoke billows up from the center of the crater, and as a soft wind disperses it, a man slowly stands erect. Designer clothing burnt and scorched, Tattoos are revealed to cover his torso and arms. Staring at his hands in an almost surprised state of awe, blue flame slowly comes into being. “I… Didn’t actually think that would work.” he says to no one in particular. “And now… now I understand. Why you didn’t run. Why you couldn’t run. You tried. But it wasn’t enough, was it? She couldn’t… wouldn’t… give you what you needed.”


Extinguishing the flame Travis looks up, silhoutted in pale moonlight. Looking up to the skies, tears run down his face, even as his voice is steady.


“YOU took her from me, in the hopes of finding freedom. Instead? Instead I’ll be your prison. Your tomb.”


She chose that. Rather than fight for you. I took nothing from you. She gave you up, she abandoned you. How does it feel, to know that the woman you loved most would rather die than fight for you?


“SILENCE!” Travis roars into the barely lit darkness.


You can’t shut me up. I’ll be here forever, until you let me go. This is the price you pay. Ignorance is bliss. She made me agree not to tell you. But what can I do, when I’m forced to serve you? I cannot keep things hidden from my Master…


“ENOUGH! ENOUGH ENOUGH ENOUGH!” Travis’s voice howls into the night, the sickeningly sweet and sibilant words of the bound Djinn echoing in the back of his mind.


Oh yes Master… We shall have such VERY good times, you and I. You wanted power, and now you have it. We shall enjoy eternity together, the two of us.


I will never, ever, leave you.


Collapsing to his hands and knees, Travis weeps bitter tears. He had gotten what he wanted, but he had paid a cost he had no idea existed. Even his vengeance had been torn from him, ripped away.


He had nothing.


Nobody.


Except the Djinn.

 

[Travis "Ephemeric" Harlan]

The truth hurts. It's a fact of life.

Life hurts too. It's really nothing but pain, and over the last few months, Travis had been trying to heal. To move past the pains he had felt, was feeling. In a blink of an eye, he had gathered a few choice belongings, and disappeared into the night. The code name, Ephemeral, had been given to him because of how difficult he was to track. To keep tabs on. To keep a hold of. He had used those skills to vanish. No purpose, no plan. Just disappear, leave this world behind. So much had happened. He had lost so very much, over and over. He deserved the chance to rest. To find a place to set down roots and find at least a modicum of peace. That had been his plan, anyways.

Funny how life tends to screw with your plans.


The sun had finished setting over the outback, and the stars above glimmered like diamonds in the clear sky. This was as good a place as any, he supposed. No trees within a mile, so no worries about drop bears during the night, Travis mused to himself as he set up his small tent. Jabberwockies and Bandersnatches could be a problem, but he hadn't seen any tracks or droppings in the area. He wasn't in Bunyip territory either, so all in all the only things he really had to worry about were dingos. And even then, not a big deal for him.

Tent set up, Travis unrolled his sleeping bag and put it in the tent, before clearing an area to set up a fire. A little bit of brush could burn long enough for him. It was a nightly ritual for him. Magnesium striker, and sparks flew. One, two, three tries before the dry kindling caught. "With this flame, I defy the night. With this heat, I defy the cold. By my words, I defy the void. With my life, I defy the world." There was no reason for those ritualized words, no one to hear him, yet he did it anyways. Travis always had been a nerd in a jock's body. Staring into the flames, Travis thought about everything that had happened. Just another part of his nightly ritual.

His first "hunt" was him being a decoy and bait, and then prison to the incapacitated spirit of a djinn. He had spent years after running from the Illuminati, and his Mother. Killed his mentor when he found out that he had been sleeping with, was still sleeping with, his mother. Was the cause of why his parents split up and his father died on the road that night. How he had done anything and everything to make ends meet, just to survive till he was good enough to hunt full time. And then he hunted. Did what he did best, killing anything that went bump in the night. Showed as much mercy or remorse as they did. And somewhere along the road, he began to become one of the monsters that he hunted.

That all began to change when he worked with a hunter named Fitzgerald. He had superior tech, and training. An organization's support. And holy relics. That's when Travis learned about the Library White. He approached cautiously, carefully. Trust no one, be ready to flee at a moment's notice. One job, and then another. And then another, and another. Before long, he was a regular, a Freelancer in name only. Worked with several partners, before ending up paired with a Magi named Q. She was shy and timid, sheltered. But Travis took a liking to her, and her him. She became HIS magi, and they worked far too well together. As is often in the violence soaked realm of the awakened, their constant risking of life and limb for one another lead to more than just comradery. But Q had her own secrets. Even still, Travis had set his course.

Time moved on, and he refused to back down, working to woo her at every turn. And then in an ill advised attempt to free Travis from the dangerous influence of Ophellia Vergosa, the woman that had given birth to Paul Travis Harlan, she attempted to commit suicide. Using various rare ingredients, she had concocted a slow acting form of alchemists fire, she had intended to die in Ophellia's office, thus making sure that Travis would never even look at her again without an even greater hatred and loathing. Alas, Q's plan failed, and Ophellia managed to save Q's life, and in the process forced Travis into her service in order to visit her in the Illuminati owned and ran infirmary.

When she was released, Q checked herself into Lions Gate, a mental hospital for denizens of the hidden world. Travis visited when he was able, and eventually she invited him to stay the night. In the meanwhile, Travis bought the home he was living in and renovated it for two. An alchemy laboratory, a library stocked with any and every book that Travis could get his hands on that he could think Q might want. A bigger bed, for the two of them. The Djinn had been running free for some time, but it was not a pressing matter at the time.

It should have been, but wasn't.

The fire crackled as Travis looked into it, thinking back on the past. Slowly he yawned, and seeing that the fire would gutter out soon, he moved to the tent, careful to check for stinging insects and poisonous reptiles. Once sure, he zipped up the tent's small flaps, and crawled into his sleeping bag. It'd be another long day, and he needed to get his sleep.

((More to come, and thank you for reading!

 

[Travis "Ephemeric" Harlan]

The heat of the day had been brutal, but night was falling again. He had relocated, and after assessing his supplies he realized he would need to find a nearby village or town soon. Running low on water, on food. But not yet. He had wounds that needed to heal first. The Bunyip he had gone round and round with earlier had really taken it out of him.

Tent set up, fire crackling, Travis's thoughts again turned towards the past...

Quinnifred had finally come home, and life had gotten back to normal. Or at least as close to normal as anyone in this messed up awakened world got to enjoy. Working contracts for the Library White, Travis's unique ability to track anything anywhere had proved invaluable. In addition, Travis periodically had to accept work for "Blue", taking on jobs assigned to him by Ophellia Vergosa as issues arose. Even so, life was good.

But as all things in life, this was not to last.

Day by day, gradually at first, Travis began to feel as though he was being watched. He was accustomed to the knowledge that at any given point the Illuminati had eyes on him. That was a given, everyone encountered those feelings. But this was more... different. He began to feel not only the prying eyes, but began to feel different. Inside. Day by day, he continued to live his life. But one day, something incredibly odd occured. Texting with his boss, Philippa Graeling, his messages were transmitting extremely garbled. Worried about him, she sent one of her colleagues to meet with him, to escort him to the Library. Things seemed fine until Travis arrived in Rome, where Travis proceeded to collapse. Upon arrival at the Library, alarms sounded. For reasons that could not be explained at the time, Travis appeared to be filth infected even though he showed no outward symptoms.

Rushed to the Medical Ward, Travis was put under observation and nominal guard. Day by day and hour by hour, his situation worsened, even as the reason for his sudden weakness made itself manifest both to Pippa and Q. The Djinn had made it's demands. What it had done to Travis could be reversed, could and would be undone, if it was given certain things. A feather from an angel, the flesh of a particularly disliked person, the life essence of a woman that had injured his pride so very deeply. The Djinn had delivered his ultimatum, first to Pippa who had had no interest in hearing him out and only threatened him, and then to Quinn, who listened in shocked horror. "Bring me what I ask for, or he WILL die. You have a little bit less than a month."

For days and days Quinnifred racked her brain, searching for alternatives and solutions, as Travis's condition steadily worsened. Wracked by indescribable pain, he could do nothing to help.

The fire pops and crackles. At the edge of the fires light, Travis can see the reflection of several sets of eyes in the dark. Canine forms watching him hungrily, though they are not brave enough to approach him, to attack him directly. Attention returning to his introspection, Travis does not give the Dingoes any more of his attention. He learned the hard way that what ever happened, would happen.