Dancing Children, pt. 2

"Oh no you don't," she said, grabbing the instrument. She took his oversized collar and threw him up against a wall, making a point to put the pole against his voice box. "No music, no hypnotizing, and that's final." Hamelin began chuckling. His voice was almost as annoying as the damn flute, but it was infinitely more tolerable. That sound would keep her from falling asleep like, as he said, a giant.

"You think you're the first to come to and threaten me? You are one more sleeper, and your dear little sister is coming along for the ride." He was suddenly across the room, next to Kirsa and playing his tune again. The three were facing each other then and Maran realized that the man was playing to her sister, who was sporting a chipper smile on her face as she approached her elder. Maran's grip on the pole loosened for a second, even though the look was creepy as hell, and Kirsa took it easily into her hand.

Then it swung upwards. An impact on her chin. Maran fell to her back and Kirsa lunged forward with the splintered end coming down towards her face. Rolling out of the way at the last second, the sound of splintering wood followed as Kirsa's blow damaged the wood floors. Crap! On her feet again, Maran reached at the flailing weapon and caught it with a few of her fingers. Kirsa gleamed with happiness and pulled the post straight back, causing splinters to dig into her sister's hand. She let out a short howl and grabbed the smooth end of the stick, injury noted and surpassed. The pain was a reminder that it wasn't really necessary to stop when hurt. Kirsa slid away before Maran could punch her, being evasive with a playful streak. It wasn't a bad idea, just highly inconvenient for the older of the two. Before she could step forward again, the post came flying from the side, clocking Maran in the temple. She cursed and walked to the side of the room. The pain was immediate and prolonging and she wanted it to stop Now!

Her little sister began to walk to the back porch. When Hamelin's sound began to carry again, Maran punched the wall and began to lose feeling in her feet. Her body fell against the wall, sliding downwards while Kirsa stepped over her crouched form to skip out of the house. Hamelin began to laugh, his playing losing grip on her very slowly as his laughter turned to a hypnotizing song.

"Giant, giant, sleepy sleepy giant," he teased.

Fall asleep, hit the ground,

make sure you don't come around,

fight and cry and scream and wail,

let me know who's set to sail,

leave your homes and follow me,

right into the deep deep sea.

He trailed off as his laughter started up again, and the door slammed as Kirsa left the cooling house into the freezing outdoors. Maran knew she had to get up and follow, had to keep her sister from disappearing because of a crazy out in the world. Her legs were still numb and her head hurt like it should have, but she somehow found the energy to force their movement, staggering almost drunkenly to the back door to trail them. Her hand grabbed a blanket before bolting out the door, and something told her she would need it by the end of the night. If she were smart, she'd take the cell phone from her mother's den, but then again, if she were smart, she'd not try to call 9-1-1 and tell the police that her sister had been abducted by a magical creature bent on stealing her sister and doing who knows what.

The cell phone stayed in the den, she ran out the door at a dangerous speed. The short man, Hamelin, was turning out to be more trouble than he was worth, and as he led Kirsa away, two more doors shut in the distance. Who the hell wanted to leave their homes at this hour simultaneously? Stalker, pharmacologist, ransom, kidnapper, pedophile, tons of bad things to happen to innocent children in the dead of night, but this was a list of things Maran thought the man could've been.

But to explain the way the flute could stop her and remove kids from their homes—in this day and age!—still confused her. Maran knew with what she'd experienced so far tonight, her options were winding down and she'd have to accept a truth before the sun rose, be it an alarming discovery or a case of influenza. Kirsa began skipping East towards 7th & Maple, and the two who just exited their homes in order to follow the flutist music in a similar fashion. Maran had to know if she was facing something new, and as the cold air hit her face she had one thought going through her mind, Let the little bastard have the kid, it's too cold to chase after her. Part of her was completely fine with that one, only because she didn't want to go to the bay area, which seemed to be a highly possible destination.

She followed the small, cheering crowd down the street, and Hamelin appeared by a door. The door opened and a child answered with such enthusiasm. The music played louder, causing Maran to shut her eyes tight in order to concentrate. It was so intoxicating. She hobbled along after her sister, blind, and when the music faded so did the drunken feeling. Breaking off into a run, Maran pushed past a slew of dancing children that just appeared at a crossroad, Hamelin in the lead. She caught up with him in little time, trying to figure out the craziness of this situation before something bad happened.

They were heading towards the bay, and with mystified children unable to think on their own, it was probable that he was planning something massive to compensate for his loss, whatever that was. The water was well below swimming temperature, and Maran had to think fast before something drastic happened and they were all in deep trouble. There were things even she'd allow, like a joy walk around the city.

"Waitaminute. I need you to clear something up really quick. I can see you're a busy midget so I'll keep it to a minimum. You're a flutist who claims to have cleaned up an infestation and went unpaid. In response, you made the children of the city disappear. That's something out of a fairy tale. . . it doesn't happen in Real Life!" She grabbed his shoulder, turned him to face her.

"Of course it happens, giant, it's a true story."

"No it isn't! That had mystical crap and rats, a whole messload of people not paying up for something they saw coming. This isn't like that. You're just stealing kids and what? Training them to play follow-the-leader?" Hamelin giggled, actually giggled. Maran wanted to take a grip of his neck and squeeze as hard as she could. Why she didn't was beyond her but there was crazy logic all around tonight. When the laughter quieted down again, Hamelin approached her and drew her closer to his height with a wiggle of his finger. He made complete eye contact before whispering in a very low voice, different than from before with his laugh.

"The story remains that I didn't get paid. That's the moral. If you can't deal with this reality, what makes you think you understand your own?"

"She's just a kid!"

"And they were just rats." Maran froze. Kirsa tried to move forward, but the grip Maran had on her arm was vice-like. The air was cold and damp, and they were standing knee-deep in similar water, Maran breathing heavily but determined to win the situation. The Pied Piper was furious. And part of Maran had a fear of that look. The other part of her, the fighter, grew angry. Her hand came up and grabbed him by the face. Pushing him away with as much force as she could muster, she pulled Kirsa nearer to the shore. The music disappeared and she knew her chance had come. She grabbed her sister's other arm and turned her so they were face-to-face. While the music was still gone, Maran shook Kirsa as hard as she could. After a second, she went from limp to tense, her eyes opening for a second before she fell back and the music started again. Her eyes were open now, at least. Maran took that as her cue that she was in the presence of a sound-minded sister and turned to the Piper.

"You can't take the kids and you sure as hell haven't saved this city from any infestation. I still see the same scum everyday and the world isn't seeing anything worth changing for." Maran fell silent, shaking from fear, anger, and the cold. The Pied Piper of Hamelin said nothing, but he stared, his black eyes boring into hers. The cloudiness was gone, the music no longer bothering her. But those eyes, they promised suffering. Kirsa started to dance around, something frantic as she mumbled about freedom and whole families she could live with just beyond the waterfront, but that was several miles away, and Maran would be damned if she let her ungrateful sister drown herself.

"A pound of flesh I require! You're willing to make that deal?" the Piper yelled over the screams. Maran didn't say anything, but picked up her sister with as much force as she could and walked back to the shore. Setting the struggling, screaming girl of thirteen on the ground, she waited for her to balance before yanking the splintered post out of her grip. Her mind said goodnight the moment Maran swung at her stomach and winded her enough to cause unconsciousness.

"Sure." The laughter and song began to course through her once again, and the peace came back to her, promising the things she so desperately thought she could find with him. For the first time that night, she let herself think it was possible, and she faced the bay. The Pied Piper of Hamelin took his dues.

Kirsa woke up in the morning, groggy and her head pounding as the music faded. Stretching on the wet ground, her body rolled until she rested on her back. There were sirens in the background and she was pulled into a sitting position after awhile. The signals from her brain weren't reaching her limbs very quickly, she was so tired. "Kirsa? Answer me if you can hear me!" The person, a male, was trying to wake her up, and slowly the night came back to her. What was that sound, she asked herself as her body shook awake. Then she remembered cold water, eerie music, and her sister fighting some small man. Where was Maran? Kirsa remembered she was pulled into the water, and then what?

She remembered nothing then, nothing but the music. It lingered, and how it came after her. She couldn't scream, could barely talk when they asked questions. The sea called to her, like they had everyone else, but she was frozen in place from fear. All she could say was, "The music played, it played until they were all gone, it promised to take me away and I'd never felt so happy. But somehow the music stopped and I couldn't go too." She cried.

Dancing Children, pt. 1

Maran woke up to a strange wind that gusted through the house followed by a loud thud. She was awake, moreso than the rest of her family hopefully. In the chill of the night, it was possible there was a draft, but the old style of the Edenton was durable to stand the cold of winter. It could've been an opened door or window from downstairs, in which case the proper action to take would be to call the police and report a break-in. It would've been logical, but that wouldn't happen. She didn't really suspect a break-in. There was a window or door open somewhere and she had a feeling her sister had something to do with it, not a burglar.

Kirsa, her sister, had always been the restless type and her walking around in the dead of night was not unusual. When she snuck in the back door last time she had to intervene to give her sister the most subtle informative talk at two in the morning. Never before had she spoken to her about sneak tactics, but she managed to mention the back porch and ledge. Her sister was a bit of a slacker and Maran wasn't exactly daughter of the year, having slipped out at all hours of the morning herself until she was sixteen.

As a student, Maran found herself more immersed in her social activities than in her studies. It wasn't that she was popular—she wasn't—but that she fell in with a rather violent group and ruined her reputation with fights. Her mother caught her sneaking in through the back yard when working in the den. Up until that moment, her mother hadn't shown she suspected. A couple of months of intense therapy and some serious family time, she was a semi-model student. Now she was very well off their radar and into the proverbial melting pot of ignorance. She hated it, for the most part, but she didn't mind not being noticed. It was a sacrifice to let people think she'd converted to the social cult of America.

Normal people would've turned over and gone back to sleep. Maran in her old ways would've gone to shut the window before doing the same, but now her reaction was to go down and investigate somewhat. A likely scenario would be a midnight snack and paranoia and a positively embarrassing lecture from those awake.

But this felt different. Kirsa was usually quieter than this. There was no real possibility of drinking since she was more trouble when sober, but Maran needed to investigate. She sat up, ran a hand through her short brown hair to even it back, and pulled the sheets away. Her feet were itching to move, and it was driving her to leave the room in haste. Something about that wind was borrowing her for a moment, and she felt nearly entranced. The air was so thick she had to get to the door.

Then she heard it, the music. It was so faint that she had to concentrate to hear it. The eerie sound carried her away from her bed, getting louder as she gained distance. Almost to the door, her feet were moving alone to match the music coming from outside. It felt as though a warm blanket was being thrown over her, comforting her and lulling her into a deep sleep. Her body seemed to be in tune to the woodwind sound, but her mind was dozing too quickly for her taste. This shouldn't have been happening. She was in control of herself, she didn't need some outside force to try and exert power. The music suddenly became louder. Her arm shot out and grabbed a coat rack outside of her door, flinging sweaters and a hat into her mother's door. The woman could sleep through a nuclear blast.

Kirsa's door was wide open, and her curtains were billowing. Maran forced herself to concentrate on the cold in the walls as she dragged herself down the stairs and towards the front door, coat rack in tow. Her grip was painful, bringing her closer to what it felt to be awake. There was the choice to make now, whether to bring a weapon to the fight or play it by ear. She wasn't without any fight in her body, a mind of her own and several years in a karate class made her able to defend herself.

A voice appeared in her head, a soothing one with such an alluring sound that she found it hard not to listen. It was too calm and it caused her a headache because no one really sounded like that. The voice was promising her peace and quiet, things she desperately wanted, things Anyone would be foolish not to want so much. Grabbing the railing to the stairwell, she felt her feet almost fall into step and take her headfirst down the stairs. Peace and quiet, a place of her own where she could live. Away from the noise of the world she lived in. It was not far, and she could go with them and they could all live happily ever after. . . Maran scoffed then, her mind focusing on her hand gripping the handrail. Her body was turning to jelly about peace and quiet, but that was exactly the problem. Everyone wanted peace and quiet, so what was so special about that? The voice got quieter as she kept thinking, the fog in her mind disappearing as she became more skeptical of the sounds coming from inside her head.

Her body was back in her control. Finally, she thought. Now, lets see if we can find something worth going after.

She made her way down the stairs and peered into the living room. No one. There was a clear view to the dining room. That meant they were either in the dining room or kitchen, where there were tools of destruction. Maran didn't want to make herself vulnerable to attack. To meet an intruder without properly having something to bring to the fighting ring would be dangerous. The music began to fade, her senses returning to her. The post in her hand was snapped in half over her knee, which hurt at first but was a fade compared to the cloudiness from just now. Was there someone in the house other than the three of them? She made her way down the stairs quietly, dodging the creaky steps and holding her breath as she ventured towards the living room.

Then she heard mumbling around the corner. Kirsa was talking to someone in the kitchen, not begging or conversing like usual—which in her case was near yelling—but answering questions in an almost cheerful disposition. Kirsa wasn't a chipper person by any means, just like her sister. Maran's ears prickled a little at the mention of her name, and there was no secret about her position now. The splintered rod in her hand served well as a weapon, and she had every intention of using it on an assailant.

"She's overprotective, violent, and strong." Kirsa's voice. It didn't sound like her at all, more chipper and automatic, but the tone was not really unmistakable. When you lived with someone long enough, some things were automatic. Her hand clenched around the pole and she heard a male voice, accompanied by the returning music. This time it was louder than before, as though trying to convince her to fall back asleep. At first she thought it was a good idea, the sleep so calming it was sickening. It was a mellow light in the black. . . Then she heard her sister giggle. He giggled as well. His shrill sound pierced her eardrums, deadening the eerie tune again. Never again, she promised herself.

"She is a stubborn one," the male voice said again. He had an accent, possibly German, and why he was in her living room, Maran wasn't sure she'd find out right away and enjoy the answer if she did. "We'll have to bring her in to say hello." The music stopped altogether, but there was the opening of a drawer. Someone was going for something sharp. Crap, crap, crap. Maran's heart sped up and her grip loosened on instinct. She needed to get this one right. She also hoped that Kirsa wasn't going to let someone hurt either of them.

She just needed to stay completely quiet and strike when the opportunity was best. Then a voice whispered to her. "Psst. Who are we waiting for?" Maran tensed and saw spots. Turning, she found the broken coat rack gone from her hand and missing completely while staring into the face of a young man, quite a bit shorter than her. At five-foot-nine, Maran towered over many of her classmates and it helped with intimidation at times. The man was about four-foot-nine, and he carried something at his side. It looked like a recorder, but it looked so old. He wore a green shirt and tights, a belt holding his clothes up. Something told her he didn't belong from this region or even time, his clothes suggested. It worried her.

"Are you the sister?" His accent, so thick, was like an ice cube down her back. Her nails were digging into her palms, trying to grab onto the pole again that wasn't there. "I took away your little toy as good little girls don't play with sharp objects."

"Who are you?" Her voice cracked, it was so dry. The man grinned so wide his teeth glinted. His teeth were sharp enough to tear through leather, and that scared Maran. Many people were scared off by threats, idle or not. Maran's fears were based more on actual experience. Sharp things cut deep, and she'd been torn into before. The man looked so sure of himself that he could cut into her as well.

"Call me Hamelin. I'll be taking your sister. You're too old, a giant I'm afraid, but the journey specifically states that no giants are to be admitted."

"I'm not a giant. There are a lot of tall kids around. As I recall, you weren't able to hold onto me, not the other way around." There. The slight sneer and unwavering smugness he bore into her was moved just a bit.

"Either way, you're not a child by far, giant." The name he'd given her spiked her anger the slightest bit, driving away some of her fear. For a moment she could feel the weight of the post in her hand. She hadn't been aware of a cloudiness fogging her vision as she stood facing him. Her memory didn't feel like it was all there. Maran could hear her sister creaking up behind her, and turned to catch the hand sailing down to her soldier before it reached her. Kirsa had a knife and Maran had nothing. Thankfully Kirsa was also shorter and though she had a good right hook, she was no match for her older sister. Maran's eyes went wide as saucers when she spotted the look in those once dull eyes. They were green with excitement in the glow of the outside lamplight as she tried to push the knife down with incredible strength. The eldest of the two ducked under her sister's arm and twisted it back behind her, removing the blade from her hand. Maran had no idea what happened to her sister, whether she was in on this psycho's game or if she was hypnotized. She'd hurt the kid if she had to, but only with the intent of knocking her unconscious.

"And neither is my sister. What do you want?"

"A short time ago there was an infestation and I went unpaid."

"It's called an invoice."

"All debts are promises."

"Did you get shorted, then, Mister Hamelin?" He smiled again.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, so I'm taking my dues." Maran was confused. What dues could he possibly want that he'd have to entrance children to get them? She stared at him as though trying to step away and sweep the strange sense of familiarity into something discernable. It sounded somewhat familiar and it was on the tip of her tongue. Then it wasn't. The cloudiness came back and fought for some control over the thought process, taking her immediate line of thinking away. "As I said before, go back to sleep, giant."

He brought the flute to his lips and began to play. She didn't want to feel vulnerable again, and she knew what was coming.

Deities

A brisk wind, chill from the night, began its decent into dawn with one last caress over the grassy hills and plains. With a determination unseen by the human eye the fierce current blew, dancing and twisting as waves crashed upon the ocean front. With it were carried leaves, turning, rising and falling, untamed by invisible threads which seemed to draw from the Earth itself.

The air was salty, fresh on the ground as blades of grass worshiped with trembling chorus. The earth swayed. Shoreline approaching, leaves of gold and red swirled helplessly in the current only to be beckoned into a tight vortex. The Sun rose and in the glow shimmered the ghost of a figure, the leaves reflecting the sunlight with each passing second.

An undeniably feminine silhouette walked towards a precipice overlooking the ocean, dawn approaching within the half hour. With the brisk and chill breeze, Her body seemed to float over the dewy grass as morning approached. Time moved.

Grasshoppers had fallen silent hours ago, a soft symphony of nature to ease her mind. Through the silence she noted a stillness she'd not heard in ages.



Her gown fluttered in the wind. As though leaves had been embedded onto the hem and bodice, they clung to her form, brought color to her somewhat dull attire. She'd change it if the weather had been a little nicer in the southern hemisphere. Her fall colors always peaked out at the oddest times, her skin ever-changing. Despite the fact that she was in Spring weather of the East Coast, she was lacking the colors brought on by Spring, and was currently sporting browns, gold, red, and dark green. A few things remained, some dark butterflies that decided to latch onto her in order to travel north. They would live but turn with her in shades, mostly because she was ever changing and never aging.

Not physically, at least.

She was supposed to meet with Adrian in the evening. He'd asked for her to meet him privately and mentioned he had something important to tell her. Her stomach fluttered. How she came to love him, she will never know. All she knew was she was nearly head over heels in love with the Time Guardian. Perhaps she enjoyed his presence because of his control and gracefulness, but it was certain that she was the best thing in his life.

Although recently he'd been acting strange, disappearing from dinners at random times and showing up with artifacts. Usually he stuck to watching past events or pretending that he couldn't watch everything unfold while knowing the outcome already.

The guy was a jerk when at the movies, but everyone had their traits. He was responsible to say the least when it came to his job. He'd never been swayed in his time, at least that's what she'd been told. Why she had doubts now of all times she wasn't so sure. The wind felt different this morning. There were few moments when this was a sign of natural foreboding, and each occurrence left her emotionally distraught.

Why she thought so much on the topic of his professional manner always baffled her. However, it was smart to question when things were too good to be true. She would never have questioned if he hadn't made some strange decisions in the past few weeks. Her heart was all but his to hold but he didn't seem as committed as she was.

The winds were changing. She could feel it and was forced to act upon it. Time was grim.

A raven hopped up from behind her and she smiled, shaken from her reverie. "Jack, I see you've found me. Tell Frey I will be arriving shortly. Traveling in this world is hard without the right equipment. However, before you take flight, I request a boon from you. Seek me out should I suddenly become detained this week. I feel ill this morn. Many thanks, friend." She caressed Jack's feathers and he departed. The clouds churned as she stood there, and in her hand appeared a hat, a fedora. Dusting it off, her skin began to maintain a steady color. The magick within the object was strong, and on her head it went. Even the hat felt funny today. She shrugged it off as she continued her journey on foot to the bus station.

Her eyes looked out into the morning, ready for the day to begin. She smiled. This part never got boring. "Call me. . . "

"Lois, what was your distress? I didn't think you the paranoid type," said Frey. The woman in black and red took a bite from her burrito and continued walking with her autumn-clad friend. "Even Jack appeared concerned." The wind almost blew their hats across the food court, which could've blown their entire cover. The clouds were building, too. They were looking at a thunderstorm in the next few hours thanks to Miss Sunshine. Lois brushed a butterfly off her dress, the third one today, and sighed. Thinking back to her sudden change in appetite for beautiful weather, she realized her logic had won over. "Adrian has been so sweet these past weeks, and I feel a lack of concern right now. Logically, I would have been even the tiniest bit suspicious, but right now I feel so light."

"Jack mentioned some illness when he'd arrived. Perhaps he is planning something a little more permanent?" Lois looked up for a minute, as though something had occurred to her, but she shook it off.

"Nonsense. Adrian has control over time, what would he desire the weather?"

"Trust me, he has reason to want them. He's selfish like that. Having the power to harbor Time but not the control to change everything. He is just the Guardian, but he can't change anything. But just because he could have it, doesn't mean he would have the power to control it." Lois knew she was right. Even if Adrian wanted to control the weather, he didn't have the patience or the physical prowess to do any real damage. How she ended up liking a guy like him she would never know. These days she could easily conjure up a tornado that hit the scale at about four without making herself fatigued, but when she started out she could barely conjure a dust devil let alone an F4. Adrian had to use a different method to control time, therefore his powers would've been for moot if he actually succeeded.

She honestly could care less if he was after her. "That's why I prefer to keep everything simple. He could never control them even if he tried, and that's no exaggeration."

"I'm glad I stay out of relationships. I make it a point not to mix business with pleasure." Lois closed her eyes and laughed. Her voice carried and everyone seemed to fall into a daze for a second, as though her sound was a dream. The hats only filtered so much, so the utmost care was needed. Their disguises were bland but fair, the most important part being they could possess objects and tend to their worldly needs.

"How is Lucy? Still livid as ever?"

"He's out of his Hawaiian phase and now acting as the businessman everyone fears. His sense of humor is waning, though. Trade agreements this year, after all. I was lucky to get this time to shop, but he owed me." They fell quiet. Business was often the topic at hand, but they found their way around it to make it entertaining. "Once again, he's asking for 75/25, but it'll end up 60/40 just like last time and the time before that. He's a terrible finagler until someone asks for his help." Frey picked up a hair dryer and checked out the settings. Lois scoffed at the absurd quality of the machine.

"Hun, I could conjure a breeze that would tickle your spine and dry your hair for you."

"His Excellency wouldn't appreciate the favors you were doing me otherwise he would demand you do them for him as well. I'm better off just buying another one and charging him full price."

"I never understood what he was going for, 75/25. It must be a joke."

"He never fails to ask for that number, but I think he's just determined to keep most of them. He can never get over 60 percent." Frey didn't seemed phased by this. The Lord of Darkness getting over 50 percent anyway was a frightening but fair number, but there were things to factor into that number. The contract stated that the percentage of people they agreed on were the ones touched by either party. No prying into the business of the other party was allowed, and usually there was no problem in how they ended up so long as the numbers were right. Frey was calmer these days about such matters, and Lois knew it was just business.

Her contract was with the industrial world. With which company was she under contract? All of them. Since she began work, she'd been called upon to stop acting out against man's devices through the network. She would take out a small town for drilling into her kind and defenseless Earth for what they called "natural resources." She would drown a city that chose to exploit her resources over using the most reliable source of power-the Sun. After a few tries to destroy the balance of man over nature, she was forced to sign a contract with a band of mortals and gods. She was a deity. She had no use for contracts. If that were the case, then she wouldn't have needed to use these hats to get around on this plane.

But with the contracts came a level of rebellion, spurred by the masses and defended by those who lived solely on her. She almost despised them more, but appreciated those who treated her planet with respect instead of spite. The Wiccans had to be her favorite beings by far. They kept to themselves and enjoyed a lovely cup of tea every now and then. They were mellow when they came face to face with a deity.

"Lois, were you planning on hating my choice in appliances any time?"

"Just reminiscing, dear, no need to worry. I fear someone may be trying to disturb my realm this day and want to be on my best behavior when it happens. My contract was just renewed a couple of years ago. They were a snooty bunch and it made a connection somewhere down the line. I would hate to be me right now, who has to deal with the gods of civilized times. The new batch of mortals has sprouted from the ashes of their fathers.

Even if one survived, the contract remained in tact. The begin planning the next one for me to sign. I fear something bad may happen if I didn't real the contract completely this time. They added oil companies to the side, which was callous of them. Makes me wonder if they hid anything else in the manuscript."

"They've got their eyes on you, don't they. At least His Excellency has a bad reputation to keep up with, despite that three decade Hawaiian phase. Sandals, floral patterns, it was hard to keep his image fire and brimstone, but he managed to strike fear into everyone beside that. All it took was one laughing man to straighten the rest of the Underworld out."

Lois giggled. "You've been his secretary for how long? Four centuries?"

"Four and ten. It has not been easy. And his advances are borderline pathetic."

"Advances? You mean he hasn't been able to take you into his bed?"

"Trust me when I say in my years he has not once even forced me to join him."

"You've resisted the Pride Lord all this time? I've only heard of some of his exploits, but it must be hard to turn him down either way."

"He's a kitten, hun, don't forget that. Besides, I didn't value my body when I had it. Prostitution and drugs wore my body down and I regained all I had after I died. I made him laugh when I first told him I wouldn't become what I had before."

Lois thought about Adrian, how he'd been very patient. He knew time had to pass before she'd trust him like that, and fought the urge to be confusing when things needn't be confusing. Mortal or Deity, no difference in how either thought. Man could be more insightful than Deity, and Deities could be more so fickle as well. It was a spin of the dice at that point.

Adrian was sweet when he wasn't trying to be devious, she thought. Ever since she had put her hat on this morning, she'd been walking around and traveling the new way. Old-fashioned was flying around with trails of dust or glitter behind her. Sparkly. She almost missed the old ways, but then she remembered her first milkshake. That was when she stopped questioning the realm she was in.

Speaking of realms, Lois hadn't felt that connected with hers since she put on her hat this morning, and in thinking this, she turned to Frey. "I'm going to check to see if things are all right on my side. I'll be right back." Lois disappeared into the nearest bathroom and checked the stalls for feet. She didn't need anyone peeking in when she decided to return to her ever-changing form. It frightened more than one person on occasion, which was something she'd rather not repeat as far as experiences went. It was her usual several hour checkup, just in case she missed something. Frey did the same thing on the five hour mark, but all she had was a nosy boss to deal with.

Lois removed her hat, allowing the ever-changing colors to flush her skin and warm her body from the cold she'd been feeling on the back burner. Her hair was dryer with the Fall Season in the Southern Hemisphere, but she needed a little of her power to keep her warm. The Earth was getting colder under her feet, she never seemed to get warm, mostly because she was unable to use her powers to her own benefit. She was never charitable to herself, hadn't taken time to think about her needs first.

With her hair down to her waist, turning from brown to auburn to blonde to red.

She never could have black, just the darkest blue closest to dawn, but during the Fall Season she was graced with every color of the bold rainbow. She enjoyed the maroon almost as much as the forest green, but not so much the platinum blonde or near black.

The world was spinning just a little too fast for her. There was trouble stirring in this oblivious city. It was as though time was begging for her attention. Why would he want to take care of her, or want her power in any case? She should've been more careful somewhere along the line. She was listening to the whispers carried by the butterflies as they told her what the pit of her stomach already knew.

Someone was destroying her beautiful world. Someone close enough to hit in all the right places. This made Lois furious. Tree by tree, drill by drill, all of it was coming at her full force, and her knees buckled from the pressure. There was someone trying to get into her mind, someone close enough to cause her realm trouble. No one dredged into her realm and got away with it, she thought, sweat forming on her forehead. The pain was new at the moment, something she'd luckily avoided in her time. Running through her nerves, sensitizing every last one to the point that she wasn't going to be able to walk until they all stopped. It wasn't completely foreign to her, just out of the norm at this point in her life. It was her own folly that got her where she was. Her own heart.

Taking the time to lower herself to the ground, Lois decided to breathe in a few times, her chest hurting with every inhale. Tears formed in her eyes, she was sure she wouldn't be able to leave for at least five minutes after it stopped. So cold. . . "Hhuh. . . hhuh. . . " Her eyes were clenched and she was warm. She drew into the power of the Earth's core to warm herself, deciding that it was imperative to use it this once to help herself back onto her feet and cleanse her face. The water reached out for her, wanting to bathe her. She'd hardly asked anyone for any boon, never drew upon her surroundings for extra strength. Being that generous to the world made the world strive to make it the most comfortable for her was the most reassuring. She embraced the entity, the nymph's gentle touch, until she felt rejuvenated. That was her power.

"Thank you, my lovelies, be at thy rest now, I may call on you again."

Adrian was tired of her contentment to stay in one place, probably thought she could do so much with her power, but never tried. He wanted to put her power to work for him, and she resisted. She would continue to resist. She placed her hat on her head, feeling the shiver down her spine as the color left her body. The lack of color was cold, but her control was more important. Her reflection stared back at her. She needed to take care of herself should she become weaker in the next day. Perhaps this was the spur she needed to make things right. She finished washing her face, and dried her hands by waving them once through the air. Like warm towels against her skin.

She turned to leave the bathroom, and walked through the department store. The crowd was larger today, one of the reasons they were in need of disguise. There was something she loved about walking among the mortals, and that was that everyone had their own style. Much like the deities of old, Dionysus set the record for alcohol, and now St. Patrick set the record for most drinks in a single day. No one has heard him shut up since. It was the same with figures in this world. Celebrated political figures and celebrities walked the streets in disguises in order to avoid the masses.

She was Mother Nature, and no one thought of a bigger bitch. That was how people remembered her. She smiled as a wave of mischief swept over her. She didn't even do anything, just minded her own business while the rest of the world gave her credit for things that happened naturally. Yes, there were times when her attitude caused some problems, but these days she was pretty much mellow. A little restless, which is when she arranged for a friend to meet her on the mortal realm for lunch and shopping.

They never bought anything, who could possibly need anything of that sort?

Oh right, Frey and her absurd hair dryer. What a strange coincidence that she lived below the Earth's surface and had need for a machine made by man? Considering the weather conditions from whence she hailed, there had to be something that fueled her attitude. It wasn't too bad, from what she heard. Just a little hot, but other than that, it was pretty loud with the bars and fights breaking out. Honestly, it was no different than the night life in the mortal realm. Men just turned into monsters of their own thinking—people, they changed daily according to their beliefs in what made bad men.

But still, a hair dryer? It had to be a ploy to get out of the realm for some good-natured mischief.

She left the bathroom with a fresh trail of tan smoke behind her. She was happy to conform to the law of the fedora, only because the favors were less than reputable when she was found out by some imp who'd been trailing her since her teens. She'd be damned if she did any favors for anyone less than a high priestess these days. Mankind would never change in that aspect. They would always be wondering if there was another way, a shortcut to anyplace worth going. She always told the one who'd found her that their guess was as good as hers, but they were stuck in any case. Which was quite true. She just didn't mind keeping that detail to herself. Her time was longer than theirs.

When she approached her friend, Frey was getting a latté from a chain store. It must've tasted like Heaven after living in Hell. Hell made shitty coffee.

"Lois, what ails?" Frey handed Lois her favorite, hot chocolate. She was still cold and the liquid sweet made her tongue tingle. The ancients knew how to make chocolate, but this was close—cacao beans raw weren't too bad still, the additives made things unbearably addictive.

"A lack of tribute for old society. I tried to see the use in these pieces of technology, but every time there's something useful placed in the world, I hear about it first. It's draining, that's for damn sure. Every man looking for an easy way out, makes me mad. I'm the one who should be begging for an escape."

"You talk about making things easier, why not just conjure something for yourself every once in awhile? It's funny that you talk about doing one thing, then do something completely different."

"Only when it comes to myself. I can't spoil myself like that otherwise I'll get sloppy. My life is hard enough to deal with outside of these potential shortcuts. Sticking to the rules seems to suit me just fine."

"You might have to break the rules in order to rescue yourself if the shit hits the fan. It'd be your own fault if you let someone take your gift." Lois said nothing. She'd been feeling this for a few weeks, as mentioned earlier. She was grim that this happened, but she was ready for some of it. Time, after all, waited for no one, not even Adrian. A rush like none other crept into her stomach. She was smiling, and she hardly smiled. That was a gift she gave to very, very few.

"That feeling you just got, sister," Frey said. She'd grown her own set of horns.

"That's excitement. Nothing better than danger to bring out the deity in all of us."

"Don't try to provoke me, hun, you're the one with your afterlife virginity still in tact. I just need someone to watch me if I end up losing my cool."

"Which is appropriate, after all. You are a force to be reckoned with and the circumstances are right." Lois waited for the kicker they both knew was coming.

"However, the code would disagree with you. No one would take the word of a frustrated woman who just broke up with her ex."

"And here I was thinking we were still deities. My record would hold up better than his in any court. The only problem is that we aren't held up by any court here, and I'd miss out on my chance to humiliate him internationally instead of just on one plane. He'll come looking for me soon, try to corner me."

"Says the woman who talks to butterflies in the lavatory." It would end up in a bathroom, too. None of these fights ever took place in any dignified place, not since the weather channel began airing. Changes in temp and patterns were noticed. She'd not been looking for easier ways to take care of enemies, she thought the lines were clear since Murphy's Laws were written down. Nothing was sacred anymore, not even battle fields. Lois sighed, having lost her opportunity to fight long ago with her pacifistic ways. She never went to them, either, it was an opportunity to gamble among gods, and she was usually nowhere to be found in those times.

"I'll not have this going on tomorrow, Frey." And that was the end of that conversation. Frey was looking especially liberated with her finished latté, considering she only got one about once every ten years if she were lucky. The rest of the time, she had to imagine she was drinking coffee, when she was actually drinking the sludge scraped off the bottom of a two-hour old pot of joe from the employee lounge. It was the living she knew she'd rather have, so she let it go.

Possibly one of the most daring of the group but not the most laid back, Frey was chosen to be Lucifer's personal assistant. Before she was given this position, she was a meek woman who'd been thrown into the depths of what she believed was Hell from within. She'd been beaten, bruised, killed, then brought back to somewhat alive and kicking. She decided to become a little more responsible with her afterlife, and in doing this, she resisted any firm stances on how things were to be run. A side woman with no agenda, just what the guy wanted. She arranged meetings with potentials, monitored the surveillance system, and tended to the needs of her employer. Within reason, of course.

She was feared almost as much as Lucy himself, with her business apparel and tight bun atop her head. A clipboard in one hand, a cellphone in another, and a watch that had every timezone on its face. Not that she needed it after this long, but she'd request a location and have the appropriate time there. Most of the time, they were similar places, but His Excellency threw a wrench into her system once in a lunar eclipse.

Their day was winding down. Frey had her silly contraption, Lois had Adrian to deal with. Deities often stayed out of the business of other deities, so there was no confusion as to whom was causing her trouble. She'd been dating Adrian for a blip of time, cutting it off this early was something she wasn't terribly broken up about it. He was cute, young in a way. That was what he had, but he was a thief from the beginning.

Overlooking that small detail was kind of her.

Now she had to deal with his deception.

There, in the third stall from the end, was a pair of peculiar shoes. They were Adrian's shoes, and he had much to atone for. She'd caught him finally. He'd put a spell on her hat to make her suspicion disappear. Fortunately, her suspicions weren't based on something he was hiding, she just never learned to trust him. Turning, she walked back to the door only to find the door jammed somehow. She'd been set up. She feigned fear.

"Lois, darling, what is your hurry?"

"Adrian." Sure enough, the Time Guardian made himself known and walked to the sink. Lois had been right to distrust him as soon as she smelled trouble, and now she needed to take her leave. This was going to work out perfectly. She reached for her hat, but he stopped her. He was in front of her now. His hand came down from her head and he touched her nose as a parent would a child.

"I wouldn't do that. This room would surely react negatively to your change in form, as I'm sure you're aware. The magic is much too strong for what you're wanting to do. Destroying yourself is something neither of us desire."

"What deception is this, Adrian, that you can attempt to control me."

"Just want your power, sweetheart." He wanted her power, but he couldn't handle even the tiniest fraction of it. For a second, Lois pictured the world in chaos, somewhat like when she lost her cool and decimated a tiny shed in the Ukraine with lightning. Her mind didn't feel any change, though. She was ready to stop his threat.

"You'd never harness it." Her hat. She could usually control the weather with her disguise on. However, her powers were harnessed a bit to hold onto the plane. What was he getting at? She reached for her hat and realized he was watching not her, but her hand. His face was a little apprehensive. He didn't want her to remove her hat. In that case. . . she thought. With a smirk, she removed the hat, allowing the warmth to spread from her head to her toes. Her cheeks flushed, she was honestly a Goddess in its purest form. Her skin began to change tones, and Adrian became a little dazed. She was, without a doubt, in her most precious and invincible form. Even if Adrian had wanted to take her power, he would be unable to in this form.

"I. . . " Adrian's mouth fell open.

Adrian, if you were as in love as I was at one point, you would've known I'd be my own person, I wouldn't allow my work to play backseat to my relationship. Perhaps sidesaddle, but never backseat. Time, however. . . " The air dryer was behind her. The continual dramatic coincidence was upon her when she decided to use one to save her own skin. Oh spite, she drawled, poising her elbow over the activation nob.

"I don't love you. Believe me when I say you are one of the most difficult women to impress when I want something from you." He was begging? How unlike the men of old.

"I know this, dear. That's why I'm no longer pining for you as I once did. It's not nice to fool Mother Nature, and so I bid you adieu. You are no longer responsible for your power after today as punishment for destroying" It began projecting air onto her hand and she knew she had a moment for this to make the desired effect. She whispered a few words of encouragement, anyone could do that, but she was the only one with the language of the wind.

She stepped away from the wall an inch. The air swerved around her form, lifting her arms as pets would, and shot forward in a whirlwind. He was taken aback by the attack and was forced against the far wall, flat on his back. She was unaffected. Her mind recalled the words she needed to end this. It would be short and sweet.

"I did love you, Lois." She approached him as the wind held him down, and with the pressure she was exerting on him, she was in complete control of herself and him. He was not being crushed, merely held back so she could talk to him.

"You were trying to lure me into a sense of false security so you could take my abilities, but as you can see, I'm more capable of handling them than you are. You are better off walking away from this. If you resist, I will remove your burden and find someone more capable of handling them than you."

"You're not going to, though."

"I will if I have to. Taking anothers' ability is punishable-"

"I know, but you aren't using yours."

"I respect my abilities. They respect me in return. You, however, have forgotten yourself more than once." She didn't have long, machines were shifty like that. "Choose now."

"I still, and always will, want to use your powers to the point where they are no longer yours. To the point of abuse." Lois sighed. Those were the words. This might've been harder for her to face after all. Adrian had been a sweetheart to her, showered her with love and she had done the same. They knew they could live forever, but love forever might have only depended on their ability to tolerate one another for all eternity. There was only a handful of couples who had accomplished this, and they were probably the only tame ones of the masses of them. "Destroy me, if you can. I'll take a part of you with me."

"You had more when I loved you." The words left her mouth, words of a different language, old tongue. His eyes strained back into his sockets and the wind broke around them. She was sorry to have broken their bond, but he wasn't happy with his gift. The only thing she could do was relieve him of it. He would not die, just be reborn as someone new, perhaps the next Time Guardian, any could tell. Sometimes it was a matter of time spent on the mortal realm to remind him of his actions and make him a better person. His powers would go to her, and she would have to transfer the power to another with the mindset for it until they could extract it into someone more responsible. There were backups for this, and in a few years, he would be given a chance if he proved worthy.

And he disappeared in a wisp of dark blue dust on the wind. Lois breathed in the smoke and coughed. The pressure was back and she grabbed onto a bathroom stall to keep steady. Her lungs, ready to burst, sent spikes of pain through her body. Spasms of fear and uncertainty shot through her but the decision was clear. She needed help to get back. As she lost all feeling in her arms, a pair of feminine arms caught her before she fell. Darkness.

Lois stood on the precipice with arms outstretched, overlooking the ocean at near sunrise. The air was moist with the night's frost soon to be turned to dew in the spring morning while the brisk chill fought to remain the strongest element in her presence. Nighttime was her time to settle down and collect her thoughts. The frost from the night would wear soon, as all things had a place in time.

She felt betrayed, but she would live. The darkness wasn't her favorite place to be at the time, and she was cold. The Earth would keep moving. Time was with a temporary Guardian, and they were contemplating the fate of the one reborn. Samuel Terrace, South Carolina, age fourteen. Born into a family recommended by the majority of neutral deities and in good understanding with their views concerning responsibilities that mattered the most to the council.

Her position was in question as well, but their evidence was vast against the Time Guardian and it was her own fault for trusting him enough to get herself into such trouble. She took full responsibility for her actions and they checked her records for any marring that would effect their decision. They found none.

Though she was now among her element, she felt a tiniest bit alone. She'd never asked for help from her elements. They knew this to be a kindness, and treated her well throughout the conflict. She was strong and willing to move on, and that was enough for now.

Lois smiled for the first time since she left him behind, and remembered that time waited for no one.

Fin.