Unchosen (Veteran Alchemists Only)

admin_jared Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:49 am

The commentary thread can be found here.

Thread Briefing: After two years and various adventures behind them, the original alchemists have found a new place in this world. Although they were foolish to think they could hide forever. Serik’s depowering may have given them a temporary shelter, but now unarmed and still in a battlefield they might have actually sealed their fates.

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:46 pm

Forunate Isle Penthouse
Los Angeles, California

Mission: The Search for Serik
Time: 11:00am PST

Two years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. In two years anything was possible; anything could happen. By now, it had all seemed like one never-ending nightmare that would replay in the back of her mind. It was Albert Einstein that said reality is merely an illusion, albeit a persistent one. Her reality had drastically changed, had transformed her into the unrecognizable person she was today. For Lorelei Ashford, reality was something she dealt with on a day-to-day basis. The only difference was, she wouldn’t let it run her life anymore. Two years passed, she at least had grasped some happiness in her life despite the fact her family had been ripped apart. Before her very eyes, she watched her two cousins slaughtered right in front of her. They had died trying to protect her brother and her. The Ashford children had been caught off guard and their home had been swarmed with hunters aimed to destroy them all. That day they failed, she and her brother Michael had survived. And yet, that wasn’t the end to the chaos that ensued afterwards. Before the attack, the elders and her parents had disappeared without a trace. Coincidence? Most definitely not. The attack had been planned knowing they would be unprotected. They had been targeted for the very reason they were simply born into what they were—magical. None of them chose their destines, it was sporadic. Because of this, a sworn brotherhood to the church of old had been set on the one task of ridding what was considered blasphemy, the Devil’s work. She had been so stupid, so naïve to think that all would be fine once the Ashford siblings reached the Estate. For a while, things had been good, really good.

While any shred of light was rare and something to cherish, she had been reunited with those of her kind—her friends. All of the families had lost brothers, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles; an entire generation had been wiped out and the reins were passed down to them. Lorelei was now Head of her family and somewhere in the manor laid a traitor. Despite the unhappy circumstances, they had all been reunited. Brayden was to guide the evokers, Adelina had stepped into the necromancers’ shoes, Cal led the illusionists, and Gavin stood as head of the conjurer family. Although there were seven families, she had never been close with Clover of the abjurers or Margaux of the diviners. Quite frankly, she never trusted a diviner as far as she could throw them and instinct spoke loudly in her ears. Diviners were the ones to be wary of despite the popular belief that necromancers were the true source of dissenters. Their time together would prove educational and it was no secret that Lorelei had bias towards those within her circle. The head of the necromancer and enchanter families had always had a fun rivalry and that rivalry had transformed into long lasting friendship. Together the girls would scheme and plot the utter embarrassment of a particular conjurer; whether it was changing the color of his room to pink or accidentally enchanting a few spiders to wreck havoc. Boys were always the enemy. Before the kidnapping of the arcanist children, the families had all been very close. The older children were constantly surrounded by one another but that had changed when they had been swiped out from under their roofs. After that, gatherings of the families were less frequent and the youngest would grow up apart. She had been old enough to remember the way things had been, Lorelei had only bothered with those she knew well.

Throughout her teenage years, the enchantress had spent summers with Cal in Italy—he being the only other arcanist she kept up with on a regular basis. And then there was Gavin. A frown formed on her pretty lips just thinking about the past. Despite pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, every once in a while they would come back to haunt her. One word always followed after it—incorrigible. Mentally shaking her head, Lorelei’s emerald hues would glance around the busy streets of Los Angeles. What had she been thinking about? The Estate. Paradise hadn’t lasted and factions had formed out of suspicion and distrust. Only a few months had passed and none of them stood a chance when everyone stood apart. The Behemoth came and proceeded to kill the remaining few who were left. She barely managed to escape; her brother had not been so lucky. Lorelei Ashford had become the sole enchanter—the only one that could keep her bloodline alive. She could still hear the screams in nightmares. There were only five or six of them left and no way to know who was dead or alive. They couldn’t go back; shadowkind would have been waiting for them and with their numbers almost completely destroyed, none of them stood much of a chance. What was left had regrouped in Florida as they had all hoped to buy some time. There was no escape though. More fell; more of those she cared about died at the hands of those perusing them. The arcanists were fighting a losing battle and hope dwindled. And yet, while she had lost almost everyone, one person still remained. Drifting off, a far away gaze would cloud her eyes as she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the street. She remembered the night like it was yesterday. Brayden had been the only other one there besides him. The Behemoth had been on their trail for days and in one night, happiness was destroyed. She lost the one person she had shared deep feelings for. Had it been love?

Even she hadn’t fully understood what she felt. A bile taste filtered into her mouth as she thought of his disappearance. He was dead; at least that’s what she thought. After that moment two years ago, something inside her changed. According to Serik it was no longer safe for her to be out in the open. He had found her, blinked her away, and insisted that her powers be stripped. Those powers were the only thing left—she had grown up with them. The remaining enchanter would not hide underground despite his instance. She was an Ashford, and while they usually avoided conflict, once attacked they fought back. And besides, what else was there for her to lose at this point? Serik gave her no choice and was drained of every last bit of mana she had. According to him, the shadows would not be able to track her down now, but she was furious. Before she could stop him, he was gone and so was her heritage.

Reaching inside the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her iPhone and hit the speed dial. Receiver to her ear, only a few rings would be heard. “Brayden, I’ll be at the Penthouse in ten minutes—meet me there.” For two years she had tried to track down Serik, that search brought her to California. While Brayden had survived, Lorelei had cut herself off from the rest of the world. Part of her had died and coldness had sunk deep within her very core. Nothing could make her feel and she had accepted nothing ever would. What had once held a sparkle, now held a deep, dark void. A graceful posture had turned rigid as it was wrapped in fitted jeans, black tang top, and black leather jacket. She was surrounded by color and had seemed out of place, standing apart from all those around. Sunglasses shielded her eyes and the long wavy locks of hair swayed in the wind. The shell that was left may have held a recognizable face but the soul inside was empty and twisted. Brayden was the only one who knew just how she had spent the last two years but he would never fully comprehend exactly what she had done. Out of vengeance and anger she had struck at those who had taken from her. Even without powers she had gone after the Leopold hunters. All the while, her search for Serik continued and today she would seek the aid of an old friend.

Rounding the corner, the familiar surroundings greeted her. The Penthouse had been her family’s and she had rightly inherited it in the process. It had been years since she had been here, and no one had lived in it for some time. There had been no use for it, until now. Standing in front of the double doors, she would enter the establishment and take the elevator all the way up to the top floor where she would need to swipe her security card to activate the lift. Despite the lack of its use, Lorelei had followed the hallway to the door that open up and lead into the foyer. Squinting her eyes to adjust to the light, she flicked on the lights. Her heels clicked on the polished floors—her home away from home. Sighing deeply an eerie feeling had taken over her and she had no idea what this new search would bring.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:47 pm

(Brayden continues from here..)

THE SEARCH FOR SERIK;
FORTUNATE ISLE PENTHOUSE, LOS ANGELES, C.A.

Two years may seem like a short period of time for some people, but for others it’s a ridiculously long time to dwell on thoughts of when life was simpler, easier to live; for Brayden, two years was long enough to practically drive him insane. He had grown up mostly carefree, never having to step up to the plate and take responsibility for anyone other than himself. He lived his life with laughter and splendor, relishing in the family life that he had been blessed with by his parents. As he grew up, he was allowed to make his own thoughts and choices without having to worry about them affecting anyone else negatively; he lived his life and chose to go to medical school, transforming his normal routines of checking on his siblings and going out with his older brother into ones of studying and dedication to the medical field. For some this wouldn’t seem that selfish – he was going to become a surgeon, a person who could save lives and perform what would seemingly be miracles. To others, like a younger sister who challenged him every chance she got, it was selfish.

Brayden hadn’t meant to be selfish – he was encouraged by the rest of his family to pursue his career choice, and that encouragement came in strong words from Eli and Cathrine. While he studied harder and dedicated lengthy hours to practice, he began to lose contact due to missed calls and late nights. Eli visited him once, and it was that day that he and Brayden made a pact to drop everything if their family needed them. It was that day that Eli was thrown from his car on the way back home, the last conversation he had being with his brother. Throwing himself in his studies harder than before, Brayden graduated from Harvard Medical School and went on to accept an internship program at a renowned hospital. Unfortunately, once his internship was completed, he received a phone call from Cathrine, asking him to come home and informing him that the Elders of the arcane families, even his parents, had disappeared without word. Turning down an offer of residency, the Evoker remembered his pact with Eli and rushed to the Azoth Estate to be with his family once more.

From the time he arrived at the manor to its destruction, he found himself at war. If he wasn’t at battle with the Shadowkind, he was being scrutinized and shamed by his youngest sister, Alison. Since the Elders were gone and Eli was dead, it was Brayden’s duty to step up and become Head of the Evokers. Alison challenged him, and if it wasn’t him that she was arguing with, it was a different sibling or even another family. He tried his best to reconcile what was left of the Abrams, but while Cathrine and Alec welcomed him, Alison put up a fight. Even when the Estate was attacked and families were devastated and ruined, the Abrams wouldn’t know peace. The only two survivors were Cathrine and Brayden himself; they were the sole Evokers left alive that would carry on their bloodline.

Escaping Seattle, the Head Evoker raced to Florida for refuge with those that had survived the attack on the Estate. There was no luck to be found, even with as hard as they all searched. More fell; more friends that Brayden held dear and more hunters that he didn’t want losing their life for him. They were helpless; no matter what tactic they tried, the Shadowkind grew in numbers and their strength increased, overpowering the survivors. Brayden had begun to lose hope for survival. It was around this time that Serik, the Essentian from the Arcane realm and who Brayden had grown closest to, gave them an escape – with or without consent from the remaining Arcanists, their powers were taken and they were left with nothing; and while the Shadowkind wouldn’t be able to track them, the Evoker felt empty without his mana. The trade off would save their lives, but what was he to do now? His family, aside from Cat, was gone. And to make matters worse, Serik was seemingly obliterated – and with him, their powers might have been, too. The world was quickly becoming a darker place for them all, and the two years that followed the events could have any number of effects on those who were still alive.

Over the span of two years, Brayden shut down. He moved out of Florida and to Los Angeles, where he thought he’d have the best chance of starting over. With old friends Gavin and Afton dead, the man had two left: Lorelei Ashford and his sister, Cat. Taking up a residency at a hospital within L.A., Brayden kept in touch with those two and that was it – he didn’t make new friends. His free time was spent hunting; even without his powers, he refused to let the Shadowkind spawn and win the war. They couldn’t track him, so why not track them? The world wasn’t a safe place, and in his eyes, it wouldn’t be unless they continued to fight for it. The thoughts about this always made Brayden ill; he hadn’t been able to save his family or the others from the war, but he was going to try his hardest to fight for them where they couldn’t.

Walking out of the hospital with these thoughts had a small smile on his lips; he always tried to find the light, and even though it was hard to do, at least he had an easier time finding it than Lorelei did. He had grown closer to her over the two years, the two finding some sort of sanity, and even though the Enchanter had taken a drastic path after everything that had happened, he was determined to stick by her side whenever she needed him. She was a close friend that had gone through everything that he had and was still standing; for that, he highly respected her. He had received her phone call and had already been on his way; but what she needed was unknown to him. He took the elevator the very top floor, leaning back against the rail while waiting for it to reach its destination.

Exiting the double doors as they opened, the Evoker began to make his way down the hallway to the doors. He hadn’t been to the penthouse too often while he was in L.A., but he did whenever Lorelei called for him. Truth be told, it brought up too many memories; while it was in the Enchanter’s possession, the Evokers had stayed here once or twice in Brayden’s youth, only visiting. He and Eli used to share a room, and they had once accidentally locked Alec in the closet when he was three. The memories of his family made his stomach turn, and the statue that greeted him as he opened up the door to the penthouse didn’t help, either. Calling out, he shut the door behind him. “Lora? Are you here, yet?”

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:49 pm

Ghosts and shadows of the past flashed before her eyes as Lorelei Ashford remembered a time long gone by. Even though it had been years since she had stepped foot into the Penthouse it felt alive. Many arcanists had spent their time here; it was their haven. The Azoth Estate might have been their power center, a place where the families were strongest, but the Penthouse was a getaway for all intents and purposes. Frozen on the step of the foyer, she couldn’t peel her eyes away from the rich décor or the familiar surge of energy that still ran through the very walls of the room. Ancient power lurked in every corner, a reminder of what she had lost and why she was here. Shifting the weight on her shoulder, her travel bag hung by her side. Even though it had been two years, she had yet to adjust to life as a human. Fingertips gently pushed the door closed behind her as she stepped down from the entryway. Before her stood the large sculpture she had spent much of her childhood studying. Despite its odd tentacle-like structure, the piece was fascinating to the eye. With a simple brush, the pads of her fingers would graze the hard surface as she circled the statue. Scrutinizing eyes would study the piece as if she were only seeing it for the first time, yet emerald hues seemed far away from the world. The patrician lines of her jaw remained set and her features seemed placid and undistinguished. Without a second thought, she stepped away from the centerpiece as she made her way to the hall that would lead her to her room, passed the library and the guest bedrooms.

While she hadn’t lived here in some time, the Penthouse was spotless and well taken care of. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened as the space between her and the door at the end of the hall drew near. Her powers may have been stripped, but the enchantress could still sense it all around her. She couldn’t go on like this anymore. Lorelei may not have been as powerful as she once was but she had dealt quite a bit of damage in the process. A cold smirk barely played at the corners of her lips. It was true; there was no satisfaction in revenge. Yet, in her revenge she felt as though she were actually doing something instead of hiding away like a scared little puppy. She had been spared the same fate as her friends and family; that fact bothered her more than anything. Why her? The Ancients could never really answer that question for her, not like they would to begin with. For two years she walked along a dark path with no hope or ambition in life. Her only goal was to survive another day and take down just one more hunter of the Leopold family. The shadowkind could no longer sense her presence, yet some proved to be too powerful to take on herself. In those cases she called upon Brayden’s assistance—the only time she would stay in contact.

Wrapping her hand around the cold brass knob, she twisted it and pushed open the door of the Master Bedroom. The room was dark since the drapes were shut closed. Walking towards the window, from memory, she reached out to the chord dangling from the ceiling. With a few good tugs, the drapes would sweep open revealing the Los Angeles skyline, light pouring in to bathe the room. Tossing her bag on the nearby coffee table, she looked around the room. The four-poster bed stood further down the room as it was dressed in royal blue sheets. Because the Enchanters hadn’t always had full possession of the Penthouse, each room had a touch of each generation and family that suited to them. Taking a seat on the couch, she looked over the arm of the chair to find an old picture frame sitting on the stand. Almost hesitant, she grabbed the frame and glanced at the foreign smiles on the faces. It had been taken years ago. Michael and she had been visiting Los Angeles with her parents a year or two before the elders’ disappearance. She had just graduated from school and was celebrating with her family. The picture had been taken at their favorite restaurant not too far from the Fortunate Isle Penthouse. A slam of the door pulled her away from her memories as she almost slammed the picture back down in its resting place as if it had burned her. Standing up to her full height from the couch she would raise her voice across the room. “I’m back here!” Sighing, she bent over slightly to throw open the zipper of her bag. This was no time to forget why she was here or fall into the memories of the past. In order to find Serik, she would need Brayden’s help. He was the only other arcanist left, or so she thought.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:50 pm

Locking the door behind him, Brayden took a step into the foyer and stared at the statue before him. The look of the creature still brought chills down his spine, and he remembered how he used to be frightened of it when he was younger. Truth be told, the tentacles that expelled from the marble still made goosebumps pop up onto his skin – when he was just a child, he was always afraid that the statue was going to spring to life while he was sleeping and gobble him up. It hadn’t necessarily been a story that he had been told when he was younger, but his mind – just like any other child’s – tended to run rampant with any idea concerning a monster possibly eating them up. Eli had always teased him for his thoughts, though the two had used the statue as a means for scaring little Alison into being a nice girl for a change. It seemed like so long ago that his family had all been at the penthouse, and truth be told, Brayden was afraid that he would forget all of the times that his family did spend together. His siblings were always on his mind, but he feared that with time, their voices would fade and no longer be heard.

Lorelei’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and with it he was caught a bit off guard. With one last look towards the unknown creature, the Evoker began to make his way towards the source. He hadn’t seen the Enchanter in quite some time, though he always made it to her side whenever she needed him. Usually whenever she called, it was for his help on a mission for Shadowkind; while the two didn’t have their powers anymore, they still had refused to give up the fight. Maybe that was why they were both here now – Brayden didn’t know, but he had no doubt that it was for his help. He was glad to lend any hand he could in killing off any sign of the evil creatures; without his powers, he felt weak, useless. Being in the penthouse made him miss the mana that once ran through his veins. The walls seemed to echo vibrant reminders of the power that they housed before. And with every step he took, Brayden found it harder to put the thoughts in the back of his mind. Serik was destroyed, and with him, so were his gifts. At least, that’s what he thought.

Stepping into the doorway of the master bedroom, the Evoker leaned against the frame and watched his friend unpack her things. Thinking back to events over the past two years had Brayden frowning. The Enchanter had gone through so much, lost so many close to her and was still standing. Sure, both of them had suffered a great loss, but he wasn’t worried about himself. He knew how he was coping – throwing himself into work and the hunt. He had a separate way of dealing with his losses, but for Lorelei, he had no idea how she was getting through it. He was always there whenever she requested, but the hunts the two went on could hardly count as a way to get out her aggression. He didn’t push – and while maybe he should have, he didn’t feel it was his place to force her to talk to him. She had changed, evolved into a woman who was standing her own ground and dealing with things her own way. Who was Brayden to question her? “Need any help?”

He could only imagine what kind of Shadowkind was about to wreck havoc in Los Angeles. Perhaps it was a Rogue Tulpa or some Red Cap who was extending their hunt to the city rather than staying cooped up within abandoned houses. Whatever the threat was this time, Brayden was silently itching to take it down.

Plotline Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:53 pm

THE SEARCH FOR SHINY THINGS;
RODEO DRIVE BEVERLY HILLS, C.A.

Two sales ladies franticly unclasp the necklaces in the display cases removing the precious jewels from the velour neckline. They seemed anxious as if this buyer were a distinguished celebrity with an unstable temperament. They strutted across the sales floor passing priceless scarves and high-gloss black leather loafers. Each woman fighting against the disadvantage of her heels making it difficult to reach a speed expected by their client. A luscious electronica beat filled the room followed by a devil-may care female vocal. The high style song fit the mood of the store perfectly and clapping paralleled with heavy breathing clandestinely elevated the moods of its customers. The jewelry was packaged and placed in front of the customer; fingers grazed the merchandise as she swiped his card. A receipt leapt from the machine and was placed in his view where he could sign. Once the pen left the paper he turned and walked away with hands gathering several bags adding the new purchase to the cargo. When his silhouette disappeared into the blinding sunlight outside the store, the cashier checked the store receipt and noticed he has signed as “Kim Kardashian.” A knot tightened in her stomach and he screamed for the store guards. They raced outside, but it was too late to trail his path. Inside the passenger’s seat of a shiny new silver BMW, the crafty thief had gotten away with it.

Adelina Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:56 pm

Among Necromancer kin, emotion in its purest and even smallest form; was forbidden. Adelina had grown in this light and learned to be in all words, an ice queen, stoic, and heartless. Mourning was unnecessary, they had lost so many of their loved ones, family, and friends so by the time she and her brother had found refuge with the rest of the Arcanists, she had become immune. For those who praised death, and life as well, she would try and think positively, for her own sanity and that of her brother. Everything seemed to slowly be going in the direction that the Arcanists favored, till slowly and surely chaos slipped through each fortified wall of their manor. Rumors plagued each mouth, talk of deceit and lies troubled their new family, and in the end the walls fell, and darkness began to take over the light of their home. It wasn’t till the shadow kind came that the rumors were verified to be true, not till the Behemoth came that the light of hope they held was gone.

During the attack, everything was a blur. Nothing was thought out, and nothing was discussed, it was kill or be killed. Help within the families, or watch them die before you. Adelina had seen many die, fought along many, and felt her throat burn with every emotion she was trying to keep inside. She remembered only distinct things that had left an imprint in her mind, the others she had tried over these two years to block out and forget for eternity. Despite the wary attitudes of many towards the Necromancer family, many of those rumors had been removed during their childhood when Adelina had been a playmate to many of the Arcanist children of her own age, one of those being Lora, or Lorelei Ashford. These were one of the people imprinted in her mind, the girl had seen so many losses in a night, she had watched as she went from a carefree spirit, to that burdened with loss. As the manor fell apart, Lora and Adelina had fought off as many shadow kind as they could, trying to protect the younger kin of their families line. It wasn’t till the two of them witnessed the first death within their fight, that they realized the severity of their losses; Michael Ashford had fallen before them. Lora had been immediately struck with grief, she had ran to her brothers side to only have Adelina run behind her, comforting her for as many seconds as the shadow kind and Behemoth allowed, too many of them had come. It hadn’t even been a minute before they were attacked again, the Shadowkind wanted to finish them off, so when they attacked the two once more they unwillingly separated, Adelina heading up the stairs, and Lora heading down the hall. This is the last time she had seen her dear friend, and ever since she hoped she was alive. The stairs had lead to even more havoc, it seemed that the deeper she reached into the manor, the more the manor had been destroyed. The image of Lora’s expression, and Michael’s pale face haunting her as she didn’t feel anyone at her side. Not even her brother, and it was here when she realized the two had been separated. It wouldn’t take long before she found him, at first she had hoped it was a shadow kind; but then she realized it was him, beneath a pile of rubble, barely breathing, warm liquid covering his attire.

Adelina had never felt such a surge of emotion, before she could control herself, call upon that steel wall of resolve: she cried out. Screamed, as her own brothers blood covered her clothes, cried as his eyes moved in her direction, then finally rage, as his eyes went lifeless. She would never forget what had happened in these few moments, his hand, cold reaching toward her. Touching the warmth of her cheek to only fall upon the dirt, as his eyes had. Her brother could not die, and she couldn’t let him. She felt her eyes surge with tears and they fell upon his lifeless face as she held onto him ever so tightly, screaming in her native tongue and begging him to be strong and return. They were the symbol and embodiment of death, and she had not decided that it was his time. Before Adelina could cry out again, the Shadowkind had returned again; coming because of her screams. Rage, hatred, grief, pain, all these feelings surged through her as she fought the Shadowkind again and again. For every one that had fallen, another three would take it’s place. Soon enough, she was nearly drowning among them, but it wasn’t till she watched as one of their kind went to feast upon her brothers remains that she truly saw fire in her eyes. What happened after this she couldn’t explain, her hands had become crackling black energy that grew and grew every second, the shadows in the room seemed to be coming toward her, fueling the energy around her body till it was nothing but power. At first, the shadows that came toward her gave the room nothing but light, it shinned around them till the Shadowkind took a step back, blinded, then suddenly she felt something she had never before. All the energy in the room was coming toward her, and in a second the room was cold and black, filled with nothing but a horrid silence till all the energy released and sent a wave of power toward the Shadowkind before her. That surge of power had moved through the room and destroyed every Shadowkind in it‘s path, and within the few moments of peace she held, she had collected Aftons body, and disappeared into the shadows.

The following days were even more of a blur then the battle that had gone on prior. Adelina had paid sacrifice and prayer to every element, and god she had ever known. She drew upon powers she had never thought to have, and mixed herbs she thought would help in her spells. She was mixing magic, something her father had forbidden her to do, but in reality, she knew it had to be done at one point, what was a rule without it being broken. Her brothers entire body was offered as a sacrifice, instead of a square centimeter of skin, she gave the whole thing and herbs, in order to produce a healthy clone. She didn’t want this new body to be tied to her magic, she wanted the new body to be one of it’s own, to bring her brothers soul from the land of the dead, to that of the living in a new body. A raven, to open the portal between the two worlds. A clear quartz, to move the raw energy of his soul into that of the clone body. Black candles to fuel her necromancer magic. A mixture of hemlock surrounding the body, for without death there would be no life. This mixture of magic along with the calls of her chanting are what had brought him back. At first, she had failed, over and over again till she had nearly lost hope and all that rage she felt at the battle returned to her. She remembered her grief, and looked at his dead body as well as the clone, and cried out again and thought of everything she had lost. But as her rage grew, she felt that immense energy return to her, and with one more cry she chanted out and concentrated in nothing more than returning his soul to this new body. Again that flow of energy coursed through her, and she saw as her brothers lungs tried desperately to come back to life, felt his heart pump inside him as the blood began to flow. She had succeeded, and she cried again as she saw her brothers eyes open for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, and then she felt weak. Her eyes heavy, and then darkness. Throughout this, she only dreamed once. Serik was before her, angry at her use of magic, angry that she could have died for doing what she had done. In this fit of anger, he bound her powers, taking them forever to save her from those who had already killed so many. But when she woke, it is then that she realized it was not a dream, it had been real.

Adelina had spent the next two years preparing her revenge. Now completely overprotective of her brother she trained him daily on the use of his abilities. Every day was a schedule of training. She had moved them to a large family mansion on the outskirts of Russia, using most of their herbal supplies to lesson Afton in magic. She had trained him to only use enough magic for practice and keep them still in hiding. Since her powers were stripped, she taught him on pure instinct and trusted that he would know his own magical abilities and limits. She used the many rooms in the house for physical training, teaching him how to fight, let his new body learn to react and move. She taught his mind how to not only withstand pain, but enjoy it. He needed to remember the Necromancer in him, pull it from the plane of death onto this one. They had stayed all two years here, training till it hurt. Training till he was not only the Afton that died, but a better one.

It had only been when one of their herbal supply ran out that Adelina asked Afton to use the shadows to bring them to Los Angeles, near the old estate that would carry the herb. Once they had passed the barrier of old magic that protected them, and through the locked doors to which Adelina had a key, is when she heard the voices. From this distance, they were soft whispers, but she ordered her brother aside and made her way toward the sounds quietly. Grabbing the first weapon she saw, and moving toward the hall from where the voices came, those voices seeming so utterly familiar. Causing her memories to surface, and her face to contort in slight recognition. “Lora?” Her voice a small whisper.

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:58 pm

There was no need to over pack. What she didn’t have she could easily buy again or find at the Penthouse. The majority of her belongings were still trapped beneath the destruction of her home on Long Island. The structure had survived the carnage but the inside had been torn apart from top to bottom searching for any clue that would lead the Leopold’s to the last two remaining Enchanter siblings. They wouldn’t find much, and Lorelei had only visited briefly to pick up a few things she would need for her travels. Despite the destruction, the strong enchantments had remained intact and the house appeared untouched to the human eye. She could see differently, but the bodies of her cousins had not been among the wreck. At first she couldn’t understand why, no one would have known what had happened in the first place. It wasn’t uncommon for secret societies to clean up after themselves though to keep the outside world from discovering their dirty little secrets. Ultimately her bag had carried only a few changes of clothes, since she could no longer enchant her wardrobe to the style she was accustomed to. Once her clothes had been removed and stacked neatly beside the bag on the coffee table, she glanced down into the chaos that filled more than half of her traveling bag. There were candles, crystals, small carrying cases, amulets, a book or two, among the mass.

Blindly she reached inside and wrapped her lithe fingers around the cold barrel of the shotgun lying right on top of the pile. Expressionless, she inspected the gun and cocked the barrel just as Brayden would walk into the room. With one perfectly arched brow pointed towards the heavens, her head tilted slightly towards the side. “About time you showed up.” Nothing else was said as she carefully regarded the evoker standing before her. Like her, he no longer had the powers that were blessed upon them at birth. Yet, he had managed to cope with the situation and not lose part of himself in the process. She respected him, but she would never allow herself to become close with anyone. They had been friends once upon a time, but the time for friends was long passed. Lorelei had held her brother’s lifeless body in her arms, had watched her dear friend Adelina disappear, and Gavin had…breathing in deeply, she pushed those thoughts aside. In one swift motion, she cracked open the barrel to make sure it was empty before tossing the gun on the couch. The less Brayden knew the better. Without a second thought she tipped over the bag and dumped its contents across the low table. Everything scattered across the surface as she seemed indifferent to his reaction. “I’ve pretty much got it covered.”

He had witnessed the transformation in her and yet he hadn’t known the full extent of her pain. They may have lived through the same fate, but he couldn’t possibly comprehend the agony in which she dealt with each day. She bottled it up to the furthest depths of her soul as it had become tainted with each meaningless life she had taken. Brushing her hands against the rough material of her jeans, Lorelei would shrug out of her waist length leather jacket before tossing it alongside her shotgun. The enchantress kept herself busy despite the fact she could feel Brayden’s concerned gaze upon her. Without giving it another thought, she grabbed the tiny carrying case and unraveled the string wrapped around it. Falling neatly open in her hands she would slide the long five-inch dragger from its resting place before bending down to insert the steel blade in her boot, hidden by her pants. An identical one was placed in the compartment of her other boot. A loud succession of beeps filled the room as she reached inside her coat pocket to pull out her iPhone. Dragging her finger across the screen a news flash would blink across the screen. This was what she was waiting for. “We’ve got a lead.”

The news bulletin announced that a jewelry store on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills had been robbed less than a half hour ago. Digging into the pile, she fished out a hand gun and tossed it to Brayden. “What do you remember about Serik?” From her memories, Lorelei had known that the evoker had had the most contact with the Essentian. Serik’s body may have been destroyed, but Lorelei Ashford couldn’t believe that something with so much power could easily be eradicated. For two years she had followed a cold trail to here. This jewelry store could be the new lead she had been waiting for. Her powers could not be gone, she didn’t accept that fate. The arcanists had to move fast if they wanted the trail to remain warm. Deep down she knew Brayden had absolutely no idea what they were doing, but she couldn’t waste time. Hematite crystal glinted in the afternoon light as it encased cinnamon and patchouli herbs within its tomb. Taking hold of the string it was set upon, she dropped the heavy gem around her neck. “Are you coming? We haven’t got all day.” Frustration lingered in her tone as she threw few cases of shells into the bag and was about to send the shotgun along with it. She was all ready to go when…

It couldn’t be. The world around her blacked out as the deathly whisper drowned everything else out. Lips parted in astonishment, she could feel her fingers shake with dead uncertainty. There was no possible way! Through the door of her room, the ghosts of her past would stand before her unmoving. They were supposed to be dead! Dark hues swirled in confusion, but that was where her hesitancy ended. Gripping the handle of the shotgun in a death grip, she raised the point at the stranger with a face she had known since childhood. “Don’t you dare take another step closer!” It had to be a doppelganger, which was the only explanation she could come up with. After two years with no word from either of them, Lorelei refused to believe that they were standing just down the hall. Cold, unfeeling eyes would stare the imposters down as she kept the gun pointed in their direction.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 5:59 pm

Needless to say, the sight of Lorelei brandishing a shotgun in her hands had Brayden raising an eyebrow. Truth be told, he never thought that the Enchanter would pick up a firearm; from the earliest encounter with the Leopolds he could remember – which, in this case, was being taken from his home alongside Eli and the eldest children of the other Arcanist families – their weapons had consisted mostly of cold barrels aimed to kill. They had all been shuffled into a facility where hunters stood guard and threatened their life with those guns. As far as the Evoker knew, the Leopolds were still using their extended collection of shotguns to hunt. He would even gander that it was with their guns that the hunters had murdered their share of the Ashford family. It was shocking to see the brunette in front of him holding onto the gun and from Brayden’s eyes, it looked as if she was used to using it. Given, he didn’t know what the beauty did whenever they weren’t hunting together, but for some reason he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that perhaps she had used the weapon countless times in her battles. “Nice .. uh. Gun. I don’t know any cool kid lingo for it.” Maybe it was the thoughts of Lorelei hunting with the shotgun that had Brayden nervous, but maybe it wasn’t – whatever it was, it had him rambling like he usually did in situations like that.

The dagger that Lorelei unraveled didn’t come as much of a shock. That was more of his own style – with his powers gone, he had taken to using various kinds of daggers or swords that had previously belonged to his parents. He had managed to visit his old home some time after the escape from Florida, taking old artifacts and weaponry that had once been so precious to his parents. The house had haunted him with its silence – the two-story was only one of their houses, but it had been the one that the family had spent the most time at. He had spent most of his life growing up in that house, two doors down from his younger sister Cathrine, and one down from the expanded library that the Evokers kept dust-free. The enchantments on the house had been placed by various Arcanists, to protect the ancient books and other belongings of the Evoker family from being removed by non-Abrams blood, but thankfully the Abjuration barriers and the Ashford’s enchantments on the items didn’t apply to him. He was able to salvage what he wanted and still leave the rest if ever he needed to come back.

Catching the handgun that was tossed at him with a simple sweeping motion, his digits gingerly wrapped around the handle, the cool metal causing his flesh to tingle. Stepping inside the room instead of standing at the doorway, he made his way over to the bed. He wasn’t sure why Lora was handing him a gun though – she knew that the Shadowkind weren’t harmed by normal tools. The question that was directed to him about the former Essentian had his face dropping any sign of emotion, though his eyes betrayed him; if they could, they’d play out scenes of the both of them from two years ago. Brayden had been the closest to the protector of the Arcanists, though how close hadn’t been shared with too many. Serik was still a sore subject with the Evoker – he had grown closer to the being even when he tried not to and possibly when he wasn’t even wanted. That hadn’t been his plan. The Essentian had the doctor charmed, infatuated with the idea of a new person who seemed so disconnected from the mortal world. There were times where Brayden thought of Serik and they were filled with happiness, followed by remorse. He was gone now. If there was a way for him to be brought back, it was lost to the male’s mind. “I remember seeing him ruthlessly ripped apart in front of my eyes, moments after draining out the last bit of my powers.” And then there were times were the Evoker felt nothing but anger. He knew that the Essentian had only been helping, protecting the remaining Arcanists from being hunted down. Even still, all he had ever known had been taken from him and then eradicated whenever the blonde was destroyed – and thus began his life as a human. The thought still made him sick.

“Why do you want to know about Serik?” This wasn’t making much sense to him, though he felt he had a right to know just what they were going to be up to. He knew Lorelei wouldn’t have them on a wild goose chase, but Serik was gone.. wasn’t he? Stepping aside to make way for the hurried brunette, Brayden only nodded a response to her question. Before he could make a step to the door, however, the Enchantress had drawn out her shotgun and pointed it at the door, where two figures were now standing. Out of reaction, Brayden drew back, holding up his handgun and cocking it, the rough sound seemingly echoing in the tense silence. Brown eyes studied the two people, though it didn’t take him too long for the faces to register, pulling memories to the front of his mind as he recognized the pair. “Adelina?” His first instinct was a doppelganger; two must have crossed over and taken the form of the Necromancer siblings, and now they were standing in the doorway as if surprised to see Lora and him. Had they not expected anyone to be at the penthouse? How did they even know about it? Eyes scrutinized every inch of Adelina and Afton’s bodies, though he could find nothing out of the ordinary from what he remembered. He felt silly, holding up a cocked handgun as if he was used to using the serious weapon. Though he didn’t lower it, his eyes continued to study the two. Could it really be them?

Afton Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:01 pm

Death, some call it the ultimate adventure. The beginning in the end. Afton found it utter bullshit. Though he worked religiously in the teachings of necromancy, the actual act of dieing had never once settled well in his mind. Perhaps that was the allure he found in practicing the art form. Animating the deceased, calling upon the nether energies and claiming them as his own grew into an obsession. The thought sent a excitable jolt up his spine as he cast those eyes upon Adelina. The only reason for his existence, past and present lay to the command of that necromantic goddess. She had become more then a sibling to him, both maternal and to some extents companion. She’d returned him to the life he’d relished and never once had she asked for his gratitude. Casting the act off with a sneer and wave of her hand, throwing him into another session of training.

Two years.. Two wonderful years of isolation, of solitude with but the only entity that he’d ever felt those forbidden emotions for. Their sessions were vicious and he was expected to treat her often as an enemy. It was never uncommon for one of the other to suffer injuries as it did well to prepare the body for what was to come.

When the time came for the two to leave their sanctuary to restock, the anticipation that coursed through his mind was composed behind a mask. Void of anything resembling emotion, save for a murderous smirk that stalked across his lips occasionally he followed Adelina, quite possibly into the lower pits of hell. Los Angeles.. The City of Angels.. How ironic.

A hand swept up through dark hued locks as he moved quietly aside Ade. When she suddenly ordered him aside and moved to assess the sounds she heard, he became poised and rigid moving silently to keep himself hidden but yet close enough to touch upon her arm. The sound of voices gathered his attention yet were unfamiliar to him, seeming as he never paid much attention to any of the other Alchemists during their prime. Spidery fingers reached to lightly caress Adelina’s forearm, upon the smooth warm flesh he felt an unconscious seeping of dark magic’s from his finger tips unto her, as if attempting to lend her his powers should she need them.

Until called upon he remained stoic, his breaths calm and measured yet slightly burdened by the urge to protect her.

Adelina Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:03 pm

Two years of unknowing, isolation, and ruthlessness hadn’t accounted for something like this. There were so many things going through the mind of the Necromancer. Happiness, to see Lora, and Brayden, living, that she and her brother weren’t the only ones that had survived. Confusion, the feeling that these two people didn’t have to be Brayden or Lora at all, there were many types of magic that could do these things, a dark doppelganger could have easily done the trick. Anger, the sight of a gun slowly lifting before her, and the uncertainty that her brother would be safe. She had lost him once, and it would never happen again.

She made two quick movements in that one second in which both Lora and Brayden reacted: First, she pushed her brother behind her and mumbled in their Russian tongue for him to hide in the shadows. He was priority number one, if any type of action was to be exchanged, she would make sure Afton was not part of the crossfire. She was willing to die, as long as he lived. The second was to take out her own gun, a CZ-P06 and point it directly back at the unknown individuals before them.

“If you are who you appear to be, you well know that pointing a weapon at my family is not the smartest of things to do.” Two years in Russia had increased that Russian accent, and made her voice colder and with added monotone, eyes centered at Lora. When Afton went to touch at her arm, the Necromancer hissed. “Nyet, Afton, Nyet. Zashchity sebya.” No, Afton, No. Protect yourself. She wanted him in the shadows, and if she had to physically beat him there, she would. Those eyes were like honeyed blades, and she kept them on Lora, not because Brayden was of smaller threat, but because Lora knew her. She would know the Russian accent, the instinct to protect her brother, she knew Adelina and there weren’t many that did.

“The day the Behemoth came, we fought alongside one another. We watched your brother fall, and I held you while you grieved. Do not make me lose my own brother here among family.” Adelina was blindly speaking, in many ways she believed the families to be dead. She had already broken her own rules when not attacking when they rose their weapons, but the wanting for them to be alive kept her from shooting. She was giving blind trust to two unknown people before her, while still keeping her weapon unwavering.

“Lora. It’s Ade.”

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:03 pm

There had been many things the enchantress had seen in her time. Forced to reconcile a broken heart, all she could do was piece together the pieces as best she could and move forward. It was either that or waste away in agony. That was something she couldn’t afford to do no matter how broken she might have become. There was still so much evil out there, so many people still alive that were blind to the dangers at foot, and then there were those few haunting the shadows—the ones responsible for the deaths of her friends and family. They had to pay—they would all pay. With no one to really turn to, all she could do was rely on herself without the benefit of her powers. Brayden might have been alive but she wouldn’t allow him to travel the same path she had. He still had a future as a doctor, a chance to live a somewhat normal life even though they were accustomed to one that was very different. There would be no more hiding, no more running. While she might not have been mentally fit, she was physically fit and determined. Lorelei Ashford needed no one to help her out. There were no friends to depend on—only herself. That cold emptiness inside consumed every shred of innocence she had. No real smiles, no practical jokes, no laughter. The sole Ashford was a shadow herself, a mask of what once was.

Yet, here was her dilemma. Serik was difficult to find, let alone take on by herself. He hadn’t just taken her powers; he had taken Brayden’s as well. “Double barrel shotgun.” Short sentences and to the point—this was the new Lorelei. She didn’t have time to worry about his reaction to her transformation. They had a job to do and once it was over, she could just slip back into her isolation without a care. Or so she thought at least. The gun she had tossed him had the safety clicked on so he wouldn’t accidentally fire the loaded weapon. It wasn’t in his style but he had to be prepared. Weapons were useless against an Essentian but they still needed some form of protection against whatever else was following their mark. While they might not have had their powers, Serik would still have his, which meant there would be any number of shadowkind in between them and their destination. The two ex-arcanists had to be ready and prepared and Brayden still had no idea exactly what they were doing. He probably assumed it was another one time job. Whatever hesitation or unresolved feeling the evoker had, she expected him to deal with them. They would be searching for Serik, and the likely hood they would all stand face-to-face was there. She couldn’t believe that he was dead. “That doesn’t really help Abrams, what did you know about him? Habits? Traits? Things like that.” A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she sent him a slight aggravated glare. They would get nowhere at this pace.

There would be no time to dally. Lorelei couldn’t let another opportunity slip by as every muscle in her body tensed. That voice triggered the faintest memories she spent so many years burying. It called out to a part of her that had died but refused to awaken or believe that this was actually reality. It was easier to assume that two doppelgangers had taken on their forms just to screw with their minds. How had they gotten into the Penthouse though? How was it possible they even knew they were here to begin with? The looks on the familiar yet foreign faces had been just as surprised as Brayden and Lorelei had been. What the hell was going on! Mentally shaking her head and gripping the barrel tightly, she didn’t react other than raise her gun. She hesitated. Something she hadn’t ever done. What if…

No! Biting down on her lower lip as she shifted the barrel point between them once, to land back on the woman who looked exactly like her best friend. She couldn’t even think the name, for fear the image would disappear in front of her very eyes. Her jacket still lied strewed on the couch beside her. There were no shells in the gun yet neither had known that. The crystal around her neck was a heavy reminder of her past. One finger curled around the trigger but refused to squeeze. All her focus and attention was on the one person standing before her as she tried to shield the brother. The enchantress was literally jerked from her focus by those dark swirling hues that were drowning in her one green emeralds when the familiar Russian accent descended upon her. A deep intake of breath would be the only reaction they would have as the barrel point dropped an inch from its mark. “You can’t be real…you’re dead!” Lorelei was having an inner battle, she wanted it to be true but years of isolation had awakened her to the reality of what this war really was all about. She was practically visibly shaking. Hesitation mounted as she almost took a step closer.

Afton Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:04 pm

A soft utterance of growl, a bit more feral then should leave a human throat, did. A lovers caress the sensation that embraced him as the shadows rose up and consumed him. Nothing but the haunting glow of those golden eyes remained and even in moments that too faded. Adelina sought his protection and he'd not spit at her sacrifice to appease his own pride and arrogance. Rather, a hand slipped effortlessly back, slender fingers wrapping around the hilt of a secretive weapon and withdrew it. Exposing the three foot blade, he waited for something, anything to direct the course of his actions. If Adelina fell, those two became mortal enemies and would face the full wraith of his sustained powers..

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:05 pm

The sound of his last name practically being spat out of the former Enchanter’s mouth made him want to vomit. Over time, his surname had twisted into a melancholy remembrance of failures and mistakes. It stood as a memoir of a past that he couldn’t erase, no matter how many times he tried to scrub it free from his mind. The feelings that washed over him as the word was spoken had his breath hitched, Brayden finding it hard to breathe – almost like he was drowning. And no matter how many times he tried to swim to the surface, the ghosts of his dead bodies drug him deeper into the liquid. He was nothing more than an unlucky failure – he had managed to shame the Abrams name and had been unable to save his siblings from their deaths. He couldn’t save Eli. He hadn’t arrived in time to protect Alec. Alison had fallen in battle and Brayden had been too late to help her; even her body had been taken from him. Brayden had even failed his parents; the two people who sacrificed everything they had to try and save their family from the destruction the Shadowkind had wrought.

He wanted to help Lorelei, but he had no understanding as to why she was asking the questions she was. The thoughts that began to run through his head had him somewhat exhilarated; had a new Essentian finally been called? Had Lorelei been tracking him as a means to recovering their powers? All in all, the Evoker thought it somewhat silly. If indeed a new Essentian had been chosen, would there even be a way to get their powers back? What if the Ancients didn’t see it fit for them to be given their gifts? They had failed two years ago – what made them different now? Of course there were a lot of things that had divided the two Arcanists from their selves two years prior, but did it make them worthy? Perhaps Brayden was worrying over nothing. He had no reason to jump to conclusions; but if a new Essentian had been called, he wanted in. And he wanted the old one back.

“He’s a hoarder. He mostly kept to himself, but I know that he’s a collector. Treasure, valuables; not in an ‘I’ll rob your home’ kind of way, but if it’s valuable, he wants it. Serik always reminded me of a leprechaun.” Not so much because of a height factor – the Essentian had been a tad taller than he, anyway – but because he was so protective so his belongings; like a leprechaun was his gold. Lo and behold, the rambling was back. To say the topic made the Abrams a tad uneasy was somewhat of an understatement; had Brayden rattled off questions about Gavin to his friend? No, but that would’ve brought way too much baggage out and into the open, and honestly, he believed the Enchantress would have shot him on the spot if he so much as hiccupped something similar to the first syllable of the dead Conjurers name. So he didn’t do it for the sake of his own life, of course. “He’s gone. I know that much.”

The voices that reached his ears bewildered the male. There before him stood the last remaining members of the Necromancer kin. Hadn’t they perished in the battle of the Estate? To be fair, he had been unconscious after his own overload, but the two hadn’t traveled to Florida. Eyes settled on glowing yellow hues that lurked in the shadows, and the faint glimpse of a silver blade caught his eye. If this wasn’t resolved soon – doppelganger or not – the penthouse would get very bloody, very fast. Unsure of what to think, Brayden clicked the safety back into place on his handgun, lowering the metal just a bit. The sight before him was too eerie for his own tastes, but the two figures in front of him – as shrouded as one was in the shadows – seemed as if they could be just as harmful as Lorelei and he could be. Stuck between believing the two to actually be the Kromans and not knowing what to do if it weren’t them, the male glanced at his friend. It seemed everything laid between her and the Necromancer, from the way that Adelina’s eyes focused on her.

Serik Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:06 pm

THE SEARCH FOR SHINY THINGS;
SERIK’S HAVEN, NEAR THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN.

Dust from under the wheels of the classy sports car barely settled when the essentian descended into the burrow leading to his lair. Several golden shimmers glistened across the extension of the cave serviced by numerous candles reflecting off his treasure trove. Serik nonchalantly tossed the diamond necklace into a gold leaf basin near a throne. The large exotic furniture and rare items belonged to different eras and countries and yet shared one special feature. They were expensive!

The assembly of coins at his feet seemed out of place, and there wasn’t one scrap that he hadn’t memorized. Silky slender digits snaked around the hilts of matching rapiers with exquisite ruby accents. The beings arose from their hiding spots flailing grimy weapons. Serik backed up into the sandy cave clearing attempting to keep the brutality away from his prized possessions. The Kreelocks moved in a uniform manner that insinuated they were prepared for this confrontation. An archer taking cover near a large mirror attempted to catch the arcane protector in his scope; but Serik twirled one of the swords in his palm and tossed it like a javelin into the snipers chest twisting his monstrous form against the impact.

Growls escaped the essentian’s lips as he met with two attackers. The horde footman jerked his sword back and drove the point en route to his victim’s head. Serik countered with his roguish blade diverting the destination of the attack. Then in quick succession he held the weapon towards the ground while the shaft halted a second blow from an opposite enemy. Suddenly flanked from three sides he carefully chose his actions to defend the blows of each Kreelocks. When an opening presented itself he gouged the skull of one foe, and almost took a hit struggling to release the blade from his victim’s head. The blood-soaked tool whirled around to meet metal sparking on collision. Serik kicked one of the remaining two disarming the being in the process, while accidentally leaving a vulnerable moment. The beast grazed his thigh with his sword, while the essentian screamed in distress. With bloodlust in his eyes he combated the remaining two with fury slicing faces, throats, and chests with remarkable speed.

He held his stance looking around the room for any more enemies. It was unfamiliar to see such a small grouping surely they didn’t underestimate the essentian. Serik breathed heavily and hissed as he walked over to the archer. He grabbed the being by the throat and squeezed to garnish attention. “What do the dark sisters want with me?”

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:09 pm

It was for his own good, for her own good—that’s what she had been telling herself these past two years. The less he knew the better; the safer he would be. At least then one of them would survive. There was no point to her life anymore; just endless killing that would continue her warpath of revenge. Porcelain hands had been stained with crimson blood as the sticky substance of the Leopold Hunters tainted them. She no longer remembered the countless faces; they were all simply a blur. Men and women had fallen at her feet as the mercilessly cut them down one by one without a care or thought. Lorelei had done exactly what they had done to the people she cared about most. While the Leopolds did not stand with the shadowkind, their actions aided their enemies. How could the Hunters ever think that they could stand up and defend the earth against a ruthless and vindictive race? The arcanists could barely hold their own, and that was with powers. Nevertheless, quick work was made of them. If any survived, the enchantress would eventually find them and kill them on sight.

Brayden, despite living the same horror she had, still had a good heart. He still had a place in the world. The evoker deserved that much of a life. Yet, once the arcane siblings regained their powers, they would light up like a Christmas tree and every shadowkind within a fifty-mile radius would be able to sense them. She was prepared for that, her destiny to die with the others had been taken from her. He didn’t have to be apart of it, but she couldn’t track Serik without him. She needed him because he was the only one who could truly point out the essentian. C’est la vie; that was life. “That sounds like our mark…” A hoarder. While there was no proof, she relied on her gut. This had to lead to him. She wouldn’t accept defeat.

Her piercing emerald gaze darted from one face to the other. The gun wasn’t loaded, but they didn’t know that. The loud ticking sound of the grandfather clock would echo loudly in her ears, drowning out her thoughts. Neither attacked the other—this was pointless. A low, unladylike growl would fill the room as she pumped the barrel. They couldn’t afford to stand there like statues while the ticket to her powers was just beyond her grasp. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but we have business to attend to.” Glancing between the Necromancer siblings, she took a bold step forward, gun aimed to shoot as she reached down to grab the strap of her bag and toss it over her shoulder. “So, if you know what’s good for you…you’ll back away slowly and stay in front of us so we know you won’t try anything funny.” Or she could kill them on spot. Her leather jacket rested on top of the bag as she tried to stuff it inside. “Brayden, keep an eye on the boy.”

Lorelei and Adelina had been rivals and best friends; it was only natural she had come to know Afton. He was Adelina’s younger brother after all. She couldn’t allow her feelings or their faces to cloud her better judgment. This was war and she already lived through losing them once. They were dead to her. Whoever the imposers were would wish they never crossed that threshold. With each step, she would close the distance between them.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:10 pm

Things were going to spiral out of control if something wasn't done about the situation that was rapidly unfolding in front of him. He hadn't ever been great at stake-out situations, and this was turning into something faintly similar -- both parties were waiting for the other to make a move, and when one was made, it would seemingly determine just how the stakes were going to be raised. The cool metal of the handgun against his palm sent a shiver down his spine, the tickle causing a small tremor down his body. The scene was almost too creepy, as if he had been through something similar before -- wait, no, but he had seen a movie once, and he definitely didn't want to end up shot and and on the ground, bleeding while the other three duked it out. And Adelina was looking pretty fierce over there; the Evoker had no doubt she'd pull the trigger with no hesitation if Lorelei provoked her any further.

Something was causing Lorelei to hesitate, though Brayden was silently thankful for it. If she suspected the other two to be doppelgangers with no hope of them being the former Arcanists, then he thought she would have definitely shot by now. That is, if she wasn't bluffing. But by the look on her face and the ferocity that seemed to ooze from her being, he was definitely fooled if she was. He wanted this to all work out; for the two beings in front of them to actually be who they claimed. Adelina had demanded Afton stay hidden in the shadows, protecting him; if they were Shadowkind, they wouldn't be taking that precaution, would they? He had run into some seriously weird stuff, but even the doppelganger that tried posing as his brother Alec hadn't kept his image up this long. That memory had him shaking his head, and as Lorelei stepped forward with her gun, so did he, tossing the handgun onto the bed. Maybe he was making a grave mistake, maybe he was solving this once and for all . Maybe he had left the oven on back at his apartment, even though he thought he could remember turning it off.

Digits pushed down the barrel of the shotgun, keeping it aimed away from the Russian siblings. "Lorelei, stop being so rash." Turning to face Adelina, he hoped the woman didn't take any drastic measures as he spoke. "Clover Mayfield. A contact lens. What do you remember about that day?" He never was one to break the tension in the air, but the name of the deceased Abjurer would certainly flood their minds with memories -- and, hopefully, the memory of when Adelina and Lorelei tortured the easy girl with a spider together. It would give them both a sense of nostalgia, where they were friends and not at each other's throats. If this girl was Adelina, then she'd remember pranking the Abjurer, where a doppelganger would have no such recollection.

Adelina Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:11 pm

Everything was quickly escalating downward. First, she still felt threatened with Afton. Even if he was hidden in the shadows she wasn’t sure if he was fully protected. She needed him to leave, and not return unless he felt it was right. So with another mumble underneath those pale pink lips, she demanded that he leave the estate, and return within a week. If this turned bad, he could come collect her remains and bury her properly within that time frame… but if these people are who she hoped they were, well then he would be able to come home, wouldn’t he?
She had reached out to Lora twice now, and the more she hoped for a response from her old friend, she received none.

She was looking at a glass woman, reflecting everything at which Lora was but in reality, she was cold, a reflection of what she was. She looked almost hurt, and broken. Those once rosy cheeks which Lora once held were no longer filled with color. She looked drained, two years might as well have been twenty for she wore her families deaths on her lovely face. A burden at her heart, which left a forever aching burn. But besides all this, she knew those eyes. They were children when they became such close friends, and such fiery rivals. She knew those eyes, and besides the hatred in her heart she could see the girl she knew underneath tired lids. She was once again going to speak when Lora began to make demands once again, and in an instant her finger went to pull the trigger - till Brayden spoke.

He trusted her. He must have seen the same thing within her, that she saw in Lora. She began to ignore Lora now, if it came down to a fight, then so be it; but her eyes shifted to him and those usually black pools seemed a light shade of viridian. It took a moment for her to process his words, he was stopping Lora, and now he put the Necromancer to the test.

She had to open every memory she had buried within her. “Clover Mayfield.” A twisted smile came to creep upon those soft lips as she took a moment to remember the Arcanist. “We used a spider to frighten and nearly torture the girl.” A small chuckle which was barely audible between her lips. She hadn’t laughed in such a long time - she had almost forgotten what it was like. “Always devious we were.” Those thick accented words stopped before she thought of the next story, unfolding before her eyes like a movie. “Poor Gavin, I’ve never seen someone have to look between the crevices of a woman’s breasts for a missing contact. She was a silly girl.”

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:11 pm

The enchantress couldn’t understand why she was hesitating. It was very unlike her—usually she was act first and ask questions later. It was either kill or be killed. That was the world she grew up in, and that’s the sort of life she had led for the past two years. How else was she supposed to react when she was literally faced with the ghosts of her past? They were supposed to be dead, should have been dead. If they were alive all this time, wouldn’t they have found some way to get in contact with them? Protocol was to head to the safe houses in Florida, so why hadn’t they followed? And while Serik had stripped them of their powers, wouldn’t he have at least informed them if there were still other arcanists about? None of it made any sense. A part of her called out to the shadows of her past—she wanted them to be real. She had spent the last two years locking up every single memory and burying them deep down so they would never escape. How else was she supposed to survive? She was torn between her past self and the hunter she had become. Adelina was in her past—no one knew her better than the Necromancer…except maybe one other. Biting down on her lower lip, long, heavy lashes would fall over emerald hues. Taking in a deep breath to try and calm her racing thoughts, Lorelei held on to the trigger but didn’t squeeze.

Despite the fact that no shells were packed into the steel barrels, her index finger held tight. Before she could even take another step towards them, Brayden pushed the shotgun down. Eyes wide as if pulled from her mind, she found her subconscious speaking through him. “What do you think you’re doing?” She was surprised it had taken him this long to react, but Brayden was no longer just paper on the wall in the background. Her voice may have come off as sharp, but it didn’t hold the same edge it had before. Lorelei was softening. Her eyes rolled towards the heavens as he would question the Necromancer; there was no time for games. The trail would grow cold soon if the arcanists didn’t act quickly.

The laugh caught her by surprise, as a brow would rise. Her heart pounded against her chest as the memory of their prank replayed before her. A cold sweat would form on the back of her neck. The shotgun remained at her side as she looked on the woman standing before her with new light. It was as if she were actually seeing her for the first time. “It’s really you…” Turning to look at the figure standing behind her, she would look at him as well. “Afton?” This was all almost too much to process for the enchantress—but it was really them. Her pulse raced as she unconsciously found herself closing the distance. She wanted to reach out, hold them, and make sure it wasn’t just an illusion playing tricks on them.

Yet, there would be more time for that later. “Brayden and I have a job to work on, there’s been a burglary nearby we need to check out. You both should probably come with us…” Why they should was another matter entirely.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:12 pm

Brayden listened to those Russian words and had to hold back a smile as he did so. The memories that were incorporated with the Azoth Estate mostly brought back all of the times that were shared there, and this particular memory had been one to muse on and laugh about. The Head of Abjuration had definitely been a character, and you either loved her or loved to hate her – most people were on the hating side of the fence, but Brayden had been somewhat indifferent. Sure, he hadn’t exactly liked the girl, but she was good to joke about, so that was something.

Lorelei had questioned his motives whenever he had lowered her gun and stepped in the firing range, but he didn’t pay her any attention. This had been the only way that Brayden could think of to test the accountability of Adelina, if she was who she was posing to be. Afton had slinked off into the shadows and for the moment hadn’t been heard. Had he really disappeared like Ade had told him to, or was he still lurking within them like he had done so many times before? The Necromancers always had a gift of surprise that was attributed with their powers, and Brayden had always secretly been jealous. He thought it’d be pretty cool to teleport, or move to places through the shadows. And then, it hit him. “Wait, Afton still has his powers?”

Lorelei was quick to process what she had to, though thankfully it was the realization that it was in fact her friend that stood before her. Brayden was all for happy reunions, but they didn’t seem to come too often in the Arcanists’ world. She stepped forward to follow through on her case, and with a small small towards the petite Russian girl, Brayden fell into step behind her. Whatever it was that Lorelei was tracking had her so deeply wrapped into the case that he knew it was a very important matter. How Serik tied into this was all still a mystery to him, but he was beginning to put the pieces together. Maybe the Enchantress thought a new Essentian had been called. That would definitely not sit well with the Evoker at all – unless that meant they could get their powers back.

Afton Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:13 pm

It was no sooner then the girl lowered her weapon that the shadows about him stirred restlessly, moving forth in which to partially obscure Adelina in a mist of darkness. Afton had yet to acknowledge the words Adelina had spoken as if either he did not hear them, or chose not to at this exact moment. With a gentle flutter, Adelina’s hair wisped to her right shoulder from the motion of his hand, and in this motion that obsidian blade upon the outstretch of his arm leveled it’s tip with the bridge of Lori’s nose. Doppelganger, Wraith, Arcanist; They could all burn in the deepest bowels of hell for all he cared, so long as Adelina was safe. From the depths of consuming shadow came the building issuance of a growl, both mournful and ominously stern.

A warning..

That carefree youth from ages past no longer existed in the shell of the man protecting his exalted predecessor and sibling. Even through the depth of pitch a dark energy visibly surged from those increasingly void eyes, Handsome features twisted into ireful sneer as his thoughts shifted between his sister and the to persons that; mind you, he recognized from bygone days. Regardless of the past, things had spiraled out of control and people like himself and Adelina had been killed due to their idiotic carelessness.

A risk he was unwilling to take and as it stood, he held the winning hand against the duo of has-beens at his sword’s tip.

Adelina Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:14 pm

It had been a long time since any reunion had come between them, so when Lora brushed the meeting aside and mentioned the burglary it seemed that this burglary situation was something not to be pushed aside for even this type of situation. Adelina knew the Enchanter well, and knew that if there was something that needed to be addressed it would become priority. So with that, the Necromancer nodded. It took a second for her to process Brayden’s question, and when the shadows around her expanded she realized that Afton was revealing his abilities more than he needed.

“He never lost them.” Said with a bit of a snap to show that it was something not to be questioned. It took half a second for Afton’s weapon to be pointed at Lora for Ade to curse toward him in that Russian tongue. “Afton.” She hissed and her eyes turned from their usual viridian tone to a black abyss. Her fingertips came to his arm and she pulled it down regardless of it’s stiffness. “They are who they say they are, an imposter would not have the memories that they have.” Her eyes were like honeyed blades, she appreciated the protection he was providing, the disregard for his heart, and cold action.. He was what he needed to be. A fighter. But this was not the time nor place, they were among family.

“Your blade, is not needed here.” She forced the blade away from Lora’s face and anywhere near the two before them. And again, those Russian words were spoken, soft for only Afton to hear. She was thanking him, and telling him she was proud for being the fighter he needed to be, but that it was unnecessary here.
“Where ever you need us to be Lora, we will go.”

Afton Kroman Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:16 pm

In the soft utterance of a foreign tongue, a deep rumble of voice. Afton proclaimed his distaste for the emotions she showed for the woman, of whom his eyes glared upon with such rage. If looks could kill, Lori would most certainly be dead. Never the less it was not his way to question Adelina's wisdom or motive, there was always something rolling around in that dark mind of hers, as he'd come to caller her the master strategist. So it was that his sword was lowered by Adelina's hand, but yet had it found its way back into the oblivion from wince it came. The electrical crackle of dark energy sustained it's ferocity for all of a moment before dissipating into nothing, those black eyes shifting to a cruel mixture of both black and gold as still he regarded the pair before him as pests by which those eyes told he humored the thought of dealing with eventually.

Lorelei Ashford Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:16 pm

Like all reunions, eventually they had to come to an end. The arcanists couldn’t afford to dally around while their powers and Serik were still out there. There was absolutely no way she would continue on for another two years without the familiar feel of mana flowing through her veins. She didn’t crave power per se, even though such abilities could be addicting if overly used. Lorelei Ashford had been born as an Enchanter—a part of her had been ripped away the moment Serik had drained her. Half of her was missing and she had yet to fully adjust to the changes. When everything in life had come easy, it was difficult to simply live life as another normal human being. There was nothing normal about her existence. Her days were spent hunting down and tracking the nightmares that haunt people at night. Since she was a little girl, she had been a target. The Leopolds had even managed to capture the arcanist children and steal them away from their homes. Many would consider their lives charmed, but in reality they were cursed.

Lorelei dealt with the consequences though and managed not to lose her direction. That was thanks in part to her stubborn nature, which only grew the more time she spent alone—relying on no one but herself. All her life she had been pampered and trained by her family. William had always kept an eye on her, despite the fact she didn’t need a babysitter. He had his own sister to look out for and she could take care of herself. Michael on the other hand had always been self-serving, yet family always did come before everyone. His problem was he didn’t trust anyone, and God only knows, he was probably right. Had she made a mistake two years ago? It was in the past now, and their next actions were critical. The past would remain buried where it belonged. Part of her was dead; but that part weighed heavily the more she listened to the alien Russian accents.

Carefully eyeing the now grown man before her, Afton indeed still had his powers. She didn’t flinch as emerald hues eyed down the point of the sword carefully. He may have changed, and while he could overpower her for the simple reason those abilities still remained, Lora wasn’t scared. The slightest trace of a harden glare would be directed towards the necromancer. “You’d be wise to be more careful with that toy.” They may have been friends once, but two years could change people. Especially when one thought those particular friends were dead. Adelina had interjected before any bout could occur and she nodded in acquiescence. Lingering doubts still remained but her buried soul had won out. She still didn’t completely trust them and yet the more aid in their search, the more likely their goal would be met. “Now if we’re done playing…”

Words trailed off as she sidestepped both necromancers as she walked past them towards the front door of the penthouse. The jewelry store was located on Rodeo Drive, which wasn’t far from their current location. Any provisions that were needed could easily be grabbed along the way. Everything she needed was in the duffle bag resting on her shoulder. The crystal hanging against her chest would reassure her as heat spread through every pore.

The unchosen left the penthouse as they made their way to the scene of the crime. Lorelei would insist on going in alone as the others waited for her. Most of the police activity inside had diminished and only the store clerk and manager remained. She produced a badge for identification and proceeded to question the witnesses; it had only taken a half hour to obtain all the information she needed. The man had come in with an eye for jewels. The clerk had shown him the items, assuming the items would be for a wife or girlfriend. With a credit card handed over and the items tucked away in a tiny little bag held by the perpetrator, he simply walked out before anyone could stop him. Thinking back to the earlier conversation, Brayden had mentioned that Serik was a hoarder. The description and the surveillance tapes though did not match which her own memories of the essentian. It would seem they had hit another dead end, yet something in her gut told her to keep going on. Walking out of the store, she glanced at the assembled group before her. “The credit card was stolen from someone in this area only yesterday, so he has to be somewhere nearby. Anyone have a map of some kind?”

The surrounding area was full of commercial life, with the Pacific Ocean to the west and hills and lake to the southeast. Outside the city limits, there were any number of places a person could hide. “Brayden I need you to think, what sort of place would Serik hide out in if he were hiding?” Looking towards the evoker, Lorelei knew he had no idea what point she was trying to reach. Hopefully he would catch on. The last thing she wanted was for him to get his hopes up. It felt like a lifetime for the enchantress as she had been searching for Serik all this time.

Deep down, she knew the arcanists couldn’t be the only ones searching for him. With powers like Serik’s, shadowkind would absolutely love to get their hands on him. She may not have been too keen on helping the essentian, but as long as he had the ability to return them back to their original state, Lorelei would make sure no one else got there before they had.

Brayden Abrams Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:17 pm

The scene that he was engrossed in seemed to be playing on as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of it. This had become a normal routine for him: watch as the events surrounding him took place, and feel despondent as whatever happened between individuals played out. His life was devoid of any attachments he could live without, thanks to the events that had lead up to the current day. Lorelei Ashford was still his concern, and with time, so would be the last two remaining original Arcanists. For now though, they would have to work on gaining his trust – while they hadn’t done anything to harm him, as well as him trusting that they were who they said they were, he had only come to rely on one individual.

Brayden watched with still eyes as Afton raised his blade to the bridge of the Enchantress’ nose. Hadn’t they all just lowered their weapons? He understood the Necromancer’s concern, but the hostility wasn’t needed any longer. With Adelina convincing him to desist his threat, the Evoker felt reassured with his decision to have stepped in between the two girls earlier. The Kroman family seemed to be who they were saying themselves to be, and Adelina’s whispers to her younger brother seemed to be a familiar representation of what might have happened two years ago. The time may have passed and hardened the hearts of those who were stripped of who they once were, but there were some things that rested within all of them that wouldn’t wither with age. Lorelei’s compassion for her friends seemed to have remained the same, whether she would admit to it or not. He knew the girl would fight for him if needed be, and her willingness to trust in him and in the words of the Russian girl (however reluctant at first) reinforced his belief.

“How,” was whispered, albeit to himself, the Abrams man attempting to question why Afton’s powers remained intact. It was obvious that the Essentian hadn’t stripped him of his gifts, but the question of why ringed throughout Brayden’s ears. Why did he still have mana pulsing through his veins? Why had he escaped the Essentian’s depowering, when Lorelei, Adelina, and even himself hadn’t? Had he spent these past two years fighting Shadowkind, since he wasn’t (forcefully) given the protection from their pursuit? Lorelei’s voice pulled him from his reverie, snapping him into attention once more. They had a job to do.

He walked beside the brunette, avoiding the memories that threatened to creep into his mind as he passed the statue on his way out. With Lorelei insisting she go in alone once they got there, Brayden stayed outside, underneath the shade that the rooftop provided. The jewelry store was next to a small bookshop, and while Lorelei spent her time inside, the man mused at the titles that were on display outside. “People read some weird stuff these days.” On the shelves outside, there were books with topics ranging from karma sutra to horse voodoo that would keep someone young. Children’s books aligned the top, and thick, trashy beach novels were placed on the bottom. Picking up one medium-sized title, he flipped it over to read the back, but was interrupted by Lorelei walking out.

“I don’t have a map, but if none of us have one, I’m sure we could just buy one somewhere.” They weren’t too expensive, and with Los Angeles being a major city, he was sure that a tourist shop was set up somewhere; they would be selling maps of the area, if nowhere else was. Lorelei barely let him breathe before she asked him another question about Serik. By now, the name wasn’t even fazing him. If Lorelei wanted to be on a wild goose chase, who was he to stop her? If she were on to something, though, it’d be benefitting him and Adelina as well, so he didn’t put a fight before answering her question. “Well, he used to joke about keeping his things in a safe haven – which was a cave, to him. It seems a bit prehistoric, but if he was serious, then that’d probably be a similar place for someone like him to hoard their stuff.”

Flipping the book in his hands over in an attempt to read the premise on the back, he cleared his throat. It didn’t seem to be anything spectacular. He placed it back in its place on the shelf, chuckling as he spotted the book beside it. “Sam Breyand? That’s a funny last name.” He picked the book up, lifting it to his level. “Serik published a few books. I always thought that was interesting.” He flipped through the pages, before casting an upward glance towards the three that were still in front of him. He wasn’t trying to waste their time, but there was something about the current book in his hands that had him hooked. He didn’t have time to buy it, either; that would definitely be a big no-no in Lorelei’s book. “That’s funny. Breyand is an anagram of Brayden.”

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