Mordecai stood on the threshold of his best friend’s door and prepared his heart and mind as best he could. Fifty years. Fifty years he had spent searching for his child, looking for any hint of his or her possible existence. There had been none. Well, not none, he amended. After that fateful day, he had begun to feel an inexplicable link to Australia even though his home had always been his birthplace of Scotland. Around forty years ago, there had been a definite increase in chades in the New South Wales coastline. It hadn’t been big at first and it had been rather sporadic. Almost as if pockets of chades would become agitated for a time before settling once again. After a few years monitoring their patterns, he had determined there was none – no patterns whatsoever. There were no clues as to what they were doing or why – just as it had always been. But he had begun to suspect they were being drawn to something and he had wondered – half-hoping – if it was perhaps his missing child.
It made sense; chades were drawn to power – to vitality. That life-sustaining energy that allowed wardens like himself to maintain and communicate with their elements. He couldn’t count the number of times he had witnessed chades bypassing paladins and even wardens with lesser abilities in order to get to those who were stronger. Like moths to a flame, a chade would be lured to the brightest energy source in the area. And even though he had never met his child, he knew there would be no brighter spark than a child of a Goddess – than a Custodian. It also explained why the chades were amassing again and why they seemed to linger in certain areas. But by the time he and his paladins had investigated those areas, there was no trace of wardens or paladins or even a chade. Although, there had always been the lingering echoes of pain – and of death. The feeling had left him sick to his stomach on more than one occasion. Something, or someone, had delivered death in those places. And so, he had coasted through the years with the hope that his theory would one day prove correct and he would run into a child he had helped create. A child even his paladins hadn’t believed could exist.
After crashing their way through his door the morning after meeting Dana, the four men had believed the weight of the world’s grief had finally broken him. They had listened with pity in their eyes as he had rambled and stuttered his way through an explanation before he finally became sick of their disbelief. He had blasted into their minds, showing them Dana in all her goddess glory. The truth had brought them all to their knees. As for himself, it was more guilt and remorse rather than shock that had him staring blankly at the dirty tavern wall. But in true Valhalla fashion, his paladins – his brothers – had dragged his sorry arse up and shaken the life back into him;
‘Your child will return to you, and when they do, do you really think they will be proud of the man you are in this moment? Ensure you are a man they can be proud of.’
Madigan’s words had rung in his head and from that moment on, he had done everything he could to discover the secrets of the creatures his child was created to cure. He had inserted himself into the Rangers and ensured he was the direct commanding officer of the rangers in this area. He had even gone so far as to place his very own paladin into the primary Ranger Unit. Cayson, Aiden’s older brother, had been an invaluable asset over the years and he had gained the trust and respect of some of the best rangers alive, like Nikolai. But even with direct access to the chade encampment, answers had been frustratingly elusive. There had always been something he couldn’t quite figure out – the answers he sought were always just out of his reach.
And now he knew why – Garrett. His best friend and confidant had been keeping secrets of his own. With the new information that Garrett’s son was somehow a mutated chade, Mordecai wondered if for all those years the chades weren’t following Max at all. But something else entirely. Like Emmanuel.
A hand suddenly reached from behind him, giving the heavy wooden door a sound pounding and Mordecai flinched, raising his eyebrows at Tobias;
“What? You were taking too long,” his paladin answered, completely unrepentant.
Before he could formulate a response, the door was swinging open, revealing Garrett’s Captain. Brent’s eyes narrowed a little but his words were as welcoming as always; “Lord Mordecai, a pleasure. How might I be of assistance?”
Mordecai had to clear his throat before he could speak, “I was hoping to see –”
“Mordecai! This is a nice surprise. Come in, come in,” Garrett appeared behind his paladin, promptly ushering them all inside before Mordecai could even finish his sentence.
Mordecai studied his long-time friend, seeing nothing but welcome and warmth on his features and he began to wonder if maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Garrett had no idea his son was still out there, committing horrors against their world.
“This isn’t a social call,” he managed to get out. Garrett’s four paladins promptly appeared, picking up on the tension in his voice.
Garrett frowned, looking concerned, “Oh?”
“No,” he swallowed thickly. “It’s about your son.”
Garrett’s face went deathly pale, his entire well-muscled frame becoming rigid in the sudden uncomfortable silence of the room. Mordecai forged ahead; “Did you know he’s still alive?”
“Alive? Mordecai, what are you talking about? Why are you saying these things? You know how much his death devastated me and his mother. Why are you bringing this up?” Garrett looked sick and grief-stricken, truly confused and Mordecai felt himself breathe once again.
“Garrett, Emmanuel is alive. A chade – but alive nonetheless,” he revealed.
Garrett spun around, turning his back on him, “What are you talking about? Emmanuel was a chade. We toiled for years to find a cure. When one could not be found and we were beyond all hope, I took his head myself.”
Despite the sincerity in the man’s voice and countenance, Mordecai had to be sure. So, with Garrett’s back turned, he took the opportunity to look at the man. As in, look with his element. Although Mordecai couldn’t see truth and lies within a person’s aura like a Life Warden could, he could see the scars buried within a person’s body and mind. And now that he looked at Garrett, he could see the open and rotting holes in the man’s aura. The scars weren’t healed over like they should have been after all this time. No, they were wide open and festering, leaking foulness and infection. How could I have not seen this? Mordecai wondered, incredulous. How had the man managed to hide such a taint all these years?
It was true, Mordecai never deliberately examined his fellow wardens, nor paladins for that matter. He hated intruding on people’s privacy. It was a fine line. Whereas most other wardens dealt with nature, death wardens like himself – and also life wardens – dealt with people. The balance between fulfilling their purpose by maintaining balance, and invading people’s thoughts, bodies, and emotions was a tricky thing. But even so, the degree of sickness in front of him should have been obvious. It practically oozed from the man’s pores.
The one breath Mordecai had been able to draw in turned to dust. He barely managed to swallow down the bile in his throat as Garrett turned to face him once again. The stricken look on his face must have been enough for Garrett to realise the jig was up, and his face morphed from baffled pain to smug calculation.
“You should see your face!” Garrett laughed. “Oh, I’ve been waiting years for you to see me – really see me. And I dreamed often what your face would look like, but it doesn’t compare to reality. You look like a kicked puppy – a sick, kicked puppy.”
“Garrett …” it was all Mordecai could manage. The man in front of him did not resemble his friend of over a millennium in any way.
“Garrett …” the Life Warden mocked, laughing once again, “I was hoping you would be around to see all my plans finally come to fruition. Over fifty years in the making and finally, with the appearance of your bastard daughter, the end is in sight.”
Mordecai was shaking with rage, but denial was still strong in his mind – and in his heart. It was the only thing keeping him from launching at the man. “What about Autumn? Does she know what you’ve been doing?” he asked.
“My dear, Mordecai. It was my idea.”
The pleasant voice came from behind him and he felt his four paladins move swiftly to surround him, scythes at the ready. Garrett’s four paladins and Autumn’s three paladins were quick to mirror his Order’s actions, forming a barrier around their respective lieges. Mordecai watched as Autumn strolled leisurely into the room. The smile on her face was familiar but the look of pure malice in her eyes was completely new.
“My love,” Garrett crooned, holding his hand out to his wife as she made her way slowly to his side. She placed her hand in his and smiled softly when he raised her hand to kiss the back of it with reverence. “And how is our son today?” Garrett inquired of the woman by his side.
“Strong. Very strong,” she assured her husband, smiling widely. “He’s been feeding well.”
Mordecai felt his heart stutter in his chest, feeding? “What do you mean feeding?”
“Emmanuel is a growing boy. He needs to eat,” Autumn informed him, primly.
“You’ve been feeding your son wardens?” His voice sounded thin even to his own ears. He felt sick to his stomach and had to close his eyes against the sight of his two best friends standing in front of him.
“What would you have me do, Mordecai? Watch him starve to death? Watch him suffer? I’m not like you – I can’t stand by idly while my child is in pain.”
The words were a direct hit and Mordecai felt the sting of them down to his very soul. “You’re sick. You’re both sick,” Mordecai shook his head, his heart reeling from the betrayal. “All those wardens that have gone missing over the years. All those wardens converting to chades. Our dwindling numbers … that’s because of you?!” He could barely wrap his mind around what he was hearing and found himself praying with everything within him that he was trapped in some kind of nightmare and would wake up any minute.
Garrett and Autumn smiled, looking smug and proud. “Well, we can’t take all the credit,” Autumn demurred. “Emmanuel is the real hero here.”
“Hero?” Mordecai whispered.
“Of course. He’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, Mordecai. The energy he has? The power he can wield with a thought? It’s staggering. Not that he was always like this. No, once he was so sick, so weak …” Garrett shook his head, sadly. “We were ready to give up. But then we tried one last thing and our son returned to us. And then, a few years later, you came to me spinning tales of a drunken encounter with a Goddess and a mythical love-child.” Garrett laughed, a happy sound that grated, “I thought you were mad. But as I listened to you and peered into your aura, I could see you were telling the truth. And I knew all we had to do was bide our time – be patient. Our patience has been well worth it. Our son, our precious Emmanuel, will soon be a God upon this earth.”
“He is no God,” Mordecai growled out. “Max is the only Goddess to walk this earth.”
“Ah, yes. Your daughter,” Autumn spat the word out as if it tasted sour in her mouth. “Your foul-mouthed, disrespectful, ingrate of a child. Clearly she wasn’t raised well.” Autumn grinned at him, delighting in his pain, “Oh, that’s right. She wasn’t raised at all, was she? Grew up selling her body on the streets like some filthy gutter rat.”
Red literally clouded his vision and he felt his element rush up and out of his body in a frigid blast of insidious black and gold energy. Garrett’s powers likewise burst forth, violet and white, to collide with his. The elements of Life and Death met in the middle of the room – a perfect balance for each other – and rebounded back to their masters. The shock wave lifted Mordecai off his feet and then everything went black.