Hawtness - Hawtness - Volume 3 - Chapter 6

Andrew didn’t go far into the
forest before he bent down onto his knees. He cleared off a small patch of dirt
and began writing in it. He drew several elaborate symbols with a steady hand.
When he was done, he lowered his open palm into the middle and recited a few
words.  

My eyes widened as the symbols
began to glow a translucent light. The light continued to grow and shine until
it encompassed an entire circle at Andrew’s feet. I covered my eyes, but Andrew
stared directly into the light as if it didn’t affect him. He reached down into
that light and pulled something large
out. When he stood up, the light flickered out.  

My eyes adjusted to the relative
change in lighting, looking at what Andrew was holding. It was a white bow that
seemed to glitter in the light of the day. He held it out to me.  

“This is some kind of
angelic bow?”  

Andrew nodded, “It never
runs out of ammo. Just pull back and an arrow will appear. I never learned how
to use it. I’m sure father would be upset if he knew I was giving it to a
human, but I trust you completely.”  

I took the bow from his hands,
looking it over. It really was beautiful. It looked perfectly shaped and carved
from a single piece of white wood. Elaborate symbols much like the ones Andrew had written into the dirt were
carved into the wood. The bowstring was made of a silver material that I didn’t
even recognize. As I looked over the bow, it reminded me of a question I had
been meaning to ask Andrew for some time.  

“I wanted to ask you about
your sword,” I spoke up.  

Andrew smiled at me, swinging his
arm in a low arc. For a second, the familiar orange sword flickered into and
then out of existence.  

“It’s one of a pair of holy
swords called the Gemini. I inherited it from my grandfather.”  

“Why does it only appear
like that for only a second?”  

“It’s a very powerful sword.
It takes a very powerful Archangel to be able to summon it. No Archangel can
bring it into this world for more than a second or two, at least not in
recorded history.”  

“Really?”  

“Yeah, the Archangels of the
past could draw the sword into this reality to wield them. It required what
they described as a pure heart. Old lore used to say the holy swords were sheathed
within our hearts. You’d have to jam it into your heart to return it to the
holy realm.”  

“Wow! That sounds
painful.” 

“Well, you can’t blame me
for never trying. No, these swords don’t
function like that. It’s willpower, mostly. You bring them into existence by
willing them. Kind of like magic. If I concentrate hard enough, I can bring it
into this world, but I certainly can’t use it in that state, giving all my mind
to simply keeping it here.”  

“Once, I thought I had
summoned something like it.”  

Andrew gave me a polite smile,
“Human’s aren’t able to summon a holy sword. If you’re talking about that
time… long ago… I was there too. You just threw some magic in the shape of
a sword. I never really understood how you did it, but dad mentioned it had
something to do with me.”  

“You?”  

“Something like I projected
the magic into you.”  

When Andrew and I were locked in
that closet, I had swung what I thought was a sword, striking Stine and saving
the pair of us. It was the backlash from that event that nearly killed me. I
remembered the fire being purple. Wasn’t that demonic? How would Andrew project
demonic power into me? Andrew’s father wasn’t there to witness it, and
Andrew was very young at the time, so perhaps I’d never get an answer.

“Is that something I can do
again?”  

“It’d dangerous,”
Andrew’s face went serious, “I don’t want you to be hurt. Please, promise
me you won’t try.”  

His eyes held a bit of pleading within them. I gave him a single nod before
he’d relax. I still thought the magic could come in handy. Although, I also
remembered a giant hole in my chest right after doing it. Maybe I shouldn’t
tinker with things I didn’t understand.  

“You mentioned a second sword?” I asked to change the
conversation.  

“No one knows anything about
it.” Andrew shook his head.  

“What do you mean?”
 

“It’s been lost, for as long
as history. There are a lot of stories about it. They say the two swords are
two halves of the same coin. That whoever possesses the other sword is
soul mates to the companion’s wielder. Other stories say that they have to be
of the same blood, brothers at arms. There are even rumors that the twin isn’t
a holy sword at all, but a demonic blade.”  

“Demonic?” I asked.
 

“Angels and demons, two
swords that couldn’t be more dissimilar. I seriously doubt that is true. It was
probably just lost at the bottom of some ocean.”  

I nodded, “Well, I don’t
have any plans to go to the sea anytime soon.”  

“Just haunted houses, the
moon, back in time, and Triwerewolf tournaments.” 

“I didn’t plan any of
that,” I responded with a pout as Andrew laughed, “Those things just
sort of happened.”  

A crack in the woods caused
Andrew to turn and I joined him. A nervous head poked out from behind one of
the trees. 

“Daltom? Do you step on
every single stick in the forest?” I squinted at him.  

“I’m sorry, big sister,
Stephan sent me to bring you. He’s in the tent where
they are preparing th… the… the
body.”  

“Why don’t you go with Daltom?”
Andrew gestured, “I need to clean up my symbols. Don’t want someone accidentally opening a hole into my
dimension.”  

I bid Andrew farewell and turned to follow Daltom.
He nervously ran ahead of me, remaining silent as he moved. He almost seemed
like a rabbit or a mouse, skittering around in an open field. He looked like
he’d be far more comfortable hiding in one of the tents.  

“How are you, Daltom? We haven’t talked too often.”
 

Daltom jumped, turning back to
me.” It’s fine. The sight of another body…. Stephan’s so brave; it doesn’t
even bother him a little.”  

“Well, Stephan just got used
to that kind of thing. I’m sure once you’ve gotten used to it you’ll be able to
handle it too,” I frowned at the thought; if there was any luck in the
world neither of us would have to see any more corpses.  

“It’s just as bad when you become
too used to seeing it…” Daltom responded lightly, as if talking to himself.

“Huh?” I frowned, looking over at
the sad look on Daltom’s face.

“Ah, nothing… just thinking about
the past. I mean, I guess it’s the future for all of you, right?”

After a few moments of quiet
walking, I decide to ask. “You… staying with us in the past. It won’t cause any
issues with time, right? I don’t want to find out time has been changed.”

“Would that be so bad?” Daltom
said with a slight smile.

“Are you saying you are changing
time?” I asked in a sudden panic, turning and grabbing Daltom’s shoulder. “Will
the future now contain murderous robots? Daltom, I won’t be angry at you, just
tell me what you changed!”

Daltom’s eyes widened and he
holds up his hands to try to comfort me. “I was just joking, I’m sorry, sister,
it was a joke! My presence is already part of the timeline. I can’t change
anything, really!”

I realized I was shaking him and
slowly let my arms fall back and relax. He took a deep breath, sighing for a
moment.

“Are you really certain?” I
muttered lightly, only feeling a little embarrassed over my overreaction. “When
we were in space and Skyf was building a planet cracker, didn’t you say that
the world was at risk. Had you not warned us, the Earth would have been in
jeopardy! If you didn’t change anything, then that means the world was always
safe!”

Daltom gave a sigh. “Time is…
self-correcting. In a way, the Earth existed in a state where it could have not
existed, or it could have existed. Nothing I did personally would have saved
the Earth if the Earth was supposed to not exist, but it was ultimately our
choices that dictated Earth’s survival. Do you understand?”

“No, not even a little.” I
responded frankly, half expecting he was just making up a load of bull.

“Jane, can you just trust that
it’s complicated time stuff and I’m on top of it? Just believe me.”

 “Believe you? You mean, like that talk of us
being fated to be together?” I shot back with a wry look.

Daltom turned towards me for a
second, giving a smile that looked slightly pained. “Jane, when I was… born,
the moment I set my eyes on you, you knew everything about me. You knew me
better than I knew myself. The way you never gave up, the way you fought, you
were someone larger than life. You and my uncles, it was like you could take on
the universe itself. It should come as no surprise that I-“

Daltom suddenly stopped, so I
leaned forward to egg him on a bit, my heart suddenly beating faster despite
myself. “No surprise about what?”

Daltom’s expression didn’t change
as he suddenly gestured to the side. “We’re here. Stephan’s inside.”

I turned towards the direction he
was gesturing in surprise, it appeared like we had arrived at the tent much
quicker than I would have expected. I gave Daltom a tight smile. It looked like
he didn’t plan to finish his last thought, so I reached out a grabbed his hand,
squeezing it once before turning and pushing passed the flap. He didn’t follow
me, instead, standing just outside the
tent flap. I didn’t blame him; the second I stepped inside I could feel that
the mood inside the tent was very somber.  

The elder that I had spoken to
earlier stood just inside while Stephan stood near the body, staring at it
intently. The young man who had been murdered was laid out on a small cot. He
had a homemade blanket covering him, only leaving his lifeless face in view.
There were several candles burning nearby, and a small altar at the foot of the cot. It was filled with fruits, berries,
and a small bunny carcass in the middle.  

The elder glanced over when I
entered the tent, bowing his head slowly. Stephan glanced up, a tight smile
forming on his face. He lowered his hands.  

“Please tell me you’ve found
something,” I pleaded with him.  

Stephan shook his head sadly,
“I haven’t found anything conclusive. I’m fairly convinced Daniel did not
do this. I mean, apart from my trust for our werewolf friend, the motives just
don’t add up.”  

“What do you mean?” The
elder interrupted. 

“As I understand it, Daniel
is one of the strongest werewolves in your clan. On top of that, he had no
desire to bid for the Alpha. He had told Jane and Treena that very
fact.” 

“It is possible that he
lied,” the elder suggested.  

“Why was he out there,
anyway? Did he tell you anything?” I asked.  

“He told us that he wanted
to discuss being Alpha with Jorgan. He wouldn’t explain exactly what for. It’s
not too hard to imagine he asked his competition to quit. Jorgan refused, they
fought, and this man died. Daniel certainly had motivation there.”  

“True, but look at the
murder itself.” Stephan interjected, “He was stabbed with a knife.
Daniel could easily turn into werewolf form this close to the full moon. He
would have attacked with his claws and teeth, not a knife.”  

The elder shrugged, “That
means nothing. Perhaps, he wanted no evidence of his deed. You can trace back
claw marks and teeth marks to the original owner.”  

“Speaking of which,”
Stephan put his hand through his hair as he looked down at the body again,
“Whose knife was it?” 

The elder shrugged, “We are
not the CSI. We don’t have the ability to tell things like that.”  

“You’re telling me not one of you can smell the knife and trace it
back to the people who have held it?”  

“It smells mostly of
blood.” The elder put on a look of aggravation, but after exchanging a
look with Stephan for a brief moment, he relaxed his shoulders, “Fine, I
suppose I can go check again. Do not touch anything while I am
gone.” 

The elder turned, throwing the
tent flaps back and moving out. There was a squeak from Daltom’s surprise. Then
the flap shut, leaving me alone with Stephan. Stephan shook his head with a strange look on his face as I approached
him. 

“What is it?” I
asked. 

“It’s just that the elder…
no, all of the werewolves are being very difficult about this investigation.
It’s almost like they don’t want to know who did the murder. They all seem
perfectly happy pinning it on Daniel, even though when you really press them,
no one actually believes he did it.”  

“It was Bran,” I spoke
up, staring at the body.  

“Bran?” Stephan turned
back to me.  

“His grandfather was Stine.
The werewolf who attacked me, in the past.”  

Stephan nodded, “He would
certainly have the motivation to remove both Daniel and Jorgan from the running, but not necessarily the means. I
understand that Bran is one of the weakest in the pack. I really need to talk
to a witness. Daniel’s the only one who saw anything, but they won’t let me
near him.” 

“Then I guess we’ll just have
to depend on me winning the Triwerewolf Tournament is all.”  

Stephan smiled sadly, looking
over the dead body in front of him. It was so weird to imagine that Stephan was
also dead. If it wasn’t for the magic coursing through his veins, he’d be just as
motionless as the boy in front of him.  

“Hold on,” Stephan
stated, leaning forward, “He has some hair in his nails. He might have
grabbed the killer’s hair before being stabbed.  

Stephan put his hand on the dead
body, turning the stiff palm over to examine his nails. Jorgan’s eyes popped
open. Stephan jerked back, his eyes wide as he stared down at the dead
werewolf. The boy was very pale, paralleling Stephan’s dead look in a lot of
ways.  

“What?” The man asked
groggily as if he had just woken from a long sleep.  

“See?” I stammered,
“That’s what it’s like when you guys keep doing that to me!”  

Stephan gave me an exasperated
look before turning to the boy. “Are you… okay?” 

Jorgan stared blankly, his mouth
moved, but the words came out in barely a whisper.  

“What is that? I can’t hear
you.” Stephan asked, moving his ear closer to Jorgan’s mouth.  

The boy’s lips moved slowly as if he was in pain. As he spoke,
Stephan’s eyes grew wider.  

“What is this?” The
elder asked incredulously, the flap closing behind him.  

Stephan stood up as if he had
been goosed, putting his hands to his sides. Jorgan flopped back down on the
cot, his eyes closed, his body motionless. For a second, I wondered if I had ever witnessed him moving in the first place.
 

The elder glanced at the dead body and Stephan a few times before
asking cautiously, “What did he say?”  

“He told me to tell Daniel
he approves of his plan.”  

“What does that mean?”
the elder frowned, then put up his hand, “Never mind, what is done cannot
be undone, but I would ask that you leave. My people would not be happy to have
a Necromancer in their midst. Werewolves find that kind of work an
abomination.” 

“Necromancer?” Stephan
asked in surprise, looking down at his hands, “I’m not a necromancer. Just
an undead zombie.”  

The elder shrugged, looking
suspiciously, “Whatever you are, I’d rather you not defile the corpse any
farther, for the family’s sake.”  

The elder waited for Stephan to
nod before turning to me, “You don’t have much longer, you might want to
stop wasting time chasing after ghosts and prepare for the event.”

He immediately shoed the both of
us out of the tent. We grabbed Daltom and started walking away, but he
continued to glare at us from the tent flap for a minute until we were nearly
out of sight. Stephan had been staring at his own hand in confusion, but he
finally shook his head and looked over at me.

“Jane, do you have something on
your mind?’ He asked.

“It’s just… the elder just said
something now that got me thinking.”

“What’s that?” Daltom asked.

I gave a little smirk. “I think I
know how we can get in to speak with Daniel.”