Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Angelique »

Very good! It was a bit creep-tastic, getting into Stefan's head that way, and seeing Kurt's reactions!
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by The Drastic Spastic »

Spooky. Enjoyed it, thanks.
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

!!YAY!! Thanks, I'm so glad you liked it! I'll have the next part ready soon--I was hoping to finish it today, but that didn't happen. grrrrrrr!!! I am so SICK and TIRED of being SICK and TIRED!!!!!!!! Anyway, I've been wanting to write out the creepy Stefan part for a very, very long time and I'm very excited about what's in store. Stay tuned!!! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Update!! Hot off the presses, too. Hope you like it! :D


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Two
By Rowena

The hammering rain had softened to a light drizzle by the time the two brothers stepped out into the monastery garden. The hazy drops shimmered white and silver in the light from the lamp that hung over the wide oak door. Stefan stood in the center of the neatly tended garden and tilted his face up, spreading his arms to the sky.

“This air looms with the forthcoming,” he frowned. “But the night’s peace has been layered thickly within these garden walls.” Lowering his arms, he glanced around, his darting eyes sharp and thoughtful. “Yes,” he said slowly, “this is where they can be kept. This place shall serve for their protection, particularly now that you have come, my brother.”

Kurt shot his brother a dubious look, his tail twitching and his hands fisted in his pockets. Stefan had always had a habit of saying strange or unexpected things, but he had always made sense before. Now, however, it was as though he was speaking in some bizarre code, and Kurt had no idea how to crack it.

“Erm, that’s great, Stefan,” he said awkwardly. “You know, it’s kind of cold out here…do you want to go back in and—“

“Come to me, Kurt,” the tall monk interrupted sharply. “Let us walk together. I know you have much to say.”

“Not really,” Kurt grimaced, but he obligingly skirted the muddy puddles to fall into step by his brother’s side. “But I have to admit, Stefan, I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“In war there are always sacrifices,” Stefan told him somberly. “I am prepared to risk my sanity if it means the chance to win my freedom.”

“Freedom?” Kurt frowned. “Do you mean from the monks? But, Stefan, from what I’ve seen, they’re just trying to help—“

“No, no, no, not from the monks. They are my family—as you are,” Stefan said. “They think they are protecting me, but in reality it is only my constant vigilance that keeps them safe.”

Kurt sighed, shaking his head a bit helplessly. “Stefan,” he said, “you’re going to have to be clearer. I know you’re trying to tell me something, but I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That is precisely why I put my trust in you,” the monk said, his dark eyes intense with the solemn sadness of a Seer. “Remember your promise, Kurt. The time will soon come when you may be called upon to keep it.”

*******

Two weeks had passed since Stefan had offered Kurt his confusing, yet unsettling prophecy. And it was a prophecy. Kurt had realized that shortly after he had left Stefan to sleep and made his way to the neighboring cell the monks had been kind enough to offer him for the duration of his stay. The problem was, Kurt wasn’t sure how he was meant to interpret it, and Stefan refused to say any more on the subject. In fact, ever since that night in the garden, Stefan had been acting almost eerily normal. At least, that’s how Kurt viewed the radical change that had come over his brother. The monks, on the other hand, saw it as a great blessing, crediting Kurt’s presence as the healing influence that had guided their young brother back to health. Their relief at his “miraculous” cure was so great, even the distressing news that had started filtering in from the nearby town wasn’t enough to dampen their spirits. At least—not at first…

“Another child found murdered,” Brother Gottfried read somberly, shaking his head as he folded up the newspaper and placed it on the kitchen table. “That makes two, now.”

“I just can’t believe it,” Radulfus spoke up from the stove, where he was busily stirring three steaming pots and a sizzling pan. “How can something like this be happening? Winzeldorf is such an isolated little town—who could possibly commit such a crime?”

“Nobody knows,” Gottfried said, tapping the paper. “It says here that the police are baffled.”

Radulfus scowled into his soup. “Well, that’s certainly reassuring,” he frowned, angrily grinding some pepper into the pot. He was about to say more, but at that moment, the steam sent some pepper dust wafting back to his nose and he let loose with an explosive sneeze.

“Ach,” Gottfried made a face. “Not in the soup…!”

“Was it another orphan?” Kurt spoke up, his voice subdued.

“Sorry son, what was that?” Gottfried said, ripping his disgusted gaze away from the sniffling Radulfus.

“The second victim,” Kurt said softly. “Was it another orphan?”

Gottfried nodded with a sigh. “I believe it was,” he said sadly. “Do you think that could be important?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt shook his head. “But it’s probably a clue.”

“You’ve got a point, lad,” Radulfus said, half-turning from his soup pots. “Why would the killer be targeting these poor orphans? You know, the Winzeldorf Orphanage is operated by the nuns of St. Hildegard’s. Perhaps we should call them and—“

“And tell them what?” Gottfried scoffed. “Let the police handle this, Radulfus. It’s their job to get involved. If you want to be of help, I suggest you pray for the speedy capture of this depraved monster.”

Radulfus turned back to the stove with a pout. “Praying is all well and good, and it certainly has its place,” he said. “But I still think there are more active routes we could take. For example, some of us could volunteer to help out at the orphanage for a while—you know, bolster the ranks as it were.”

“Brother Gottfried is right,” Stefan’s deep voice sounded suddenly from the doorway startling them. “If the innocent are to be protected, we must pray for the safety of their souls. When evil walks the streets, all must be on their guard.”

“But don’t you see, lad, that’s exactly my point!” Radulfus exclaimed.

“No,” Stefan frowned. “You seek to intervene against forces you don’t understand. Do as Brother Gottfried suggests and, when the time comes, your prayers will be heard. This, I promise you.”

Aiming a significant glance at Kurt, Stefan ducked his head slightly and left the kitchen as silently as he had entered. Gottfried let out a long, slow breath, his eyes theatrically wide.

“Well, that was peculiar, I must say,” he commented. “Kurt, you don’t think he could be having another attack of that strange illness, do you?”

Kurt shook his head, his golden eyes troubled. “No. He was completely serious.” Suddenly, he stood, his long tail flicking the air in agitation. “Please excuse me,” he said, already heading for the door with quick strides.

Gottfried and Radulfus shared a look as they watched him go.

“When we pray for the children, I think we should add a few words for those two as well,” Gottfried commented.

“I already do, my friend,” Radulfus said, turning back to his cooking. “Every night.”

*******

Kurt lay on his narrow cot, his golden eyes fixed on the arched ceiling of his stone cell. Two children murdered within as many weeks, and not a single lead as to the identity of the criminal responsible. Kurt shivered, the springs under the thin mattress squeaking as he drew his knees up to his chest.

The whole concept was too horrible to contemplate, but the former acrobat couldn’t get it out of his head. His imagination kept running in morbid circles, flashing black-and-white images from the newspaper like a scene out of M—an old Fritz Lang horror film he had seen with Woodhead once, long ago. Starring Peter Lorre, the plot had revolved around the hunt for a serial pedophile and child-murderer. Never had a movie disturbed him more, or left such a lasting impression of terror. Now, it seemed thathorrific film was being played out in living color less than two miles from his monastic haven.

Kurt groaned and rolled off the cot, striding over to his cell’s single, small window. From this vantage point, he could just barely see the lights from the town below. It was a peaceful, picturesque sight made eerie by the knowledge that somewhere among those pale, twinkling lights, a mad killer was on the loose.

Just then, the creak of a door echoed through the darkened corridor outside his room. Kurt jumped, wide-eyed and alert…but then he heard the voices—just a couple of tired monks wishing each other good night.

Kurt shook his head, struggling to slow his pounding heart. He didn’t know why he was so edgy. It wasn’t as though the murderer would target him, after all. But he couldn’t shake the disturbing feeling that, somehow, he and the murderer were linked.

His mind flashed back to that moment in Hamburg, when he had felt a rage so deep and so strong it had left him teetering on the brink of murderous violence. If it hadn’t been for Amanda’s timely interference, Kurt feared that rage would truly have led him to bash Jardine’s head to pulp against the nearest wall. Could Margali’s demon have possessed him that night? Could it have possibly followed him to Winzeldorf?

Kurt was suddenly wracked with a deep shudder, fighting to shake that thought off as ridiculous. But it faded only to be replaced with other memories, even more terrible. As though experiencing a waking nightmare, he saw Sabu falling from the trapeze, he saw that look of knowing horror darkening his eyes as they both realized Kurt wouldn’t be able to reach him in time… He saw himself huddled by Sabu’s side, his beloved mentor lying dead in a spreading pool of his own blood…

All this death, all this horror, all at once—it had to be more than a coincidence. Kurt closed his eyes and sighed, wishing he was nine years old again and that Stefan was still the wise older brother he had once idolized. He ached to discuss his growing fears with someone, but the monks wouldn’t understand, and Stefan’s responses lately were more cryptic than clarifying. If only Amanda hadn’t left--!

Another sound from the corridor interrupted his thoughts, and he crossed the room, his pointed ears pricked and straining to hear through the heavy silence of night. Footfalls—they were almost too light to make out, but Kurt recognized them at once. Stefan was walking down the hall in soft shoes, his gait slow and careful, as though he didn’t want to be heard.

Kurt wasn’t sure why he decided to do what he did next. Stefan was probably just on his way to the bathroom, or to the kitchen to grab a midnight snack. However, despite the protests of his rational mind, Kurt felt strangely compelled to open his door and sneak out after him. He didn’t really like the idea of trailing his brother like this, but as he followed him out of the monastery and into the dark, hazy night, he managed to convince himself he was just looking out for Stefan’s welfare. After all, if by some chance he was having another attack, it was Kurt’s duty as a brother to bring him safely back to bed.

*******

Two golden eyes peered over the dense hedge, glowing dark and malicious as they watched the young monk make his way down the narrow mountain path towards the sleeping town. Blinking, Belasco grinned and rubbed his taloned hands together in satisfaction—only to freeze when he spotted another, smaller figure slinking through the shadows some ten feet behind the monk.

“What is he doing here?” the russet-skinned demon hissed angrily to himself, pushing several stiff branches aside so he could get a better look. “He could not have been sent by Margali…”

“No, Belasco,” a deep, somber voice sounded from behind him. The demon snarled and spun around, his long tail lashing like a whip. “Young Wagner is here at my will.”

“So, it’s you,” Belasco sneered, his lean face twisted with contempt as he looked the cloaked newcomer up and down. “You don’t seriously think you can scare me off with that boy, do you? Don’t forget the demon blood also runs through his veins.”

“I have not forgotten,” the imposing man frowned beneath his black hair, his dark eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light of the crescent moon. “As I have not forgotten the blood pact that brought it there.”

Belasco glared. “The Szardos brat is mine by right, Strange,” he snarled. “His soul was promised to me!”

Dr. Strange shook his head. “The Sorceress’s pact was a life for a life,” he pointed out. “How is it, then, that Sabu is dead while Jardine still lives?”

“A simple miscalculation,” the demon growled. “The change in cast was unexpected. It was the girl who was supposed to die. As for Jardine, his soul is no prize. It will be mine in due time, and with no assistance on my part.”

The powerful sorcerer crossed his arms, making his tall figure seem even more imposing as he stared down the wiry demon. “I have come with a warning, Belasco,” he stated grimly. “Leave Szardos alone.”

The demon narrowed his glowing eyes to sly slits. “And why should I?” he smirked. “What is your interest in the monk?”

Dr. Strange just frowned, the dark gem on his chest glinting. “I said let him be. If you continue on this path, you will have to deal with me.”

Belasco snorted. “He is half ours already, Sorcerer,” he scorned. “And as the burgeoning power within him grows stronger, so will my influence. You are backing a losing battle, Strange. Why don’t you just accept the inevitable and leave the boy to me?”

“I will remain as long as Stefan himself continues to fight,” Strange proclaimed, his long cape billowing in the wind. “The Winding Way embraces both the dark and the light. Like Nature herself, it plays no favorites. I, however, have taken a personal interest in the children of Margali Szardos, and I will use every resource in my power to protect them. Consider yourself warned.”

Spreading his arms, the great sorcerer wrapped his cape around himself with a theatrical flourish, vanishing from the roadside without a sound. Belasco glowered at the spot where he had stood for a long, thoughtful moment. Then, slowly, his thin lips stretched into a smirk, his golden eyes glowing with defiant challenge. Turning on his booted heel, the cloaked demon peered down the steep path to where Stefan and Kurt were now little more than dark dots fading in the distance. When they reached the town, he would be waiting—Strange or no Strange.


To Be Continued…

:bamf

[Edited on 29/6/06 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
Rowena
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hellooo??? If anyone's still reading this, I'd really appreciate some opinions on the last bit? I introduced a new character into the mix and I've really been wondering if it was effective or not. I haven't gotten a single review anywhere, even after I revised the chapter, so I'm starting to get a bit...angsty... I know it's that "divine dissatisfaction" with my own work coming into play (see Northstar's poem for details), but it's doing so in force and I'd really appreciate some feedback!

Thank you!
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by HoodedMan »

Hey, just like I've been saying on the other fics, don't worry! All us lazy ficreaders will come around soon; I will, when I'm back from vacation so look forward to my review! Don't get discouraged. :)
ACHTUNG! Alles touristen und non-technischen looken peepers! Das computermachine ist nicht fuer gefingerpoken und mittengrabben. Ist easy schnappen der springenwerk, blowenfusen und poppencorken mit spitzensparken. Ist nicht fuer gewerken bei das dumpkopfen. Das rubbernecken sichtseeren keepen das cotten-pickenen hans in das pockets muss; relaxen und watchen das blinkenlichten.
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by HoodedMan »

Hey, synchronised with the entire FV&TTT forum before I left on the train and read your story; god bless Amtrak! As you know, I had read some of the early parts but I in fact reviewed the entire story again to refresh my memory; I really loved it and I do eagerly await more!

I've said it quite a few times but I'll say it again; I love the characterisation. The characters are vibrant and alive, and the level of detail used in this story easily enables the reader to picture every scene in his or her mind undoubtedly in the same way as the author.

I am waiting for what you hinted at in the preview, though. That's why I never write those things; they always come back to bite you in the butt. ;) Don't leave us hanging!
ACHTUNG! Alles touristen und non-technischen looken peepers! Das computermachine ist nicht fuer gefingerpoken und mittengrabben. Ist easy schnappen der springenwerk, blowenfusen und poppencorken mit spitzensparken. Ist nicht fuer gewerken bei das dumpkopfen. Das rubbernecken sichtseeren keepen das cotten-pickenen hans in das pockets muss; relaxen und watchen das blinkenlichten.
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi Everyone! I'm back from my vacation in California and I have an update!!! :D

Thanks so much, Northstar! I hope you like this next scene, and if you see any errors or typos or awkward bits, just let me know and I'll fix them right up! :D


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Three
By Rowena

Kurt knew better than to risk following his brother through streets to the town center. A small number of bars and restaurants were still open, as well as the area’s only cinema. So, to avoid being seen he kept to the rooftops, scuttling from shadow to shadow with an eye constantly fixed on Stefan.

To Kurt’s surprise, it was the town’s small cinema where Stefan finally stopped. He frowned down at him from the sloped roof of the quiet, darkened building across the street, one hand pressed against the chimney. It was far too late to catch a movie—the last show couldn’t have more than half an hour left to run. Besides, Kurt knew Stefan had never had much patience or interest in movies. The one time he had accompanied Kurt and Woodhead to see Scaramouche (starring Stewart Granger and Mel Ferrer), he had fallen asleep within the first fifteen minutes and snored all through the climactic dueling sequence. Kurt couldn’t imagine what had brought him here—until he saw the young monk stride up to the bored-looking girl behind the ticket counter.

The girl brightened at once and waved him closer with a grin. Kurt goggled when he saw the normally stoic Stefan actually return her grin in kind. The two of them talked for a long time. Kurt couldn’t catch any of their words from his rooftop perch, but he could hear their laughter. He stared, confused and more than a little uncomfortable with this peculiar turn of events.

The girl took Stefan’s hand, sandwiching it gently between her own. Her expression was sincere as she looked up into his eyes…

Kurt’s frown deepened and he leaned forward, his tail lashing behind him. There was no way he could be seeing what he thought he was seeing. Stefan had taken vows—couldn’t that girl tell she was talking to a monk? Yet there they were, grinning at each other across the counter.

Kurt had never seen Stefan like this before, and to tell the truth it was really starting to creep him out. He was debating whether he should teleport down there to demand to know what was going on, when the door beside the counter opened and a small crowd, consisting mainly of teenagers and a few adults, came filing out. The girl gave Stefan’s hand a friendly pat, then broke away to disappear inside the building. She returned a few moments later, leading a string of six young children by the hand.

These children also seemed familiar with Stefan, and they crowded around him with excited smiles, chattering a mile a minute. And Stefan, rather than shying away with a frown as Kurt had always known him to do, seemed perfectly at home in the happy little group, ruffling the children’s hair and gently wiping traces of chocolate from the corners of their mouths. Kurt sat back in bewilderment, clutching a hand to his curls as if he were trying to keep his head from spinning.

What was going on? Who were these children? Could it be that Stefan was leading some secret life beyond the walls of the monastery? From the way everyone was acting, it was clear this was a pretty common scene. But then, why had Stefan left his cell so furtively?

Kurt was so preoccupied with his musings that he almost missed it when Stefan and the children waved their good-byes to the ticket-girl and headed off down the street. Kurt scrambled to follow, leaping gracefully from rooftop to rooftop as silently as a cat. He needed to know where they were going. Suddenly, the sight of Stefan in the midst of so many children made him more uneasy than ever before.

*******

Stefan led the string of children down the sloping streets towards a rambling old three-story brick building that stood beside a narrow, rushing stream. Only one window was lit, on the ground floor near the imposing front door. Carved into the wall just over the stained metal awning, crumbling letters spelled out “St. Hildegard’s Orphanage.”

Slowing his pace, Stefan raised a finger to his lips. The children silenced their chatter at once and followed stealthily as Stefan crept around the back. Kurt trailed them, clinging to the shadows like a ghost. He watched from behind a tree as Stefan stopped at a smooth, metal door with no latch or knob. It had been propped open by a child’s small, black sneaker. Picking up the shoe, Stefan held the door as the children slipped inside under his arm, then followed them. The brown door swung closed behind him with a heavy sound.

Kurt jaunted to the door without really knowing why. His mind and emotions were in a conflicting whirl. What could Stefan possibly be doing in there? And why did he have the kids sneaking around instead of going in through the front door? Hundreds of possible answers swirled through his head, but all of them seemed terribly out of character for the normally straight-laced, somber Stefan. Kurt sighed and leaned his back against the rough brick wall. He would just have to wait and confront Stefan when he finally emerged.

Kurt had sunk into a crouch and was idly braiding together a clump of long grasses when the snap of a twig made him jump. Surging to his feet, he peered through the shadows under the trees, but he saw nothing. Figuring it was just a squirrel, Kurt turned around—only to let out a startled cry when he found himself staring straight into a pair of coldly glowing yellow eyes.

“That’s right, boy,” the owner of those cruel eyes hissed, his sharp fangs clenched in a dangerous scowl as he advanced on Kurt. “Back away. Slink back to your cloistered cell and stay there. This is none of your affair.”

Kurt just blinked, to terrified even to react to the demon’s words. There was no doubt in his mind that the creature standing before him was a demon. His lean face was set in an expression of cold malice, offset by a pair of sharply pointed ears that poked up through his short, red hair. His skin was like red leather, only a shade lighter than the russet cloak that swirled from his shoulders down to his calf-high boots. But possibly most disturbing of all was the demon’s spaded tail, which was lashing behind him in a manner that mirrored Kurt’s own.

“Wh-who are you?” Kurt managed to stammer, reaching blindly behind him for the solidity and support of the wall.

The demon grinned, causing Kurt to shudder. “So, you really don’t know?” Belasco said, stepping even closer. “We’ve met before, you know—but then, you were somewhat…distracted at the time.”

“What are you talking about?” Kurt demanded, pressed fully against the wall by now. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“But I’ve seen you,” the demon smirked. “I’ve been watching you, Kurt Wagner. I’ve had my eye on you ever since that night in Hamburg…when your hesitation cost the life of your beloved mentor, Sabu.”

Beneath his fur, Kurt’s indigo skin paled to an ashy blue. “Oh, God,” he breathed. “But-but that can’t be why you’re here! It was an accident—you have to believe it was an accident! I didn’t mean for him to die!”

“Yet the fact remains that he is dead,” Belasco stated coldly. “And at your hand.”

“No…” Kurt choked. “I’m no murderer!” The demon’s smirk broadened.

“How does it feel, Kurt Wagner? The knowledge that you caused the death of another man?”

“But I didn’t!” Kurt exclaimed desperately. “The trapeze was faulty; the wire snapped! There was nothing I could have done to save him! So—so, go back to wherever it is you came from, because I won’t go with you. I don’t care what you do—I’ll fight!”

Belasco laughed, throwing his head back in a long, malevolent cackle. Kurt glared, still frightened but starting to get angry too.

“Little fool,” the demon spat. “You’re far too easy. You protest your innocence, but admit it, boy. You feel the guilt for that Hungarian’s death so deeply, you truly would accept the blame if I pushed you but a little further.” Belasco sneered then, leaning in and bringing his lips so close to Kurt’s ear the young man couldn’t repress a deep shudder of revulsion.

“You disgust me,” Belasco hissed, low and deep. “You think I came here for you? Your arrogance is amazing. Your puny spirit holds no interest for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Kurt glared. “Why talk to me, if I’m so uninteresting?”

“I’ve come to warn you, Kurt Wagner,” the demon hissed. “You suffer now under the guilt of an imagined killing. If you don’t want the burden of an actual murder on your soul, go back to your monastery and stay there. Cloister yourself up behind its walls. If you discount this warning, I promise you: the next time you venture out the door, you will find the killer the town seeks is you.”

Kurt tried to back away, but the demon grabbed his arm, his thick talons digging painfully into his sleeve.

“It was I who caused your mentor’s death,” he snarled. “I sabotaged the trapeze wires at the request of your foster mother, the Sorceress Margali. –Listen now, don’t pull away! I did this for a reason. Your dear mother has stolen something from me—something very precious and powerful. In return, she has promised me recompense in blood. And I intend to collect.”

“So, you were the demon she summoned,” Kurt realized. “And now you’re after that blood sacrifice?” Kurt glared, his face beginning to flush as his anger rose. “If you tell me you’ve had anything to do with those child murders—”

Belasco laughed again, even harder than before. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat, little freak? Your family truly has kept you in the dark, haven’t they? But then, who could blame them.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m done wasting words on you,” Belasco snarled. “It is clear you comprehend nothing. Return to your home and stay out of my affairs. And remember my warning to you, boy. If you dare try to interfere with me, I will personally introduce you to agonies you could not conceive in even your most horrific nightmares.”

With a final glare, the demon took a step back and vanished in a BAMF of sulfurous smoke. Kurt started at the sight and swallowed hard, tentatively reaching out to bat the rapidly dispersing smoke with his fingers. Could that be what it looked like when he jaunted?

“Kurt! Kurt, what are you doing here?”

It was Stefan’s voice. Kurt snapped his head around in alarm, his eyes wide. Stefan slowed, then stopped, apparently concerned.

“Kurt, what is it? You look like you’ve just seen a—”

He trailed off, taking a good, long look at Kurt’s face. After a moment, his eyes darkened and his expression settled into a familiar frown. “A demon,” he finished with strangely calm assurance. Placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, he said, “Come on, Kurt. There’s something I want to tell you.”

*******

“So you’ve been acting as the orphans’ escort in the town?”

Stefan shrugged. “Only for the past few weeks. Since the murders, Mother Christina has forbidden the orphans to leave the grounds for any purpose. But Sister Catherine felt that such a severe restriction would lead several of the more rowdy children to run off on their own, so she contacted me and together we worked out this little arrangement. The orphans get a few hours of freedom, and we make sure they’re safe.”

“I have to admit I’m surprised,” Kurt said, his shoulders hunched against the chilly wind as they hiked their way back up to the monastery. “Breaking the rules like this? It really doesn’t sound like you.”

“No,” Stefan acknowledged.

“Then why did you agree?”

“Because of you.” Stefan shot his brother a small smile. “I remembered how much you loved going to the movies as a child, despite all the warnings and the danger of being seen. You hated feeling cooped up, the same as those children. So, rather than risk them sneaking out on their own, where they could be snatched by demons, I agreed to Sister Catherine’s proposal.”

“Demons?” Kurt looked startled. “Wait, do you mean that demon I met…is he after those children? Tell me the truth.”

“Belasco?” Stefan shook his head with a wry look. “No, not him. He’s after larger game.”

“Then what demons do you mean? Just how many of them are there?”

Stefan smirked. “Believe me, little brother, you don’t want to know. The demons travel the underside of the Winding Way and draw their strength from the dark places. There are many, many kinds of all degrees of power. The demons I’m after are small. They feed off fear and hopelessness; emotions those orphans and abandoned children feel all too often. The demons drain them dry, and then take over their minds and their souls. Since I came here, I have taken it upon myself to protect them. It was my unexpected…illness…that gave those demons the opening they needed to attack. Unfortunately, this time it ended in death.” The monk hung his head with a shaky sigh.

“All this evil stems from that Amos Jardine,” he said coldly. “Mother would never have forced us back onto the Winding Way had he not bought out her precious circus. And now…”

He sighed again. “Belasco showed himself to you tonight,” he said. “That is a bad sign. It means he feels he is in a position of strength, and that does not bode well…not for you, not for the children, and not for me. We’re both going to have to be exceedingly vigilant from here on in, Kurt. You and I are the only ones who know the truth.”

He turned his head, staring at Kurt with eyes so black they seemed to absorb the pale starlight. “With Belasco prowling the town, the real danger has just begun.”


To be continued!

:bamf

[Edited on 2/9/06 by Rowena]

[Edited on 16/2/2007 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Bamfing_Bob »

Well, I aced the first test and got about a 50 or 60 and the harder one. Of course, I only have like 25 to thirty comics with Nightcrawler so yeah... I was stumped on a few.
For funny tweets from NIGHTCRAWLER, follow my humor account http://www.twitter.com/fuzzybluejerk and spread it around to your comic friends!
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hiya!

Hey, cool! It's great to know people are still enjoying that quiz after all this time!

I know it's been a while, but here’s a little something to show I’m still alive. By hook or by crook, I’ll finish this book, and my other stories too. But I’ll need your support if I’m to do that, so please, please review!


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Four point One
By Rowena

Stefan Szardos stood by his window, his dark eyes fixed on the pattern of shadows that marked the face of the moon.

The night air was cold and his robes thin, yet the young monk was sweating. He could feel the pull, the draw of the dark power that called to him, whispered to him, caressed his mind and caused his skin to tingle. It was dizzying, the intoxicating promise of the Way. So much power—he could feel it coursing through him, his hands trembling as he fought to hold it all in.

It would be such an easy thing to let it take hold, to relax his grip and allow the power to consume him. He had done it before—twice now he had succumbed to the whispers. To temptation. But not again. Not again. He had promised Kurt so long ago… He had said it was up to him to make sure his brother was never called upon to keep his blood oath, and he had meant it with every fiber of his being.

But he was tired…so very tired… And the voices were growing ever stronger…

Clasping his shaking hands, Stefan closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as he struggled to calm his breathing and his mind.

“Memorare, o piisima Virgo Maria, non esse auditum a saeculo, quemquam ad tua currentem praesidia, tua implorantem auxilia, tua petentem suffragia esse derelicta. Nos tali animati confidentia ad te, Virgo Virginum, Mater, currimus; ad te venimus; coram te gementes peccatores assistimus. Noli, Mater Verbi, verba nostra despicere, sed audi propitia et exaudi...” (1)

The plea was heartfelt and sincere, the words of the prayer as familiar as they were soothing. The Latin words fell from his tongue without conscious thought, as though they were a part of him. As he spoke, he could feel his shoulders falling, feel his face relaxing…

“Brother Stefan?”

And suddenly, it was back, the tension surging into his muscles as he spun to face the intruder.

“What do you want?” The words were strained, hoarse, but at the moment he didn’t care. Brother Radulfus looked startled, but that only lasted a moment.

“I came to see if you were well, Brother,” the large monk said, leaning a hand against the doorframe. “I noticed you didn’t come down for your meals today. We’re concerned that—“

“Your concern is unnecessary,” Stefan snapped. “I’m fine. Now go. Leave me alone!”

But the stubborn Radulfus only adjusted his stance, blocking even more of the doorway.

“I’d say you’ve been left on your own rather too long, Brother,” he frowned. “We all know how you suffer in your mind. But Stefan, son, whatever is tormenting you, you needn’t lock yourself away. We’re supposed to be a community here. Perhaps if you talked to us, allowed us to share some of your burden, or at least understand it—“

Stefan barked a scoffing laugh. “I did that once,” he said, his voice thick with pain. “Long ago, I shared my terrors with one I trust above all others. And now I fear the both of us will pay the price for my weakness. Soon, so very, very soon… The time grows ever nearer… And I—I…”

He gasped, clutching his head with both hands, his fingers tangling in his hair. “I can’t stop it… I can’t— It’s in my head, Radulfus…such power! I can see everything….so clearly. I can see them. They’re out tonight. They’re roaming the streets. The demons. You can’t see them. No one can see them. That’s why it’s up to me. I have to stop them. I have to stop them before they take more children!”

“Stefan!” Radulfus rushed over to the trembling young man, taking him firmly by the shoulders. “Stefan, stop this! Stop this nonsense and listen to me!”

The older monk leaned back until he could look his delirious friend straight in the eye. What he saw there filled his heart with pity.

“Oh…you poor boy,” he frowned, shaking his head. “It’s no wonder you’re off your head. You’ve kept yourself cooped up in this bleak old cell all day with no food and no drink and only your thoughts for company. What you need, my boy, is a good night’s sleep to clear your head. In the morning, I’ll fix you a hearty breakfast. Things always seem brighter with food in your belly. Now, come lie down—“

Radulfus started to guide the young man to his cot, but Stefan twisted away from his grasp with a fierce snarl.

“You fool!” he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Do you think you can stop me?”

“Stefan, you’re not well,” Radulfus stated, reaching out to him again. “Look, you stay here, all right? I’ll fetch you something to help you sleep.”

“No!”

Black eyes blazing, Stefan pushed the older man’s arm away, ramming his shoulder into his chest with surprising force. The startled monk stumbled back, helpless to stop himself as he crashed against the wall, the back of his head colliding with the stones with a dull thwack. Stefan watched in satisfaction as Radulfus slumped to the floor, unconscious, his head lolling to one side.

“That will show you,” he muttered to himself, a mad little smile stretching across his pale face. “You can’t stop me. No one can stop me now…”

Leaving the unconscious Radulfus slumped in an ungainly heap on the floor, Stefan threw on a cloak and dashed for the door, a low cackle starting deep in his throat.

“At last it is time. Time to complete my work… At last, at last…at last…”

*******

(1) Here’s the translation of the prayer Stefan was saying in his room—Memorare: To Remember.

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, we fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins and Mother; to thee do we come; before thee do we stand, sinful and sorrowful; O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not our petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer us…


Hope that was OK. More coming soon! :D

[Edited on 22/1/0707 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

“Kurt! Kurt, wake up!”

Kurt moaned sleepily, his tail twitching under his blanket. “Wha?” he slurred through a yawn. “Wha-what is it?”

Opening his eyes, he saw the dark shape of Brother Radulfus leaning over him, his broad face twisted with pain and guilt.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry,” the monk said, swaying slightly as he pressed a hand to the back of his head with a pained wince. Kurt was up at once, reaching out to offer his friend a steadying hand.

“Oh my—are you all right?” he asked in alarm, noting with no small concern that the monk was having trouble focusing on him. “What happened? You look like you have a concussion!”

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” Radulfus insisted, trying to push the worried Kurt away. “It’s your brother, Kurt. Stefan. He’s run away.”

Kurt’s heart froze in his chest. “What? When?”

“I don’t know. Hours ago now,” Radulfus moaned. “It’s my fault. I thought I could talk to him, but he was having another one of his episodes, ranting about demons... I tried, but I couldn’t stop him. And now he’s out there, on his own…”

Kurt swore under his breath, his sharp teeth clenched.

“Kurt, I’m sorry. I thought I could help…”

“No, it isn’t your fault,” Kurt assured the dizzy monk, wrapping his arm around the man’s broad shoulders. “Here, lean on me,” he said. “I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

“But what about your brother?” Radulfus protested, his voice getting steadily weaker. “In the state he’s in—“

“Don’t worry,” Kurt interrupted, struggling not to show how much it was straining him to support the larger man. “I’ll find him. But first I’m going to find you some help. Come on. One step at a time.”

*******

…tap tap…tap tap…

“Did you hear that?”

…tap tap…tap tap…

“Radulfus? Radulfus, are you still with me?”

The woozy monk raised his head with a soft moan. “It’s…something’s tapping...” he rasped. “’S probably the pipes…so old…keep me up half the night…”

“No,” Kurt frowned, stopping their progress down the ancient stone corridor so he could listen. “It’s getting closer. I think someone’s coming.”

…tap tap…tap tap…

A sudden draft ruffled Kurt’s hair, and he shivered, cautiously backing Radulfus into a shadowed alcove behind a nearby pillar. Silently, the pair watched as a bent, wispy form materialized from out of the darkness, a worn, knobby staff clutched in his wasted hand. The stranger was swathed in dark robes, like the brothers, his face hidden by his cowl. Yet, around his neck hung a strange, red amulet, a glinting, glowing stone no monk would wear. The sight sent a shudder running down Kurt’s spine, some unfamiliar instinct warning him this man was not what he appeared to be.

…tap tap…tap tap…

“Who is that,” Radulfus hissed in Kurt’s ear, his large form trembling as the specter came steadily closer. “What’s going on?” But before Kurt could answer, the tapping came to a stop, leaving the stranger standing in a patch of moonlight. Spreading his arms, the shriveled man raised his face to the light, revealing his white, milky eyes.

“Kurt Wagner,” he intoned, his thin voice resonating off the stones. “The demon child with the noble heart. You intend to follow your brother tonight. But you’ll not find him. Not now, not here. The son of Szardos has fallen, but his soul is not lost yet.”

Kurt swallowed, sharing a look with Radulfus before stepping out into the corridor.

“Who are you?” he demanded, though he was unable to keep a slight tremble from his voice. The old man shook his head.

“Still so innocent,” he said. “But I can feel your strength. I pray you’ll not be broken by the pain that is to come.”

“Pain?” Kurt frowned. “What pain? Where’s Stefan? Tell me where he’s gone!”

“The demon’s trap is set,” the blind man pronounced. “His quarry has taken the bait. Belasco will collect his blood sacrifice before the night is through. And so it must be—unless you intercede. I fear young Stefan will be in dire need of your presence this night.”

“Why?” Kurt demanded, his tail lashing agitatedly behind him. “What’s going to happen tonight?”

But the old man did not answer. Instead, he lowered his head, fixing Kurt with his unseeing eyes. “Remember your promise, Kurt Wagner,” he said. “You swore a blood oath on your own soul.”

Kurt gasped, stumbling back as though he’d been punched. “What…what are you— How do you know that?”

The old man closed his blind eyes, his jaw set with a resolute sadness. “My time is limited,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Kurt. So sorry…”

“Wait—don’t leave!” Kurt pleaded, reaching out before the old man could turn away. “Please…you still haven’t told me who you are!”

But the man had vanished, silently and without a trace. For a long moment, Kurt stared at the place he had been, frozen with disbelief. It was Radulfus who finally broke the silence.

“You must go, Kurt,” the injured monk said softly, shuffling into the open with his hand pressed to his head. “I can make it to the infirmary on my own. But your brother needs you. He needs you to bring him back home.”

Kurt was about to protest, but Radulfus locked eyes with him in a silent struggle until, at last, Kurt nodded. Turning away, the young mutant pounded down the corridor on all fours, charging toward the narrow, winding staircase. Radulfus watched him go with a sigh, then staggered back against the wall, the world fading out around him as he collapsed heavily to the floor.


To Be Continued...

[Edited on 16/2/2007 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Trigger »

Hey Rowena, I have a quick question for you. Recently my creative writing teacher gave us an assighnment to go out on the web and find some fansites where people post unpublished stories just for the love of writing (fun-writers is what she said). I'm supposed to find a well written story and compare it in a speech to a modern published work to see which work conveys the most passion for writing. It's suppose to compare the people writing for fun and the people writing for money. Anyway I was looking through some sites when I came across your story, and I was wondering if I could use you and your story for my project. I promise all credit will be given where it is due. Feel free to decline if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I'll still continue reading and loving your story.
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi, Trigger!

Erm...wow. I'd love to help you out with your school project, and I really appreciate it that you asked my permission before using my story. I'm currently a student myself, but I plan to be a teacher and I think that's a very interesting idea on your teacher's part. I'd like a little more information on what would be involved, though. Would I need to answer questions? Would I be able to take a look at your speech? Also, I'm curious to know a bit more about you. It's always nice to know who's reading my stuff! :D

If you want to contact me directly, my e-mail address is chrestomanci1701@yahoo.com. And if you're interested, all my fanfiction stories are collected at http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/

Thanks again for asking me. I'm enormously flattered that you liked my story enough to consider it for your project. By the way, I have that exact action figure. It's sitting on my desk. :D

[Edited on 15/2/2007 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Trigger »

Stuff about me huh? Well I'm currently a high school senior who is aspiring to be an English teacher. Obiviously I'm a Nightcrawler fan, so a sight like this is pretty much a dream come true.

There's not too much I really need to know for the project. I might need to know what motivated you to write this story, but most of the stuff is suppose to be infered from the wrighting itself. I'll e-mail you later when my teacher gives us more details. As for a copy of the speech thats going to be difficult. It's supposed to be impromptu to help us come up with ideas on the spot. Kind of like an exercise for getting rid of writters block. I won't even know what piece I'll have to compare it to untill the day of the speech. If you want though I can give you a quick synopsis of the speech when I'm done with it. I can't garantee I'll remember everything though. I tend to draw a blank when I get in front of the class.:blush
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Yeah, it's a pretty awesome site, huh. The people here are great too! I haven't had time to contribute much lately because of school (sniff) but I do try to check up on stuff when I can. :D

OK, then. I'll look forward to getting your e-mail! A quick synopsis would be appreciated--I have to admit I'm curious about what you'll be comparing my story to!

I get all nervous when I have to talk in front of the class too. Jotting down some notes can help, but I find if you think of it as just explaining something to a group of friends--you know, like a movie you saw or a trip you took--it helps calm the butterflies a little. ;)

Good luck with your class and your project. And thanks again for asking me! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

And now for a little update! Here's the start of Part Five, in which the fight begins at last. Hope you like it!

Small Steps, Great Leaps
Scene Seven, Part Five point One
By Rowena

The moon was high over the churchyard, its pale rays highlighting the shadows cast by the uneven memorial statues and stones. In the far corner, a man was digging, the dull, steady rhythm shattering the stillness of the night. He worked without pause, grunting with the effort of tearing up the earth and sod, piercing deep into the cold, hard ground.

Beside him lay three bundles. They were small, each wrapped loosely in frayed, faded blankets. Two were already streaked with dirt and dry grass, but the third was relatively clean. The man had laid them out in a neat row, a threadbare plush rabbit propped against the smallest.

Belasco laughed low in his throat, reveling in the scene from his treetop perch. There was a shimmer of red-gold light, and suddenly the old, blind man was standing at the base of the tree, his milky eyes turned to the stars.

“The ancient powers are gathering,” he commented, as if speaking to himself. “Can you feel it?”

Belasco glared down at him in annoyance. “You’re too late, fool,” he snapped. “The son of Margali is already mine. His fate is inevitable. You know that as well as I do.”

“I know no such thing,” the old man responded lightly, keeping his eyes fixed on the sky. “Inevitable is simplistic word, an excuse used by those with only a limited understanding of time. The shape of the future isn’t fixed. If it were, neither of us would be here, would we.”

“Empty words,” the demon growled, his spiteful eyes burning like cinders through the darkness.

“Perhaps,” the man allowed. “Perhaps not. Look there.”

Belasco turned his head in time to see a slender shape detach itself from the shadows of the night, slinking across the open space between the trees until it reached the cemetery's wrought-iron gate.

“No…!” the demon hissed, causing the old man’s smile to sharpen.

“The boy has come to fulfill his childhood oath,” he said. “You may just have to leave empty handed tonight, Belasco.”

With a furious snarl, the demon leapt off his branch, his clawed hands reaching for the blind man’s throat. But the old man was too quick. He jumped back, fingering the red amulet that hung at his chest. There was another shimmer as his bent, wasted body straightened, broadened, unfolding into the formidable, cloaked form of Dr. Strange.

Belasco rose slowly from his crouched landing, angrily brushing the twigs and dried leaves from his blood-red cape. Strange glared at the shorter demon, his dark eyes hard.

“This is your final warning, Belasco,” the sorcerer stated. “Leave now, and Stefan can still be saved. Stay, and I shall do all in my power to prevent you from taking him.”

Belasco’s eyes flickered for a moment, and he scowled. “You still haven't told me, Strange,” he said. “Why this vested interest in Margali’s son? He would be no asset to you. His powers are as unstable as his mind.”

“Just like a demon to consider a human soul in terms of ‘assets,’” the sorcerer scoffed. “What course do you choose?”

Belasco snarled, baring his pointed teeth. “Stubborn fool," he growled. “I've told you, the Szardos brat is mine. I’ll not back down from my claim, not for you or anyone.”

“Then have it your way.”

Strange frowned and raised his arms, raw energy crackling up from the earth and across his body, sizzling between his fingertips and filling his eyes with power.

“Our duel begins now!”

To Be Continued…

More soon! Stay tuned!
Reviews always welcome! :D

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Trigger »

Dr. Strange vs. Belasco... This will be interesting.:D
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Thanks, Trigger! :D

You'll see what Strange and Belasco are up to in the next part, but here at long, long last is that long-hinted-at scene where Kurt finally confronts Stefan. Hope it's OK!


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Five point Two
By Rowena

Kurt approached the cemetery gate with a cold sense of foreboding. He wasn’t sure why he’d come looking here, of all places. He’d initially expected to find Stefan wandering the monastery garden, or perhaps stalking the streets of the town, angry over what he had done to Radulfus and unable to sleep.

For some reason, though, his feet had led him to this place: the small churchyard that surrounded the old ruins of what had once been the monastery chapel. Many of the graves here dated back to the Thirty Years War and even earlier—to the middle ages, when the monastery was initially founded. It was a quiet, solitary place, well kept but rarely visited save by the occasional university scholar.

That was why Kurt was so surprised to hear the sounds of shoveling coming from within the wrought-iron fence.

Keeping close to the shadows, he passed through the gate, his sharp golden eyes sweeping the desolate space as he searched for the source of the rhythmic scraping sounds. There seemed to be a strange energy in the air, making it seem oddly warmer than it was. It pulsed inside his ears, like the thrumming bass of a distant engine, causing the fur on his arms to stand on end. He shivered, disconcerted and frightened—until he spotted something that made all his nebulous uncertainties coalesce in one sharp stab of freezing horror.

A dark shape was crouching in the shadows between the standing stones, a man in long robes, his attention completely taken by something on the ground. A mound…a mound of upturned earth—Kurt could just see it when the tall man leaned across to pat down a handful of dirt. Silent as a cat, he slinked nearer, keeping close to the low, uneven headstones—only to gasp out loud when he saw just what that mound was.

It was a grave—a fresh grave, without a marker. And beside it, in the grass, lay a threadbare plush bunny…the beloved plaything of a child.

“…oh God…” he breathed, crossing himself quickly as he sank to his knees at the foot of a nearby tombstone, his legs suddenly weak and his pulse thudding loudly in his ears. It was the murderer. It had to be. He had to get away from here, get back to the monastery, call the police! He’d have to sneak out on foot, though. He was too close to teleport, couldn’t risk the noise scaring the monster off…

With long, feline movements, Kurt slowly backed away, his eyes wide and fixed on the cloaked man. He’d nearly made it to the gate, when seemed a sudden burst of lightening struck a nearby tree, momentarily illuminating the churchyard with its blinding flash. Startled, both Kurt and the murderer looked up, their eyes meeting in the instant before the flash faded. The shock of recognition froze them both in place.

“Stefan…”

Kurt’s voice was a hesitant croak, barely audible, but it was enough. Stefan slowly rose from where he was crouching in the dark, the ragged bristles on his pale, unshaven face catching the moonlight. For a moment, his expression was lost in terror. Then, slowly, recognition crept into his wild eyes.

"Kurt!" he exclaimed, stepping forward and holding his hands out in grateful welcome. “Brother, is that you?"

Kurt did not respond, he just stood, still and straight, his glowing eyes fixed on the small mound of fresh earth next to the disheveled monk.

"What are you doing here?" Stefan continued after an awkward pause, his voice shaky.

Kurt raised his head, his yellow eyes direct and hard as they met Stefan's blood-shot black ones. Stefan recoiled slightly at the unnerving sight, pulling his arms protectively into his heavy cloak.

"How could you do it, Stefan," Kurt spoke at last, his voice rough and tight with emotion. “What could those children possibly have done?”

“What? What children?” Stefan seemed genuinely confused as he followed Kurt’s burning gaze to the mound of earth at his feet. Then he brightened, even smiling at his brother’s look of horror.

“Oh! Oh, no no. These creatures, the ones I put here in the dirt, these aren’t children. Not anymore. They look like children, yes. But that’s their trick—their trap. They look like children, but they’re empty inside. Empty, empty, empty and cold.”

Kurt shook his head, unable to comprehend that what he was hearing was real.

“Empty…” he repeated. “Oh no, oh-oh God, Stefan,” he said, his voice thick with dismay. “Don’t you see? They’re empty because you killed them. You killed them, Stefan! Those children are dead!”

“They were not children,” Stefan retorted, starting to get angry. “I thought you would understand. This is my work, Kurt. My purpose. This is why I’m here!”

Kurt closed his eyes, taking in several shaky breaths as he buried his face in his hands. He didn’t know what to say, how to handle this. It was obvious now that his brother wasn’t merely ill. He was completely mad. Mad, and dangerous.

Amanda had seen the signs. Years ago, before Stefan had left the circus, she’d tried to warn them. But Kurt hadn’t listened. Like Margali, he hadn’t wanted to believe the boy he had so looked up to in his youth could be capable of such wanton cruelty.

And now, it was too late. The terrible evidence of his brother’s fall was staring him in the face. Innocent children had been murdered because of his blindness. The clues had always been there, but Kurt had refused to see them.

Not anymore.

“Stefan,” he said coldly. “I want you to come here. Take my hand. We’re going back to the monastery.”

“No, no, no we can’t go back yet!” Stefan told him, shaking his head like a dog with a flea. “No, there are still demons out there. The demons I told you about, the fiends that draw their power from the dark places. Darkness is all around us, brother. And now you’ve come, you can assist me with my work. You can help me save the orphans.”

Kurt glared at his brother in furious incredulity. “Listen to me, Stefan. This work of yours—it isn’t good! You can’t save the orphans by killing them! What kind of sick logic is that?”

Not orphans!” Stefan insisted. “Not children! Demons, in the form of children. They suck out their fears so they can inhabit their bodies and consume their souls. Make them do bad things. I have to protect them from that! And you, brother, you must help me,” he said eagerly. “Together, we can kill them all!”

Kurt felt like crying. He wanted to curl up into himself and sob. The last of his childhood illusions was shattered. The brother he had loved was gone, may never even have existed. All that was left was this stranger who now stood in his brother’s place, a deranged murderer, lost in a world of delusion, leaving Kurt alone. Cast adrift in a cold, suspicious world, without an anchor, without a family…without hope.

Remember your oath, Kurt. You swore on your immortal soul…

I know… Kurt snapped back at the words that came, unbidden, to his mind. I’ll bring him home. I’ll call the police. I’ll get him help.

He is beyond human aid. The help he needs must come from you, Kurt. His brother in so much more than name. Only you can set him free…

Kurt shivered, shaken by his own thoughts. It was like there was another voice in his head, pushing him forward. Forcing him to reach out, to take Stefan by the hand. To pull him closer, enfold him in a fierce embrace, his face pressed against his shoulder.

“Hold on tight,” he warned, glancing up at the looming monastery as he initiated a teleport.

Stefan seemed to realize what Kurt had in mind an instant before the ’port took effect. Even as the teleport smoke plumed out, the larger man began to struggle. Calling on all his power, both physical and mystical, the deranged monk somehow forced his way out of Kurt’s grasp. With a wrenching BAMF, the pair reappeared on the grassy hill just outside the monastery walls, drained and panting. Stefan was the first to recover, shoving Kurt away and making a frantic dash for the path that led down to the village.

“No!” Kurt cried after him. His entire body ached from the strain of the aborted teleport, but he forced himself to jaunt again—this time reappearing crouched on his brother’s broad shoulders.

Stefan stumbled under his sudden, unexpected weight, forcing Kurt into a roll as he fell to his knees in the hard-packed dirt. As Kurt leapt to his feet to come at him again, Stefan reached into his cloak and pulled out a dagger. Kurt’s eyes widened. He knew that weapon. It was the same dagger Stefan had used years before, when he had forced him…forced him to swear…

Swear to me Kurt—if I ever turn evil…if I ever take an innocent life…that you will kill me…

NO!” Kurt screamed again, pressing his hands to his ears to keep the memories at bay. “Please, Stefan, put the knife away,” he begged. “Don’t make me fight you! Just let me take you inside. We’ll walk inside together. Give me your hand—“

“Get back!” Stefan exclaimed, swiping the air between them with his blade. “I trusted you, Kurt,” he said. “I confided my secrets to you. I thought you were pure, but now I understand your deception. You want to stop me, like all the others. Like that fool, Radulfus! You want to give me pills, make me sleep, give the demons their chance to take over. Possess the children and rule the world! Well, it won’t work. I won’t stop. Step aside or face my blade, Devil! I know who you are!”

Kurt’s eyes flashed at that, and his expression hardened. “Right,” he glared. “So you think I’m the devil, now? Why? Because I won’t let you loose down there, in the village? Because I won’t let you murder more innocent children! Give it up, Stefan! Drop the knife!”

Stefan tilted his head, his dark eyes wide and vacuous. For a moment it looked like he might be considering Kurt’s words. But then, he lunged, his blade glinting in the moonlight.

Acting fast, Kurt pushed Stefan’s arm aside and aimed a punch at his jaw. His fist connected with a solid smack that set the taller man reeling. Unwilling to give him time to recover, Kurt hopped onto his back, wrapping his tail around his broad chest while Stefan spun in place, flailing with his arms as he tried to bat Kurt away.

But Kurt would not let go. Instead, he squeezed tighter, using his legs and tail to press the air from the madman’s body, forcing him to gasp for breath. But his efforts weren’t enough. Stefan wasn’t weakening. And Kurt’s tail couldn’t keep up the pressure for much longer…

*******

More coming soon! Please review!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone! :D

:bamf

[Edited on 17/3/2007 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi!

I apologize for the brevity of this update, but it was all I could manage during lunch. Sorry for the suspense--hopefully I'll have time this weekend to write out a far more substantial update. Until then, thanks so much for reading, and I hope this next part's OK!


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Five point Three
By Rowena

Lightening flashed down from the clear, starry sky, enveloping two figures in its crackling energy. The demon and the sorcerer stood at the ready, defensive and fierce, and completely, eerily still. This was a battle of minds, of wills, of esoteric power brought to violent and furious life. The power channeled through them, but it manifested elsewhere.

In the dreams of a dying man…

In the nightmares of a screaming child…

In the infirmary, Brother Radulfus opened his eyes. Brother Gottfried was there to take his hand.

“Kurt,” the fading monk whispered, his eyes unfocused and his head swimming. “Kurt, hold on. I’m coming.”

“Oh no, Radulfus,” Gottfried said, forcing him still on the bed. “You’re not going anywhere, not with the concussion you’ve got. The doctor said there might be bleeding…”

“I have to go…I have to help…” Radulfus insisted, rising up as if in a trance. “Brother Stefan needs me.”

“If you step out that door, I won’t be held responsible!” Gottfried snapped, still struggling to hold the large man back. “Radulfus! Radulfus, listen to me!”

But Radulfus was past hearing. He was responding to a different call, imbued with a power far beyond his knowledge. He was an agent of good, an angel of death, and no one could get in his way.

But where Radulfus was responding to a call to aid, the villagers of Winzeldorf found themselves assaulted by summons of a different kind.

It began with a single child. Nighttime horrors invaded his dreams and he screamed like one possessed, his eyes wide but unseeing. Woken from their sleep, the neighbors flocked around the house, their fears rising as they shivered in the cold, crying out in alarm as flashes of lightening streaked impossibly across the cloudless sky.

It was a night of foreboding, of prophesy. Rumors ran thick through the streets, warning of killers, of demons. More children were screaming now, more parents at their wits’ end, unable to wake them. They were frightened, helpless and angry, all pretense of adult rationality rapidly fading as the night wore on.

And then, in the distance, the sound of sirens. By the river, the sky was glowing red. The orphanage was ablaze. The nuns of St. Hildegard’s flocked up the street, their small, sobbing charges in tow.

But it wasn’t the fire that had the nuns in tears. One of their children was missing. A little girl, Zofia, barely five years old. They’d tucked her into bed, but during the evacuation she and her favorite stuffed rabbit had been nowhere to be found.

A third child gone after a rash of murders, the orphanage engulfed in flames. The village children lost in nightmares, unable to wake up.

This was not a human’s doing, the villagers were certain. This was the work of the supernatural. Something unholy was afoot in this town. And the lightening was concentrating by the monastery…

To Be Continued…

:bamf

[Edited on 22/3/2007 by Rowena]
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Trigger »

All right, two updates! I've got to check back here more often! Amazing as usual Rowena, it's nice to see some fighting action.:thumbup
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Daycrawler »

Ok I just spent a whole sleepless night reading this because I couldn't go to sleep untill I finished it. My G is this story good. I will be sure to leave a better review tomorrow when I am more awake... (uhm... hehe I was supposed to be doing university work as well... opps. At least I have no classes tomorrow...)
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Daycrawler »

Ok, so as promised I will make a better review now. I absolutely loved your story, you have a way of making the reader feel like he is right there witnessing all that is happening. I really felt like I was part of the circus and that I had spent all that time with Kurt. You made me fall even more in love with him (:love) You are able to make your characters so believable that you can love, hate or be freaked out by their behavior, I know you have probably heard this like 10000 times, but darn it when Jardine came and started making all the changes to the circus and started insulting everyone I felt like jumping in the story and beating the crud out of him. Hahaha your Amanda as a teenager I felt like slapping some sense into her lol mostly out of the fact that most teenage girls get on my nerves and she was acting like a true teenage girl lol. And so many times did I felt like just going in an hugging poor little Kurt until he felt all better. I love all the stuff about him when he was a little boy, it would have been nice tough seeing when he realizes that he is different from most people, although you did kinda made it that way he realizes little by little. Oh this story is turning soo good. I really can't wait for you to continue it.
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi! Thank you very much!!! I'm so happy you're enjoying this!

I, unfortunately, didn't get as much time to write this weekend as I'd hoped, but I did manage to complete the fight scene! The next update will return to Strange and Belasco, and then comes the start of Scene Six--the dreaded Mob Scene. That should pretty much wrap this story up, save for a bit of an epilogue and some end notes. It won't be long now! :D


Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Five point Four
By Rowena

The villagers of Winzeldorf were on the march. Their torches—both electric and flame—glimmered through the darkness: a tight mass of fireflies swarming up the steep mountain path.

They were on the hunt, any lingering individual hesitations dampened by the swelling rush of fevered vengeance that swept over the group. The flashing lightening only spurred them on, illuminating their twisted features and lighting their fevered eyes. The fear in their hearts had curdled into fury, questions were unimportant, answers were no longer needed. The mob was the answer, their aggression the solution to the terrors that plagued their town. Shouting and chanting, they marched into the unknown, shielded by a fog of numbers, the illusion of invincibility…

*******

Outside the monastery walls, Kurt’s strength was beginning to fade. Feeling the pressure of Kurt’s tail around his ribcage was lessening, Stefan clutched his brother’s legs to his chest and roared, running at the high brick wall with the intent of ramming Kurt into its side. Kurt, however, was armed with an acrobat’s agility. Kicking free of Stefan’s grip, he flipped off his shoulders with seconds to spare, landing lightly in the grass while the madman’s inertia left him unable to stop.

Stefan sank to the ground, dazed by the impact, but Kurt hauled him to his feet, yanking the dagger from his hand and tossing it into the bushes that lined the path. Infuriated, Stefan dove after it, but Kurt tackled him to the ground, the pair of them rolling and rolling down the slope of the hill. Their teeth were clenched, the veins on their necks bulging with the effort of keeping the others’ hands at bay. They came to a stop at a dip in the ground, bruised and torn and bleeding but still battling for the upper hand. Neither seemed able to pin the other. Stefan was tall and strong, but Kurt was lithe and quick.

And then Stefan grabbed his brother by the neck with both hands and hauled him to his feet, spinning him around so he could lock him in a half nelson. Kurt’s eyes bulged as Stefan’s vice-like grip cut off his air supply, his arms and tail flailing in desperation.

Through the haze of asphyxiation, Kurt suddenly recalled a stage-combat move Chester had once taught him and he bent forward, spreading his legs for balance. His execution was clumsy, however, and he wrenched his neck painfully as he flipped the larger man over his back and fell with him to the ground. Stefan was forced to release his hold, but he was soon on his feet again, rushing at Kurt with a bloodcurdling yell. Gasping and disoriented and with no time to think, Kurt instinctively teleported out of the way. Stefan’s arms grasped nothing but smoke as he overbalanced and fell, sprawling, onto the rocky ground. Kurt jumped at once onto his chest, his knees pressed against the taller man’s arms. Stefan struggled like a wild thing, forcing Kurt to roll back as he sat up, but Kurt kicked him hard in the chest. Stefan’s head whiplashed back—

—straight into a half-buried rock, three times the size of an ostrich egg.

It was a dull sound, the impact of bone and rock, but it resonated in the darkness. The reverberation echoed in Kurt’s ears long after it had faded from the air, sending a cold shudder coursing down his spine, settling heavily in his stomach. Stefan’s eyes flew wide open, and his body spasmed under Kurt’s. The young mutant barely had time to register what had happened before a pair of thick, strong hands closed around his shoulders and pulled him away from his brother with a firmness that was also gentle.

Kurt’s breaths were coming short and quick, his mind numb and nauseous with horror, confusion, and adrenaline. It therefore took him several moments to fully register the image of the large figure kneeling by his brother's side. Eyes wide, he rose unsteadily to his feet, his hands trembling as he took a stumbling step forward.

“R-Radulfus…?”

The large monk turned his head, and Kurt was stunned to see his eyes were glowing white. Soundlessly, he pressed a finger to his lips, then turned back to Stefan’s unmoving form. The glowing monk fanned his hands across the young man's chest and pressed down once, a slow, steady pressure, and then again. And, suddenly, Kurt found himself knocked back, sprawled on the grass and engulfed in a harsh, blinding blackness that burned his eyes like smoke.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the stars. The air was clear and cold and terribly, terribly still.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Kurt looked around, aching and disoriented. And then he saw them.

Two bodies, Stefan and Radulfus, lying side by side…perpendicular, like a T. Seized with foreboding, Kurt crawled at once to their side, tears leaking from his glowing eyes as he felt for any sort of pulse, shaking them by the shoulders, first whispering, then shouting for them to get up, to look at him, to please say something, anything…

But no amount of pleading would bring the spark back to their eyes. Their voices had been silenced…forever.


To Be Continued…

:bamf
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Daycrawler »

Oh! I am soo happy to get more of the story, I was literally on the edge of my seat as I read this (yeah even if I did know how it was supposed to end) haha I was just telling one of my housemates about your story and how much I had enjoyed it. (Also how long it was hahahaha I copy pasted everything in word to see how long it was mein goth! 131 pages of glorious entertainment!) So keep it up! Because I am sure pleanty of other people are enjoying this story too. :peek
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Small Steps, Great Leaps (COMPLETE!!!)

Post by Rowena »

Hi! Here's a bit of an update I've been working on for a while. It provides some backstory about Strange and Margali--something of an interlude before the struggle between Strange and Belasco continues. I hope you like it, and I really am sorry for taking so long to write all this out! I'm doing my best, though. I really want to see this story finished!

Small Steps, Great Leaps
Part Seven, Scene Five point Five
By Rowena

Dr. Stephen Strange had known the sorceress Margali since she was very small. From a distance, he had watched her. Watched her as she learned, as she grew…watched her fall in love…

Ever stubborn, the young Margali had defied her father’s will and secretly engaged herself to one of the Gadje, an outsider from the nearby French village with no claim to Gypsy blood or heritage. When he’d discovered what she’d done, her father had become enraged. He hadn’t beaten her. He wasn’t that kind of man. His weapon was silence. Intense and unrelenting. He’d simply ignored her, his eyes passing through her as if she wasn’t even there. By firm, unspoken decree he made it clear that as long as she wore her lover’s ring, his daughter did not exist. She was dead to him, to the entire family, as insubstantial as a ghost.

Margali’s father had believed the pain of family rejection would sway her. Make her accept his terms and leave her outsider for good. But Margali’s will was stronger than even he knew, and his efforts to force her back only pushed her further away. If her family refused to accept her, she figured, she had no reason to stay. Her loyalty was to herself…and to the dark-eyed young German who had won her heart…

Strange had appeared to her at midnight. Margali had been packing. Her fiancé was waiting for her at the edge of the forest, waiting to take her away to Paris, and from there to his native Germany. They were to be married in the morning, as soon as the Paris courthouse opened.

“Don’t go,” he’d said.

Margali didn’t start. She barely even blinked. She just turned on her heel, fixing her strange intruder with an angry, piercing stare.

“You have the wrong trailer,” she snapped. “Get out.”

“Don’t go, Margali,” Strange repeated, taking a step forward. “Do not abandon your place on the Path.”

Margali rolled her violet eyes. “I know what I’m doing,” she stated flatly. “I’m not naïve, and I’m not a fool.”

“I know,” Strange told her. “Which is why I know you’ll hear me out. Rationally, forgoing the defensive petulance of youth.”

Margali raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Who are you?” she demanded. “You seem familiar, somehow.”

Strange twitched his lips. “You have a gift, Margali. Deep inside, you know this is true.” Reaching out, he smoothed a hand over her dark hair, twirling a curly lock between his fingers. “You have more power locked away in a single strand of your hair than the rest of your family can wield combined.”

Margali pulled her head away, turning to shove her remaining books into her battered leather bag.

“I don’t care,” she said, her eyes fixed on her work. “I never wanted it.”

“You want to be normal,” Strange said gently. “You want to know love. Human love. But Margali…” He stepped up close behind her, his lips nearly brushing her ear as he whispered, “you are not human. Not really.”

“What am I, then?” Margali snorted, forcing him to lean back as she slung the bag over her shoulder.

“A prodigy,” Strange responded, the sudden intensity of his black eyes startling her into stillness. “Come with me, Margali. I can offer you so much more than this mundane human life you seek. You have the potential to achieve true greatness, to wield a power that rivals my own. Don’t let it go to waste. Allow me to be your guide and I promise you…”

“You promise me what?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but a trace of defiance still remained.

“Everything,” Strange said. And this time, he did smile.

Margali stared at him for a long time, oddly entranced by this strange man. By those eyes, so ancient and deep, gleaming with secrets yet, somehow, completely open. He was telling her the truth, his offer was genuine. She had no doubt now that she was in the presence of a powerful sorcerer…perhaps even a Sorcerer Supreme. And yet…

Margali blinked, shattering the tension of the moment with a deep, shaky breath.

“I appreciate the offer,” she told him at last. “I really do. But…” she shook her head, raising her chin to look him directly in the eye. “I don’t want everything. I have Darick Szardos. He is all I need.”

Strange clenched his jaw, his expression darkening. “This is your final decision.”

“It is my only decision,” Margali stated firmly. “I made it long ago…when I first realized how much he loves me. He truly loves me.”

“And you?” Strange asked. “Do you love him?”

Margali considered for a long moment, looking deep within herself. When she finally answered, there was a touch of wonder in her voice. “I do. Completely.”

“Hm.” Strange pursed his lips, his dark eyes hard. “I cannot promise you will be happy,” he said. “Your time together will be intense, but fleeting. Are you still willing to make this choice?”

“I am,” Margali said. “I know I can live without Darick. I know he could make a life without me. But we would always be less than what we could be. What we should be.” She straightened. “The future is never certain. As circumstances shift, so do predictions. Even the predictions of a sorcerer." She shot him a knowing look. "I believe in Darick. I trust him.”

“Enough to sacrifice your core?” he asked her. “To deny who you truly are?”

“I know who I am,” Margali retorted coldly. “I don’t need ancient magicks and dusty runes to define me.”

“And what of your children?” Strange said, startling her.

“Children?”

“They will be of your blood, Margali,” he told her, a warning clear in his voice. “If they should manifest, the power they would wield could shake the very balance of the universe. Would you leave them untrained, Margali? Ignorant of their potential? Deny them their place on the Winding Way?”

“You’re just trying to shake me,” she said. “Scare me into changing my mind, into choosing you over him. Well, it’s not going to happen. Your hypothetical musings don’t frighten me. So…so just get out of my way!”

Margali pushed past Strange to the door, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled the latch. Strange watched her with a sort of sadness, his solemn eyes welling with dark reflections of the future she had just caused to manifest…of the children she would one day rear…

“One last thing, Margali,” he said as she finally managed to thrust open the door. She paused, her back to him.

“My name,” he said. “In case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

With that, she was gone, racing off into the night as though a thousand ghosts were grasping for her heels.

“Stubborn child,” Strange spoke softly, as he slowly turned away. “I only hope your choice has not condemned us all…”

To Be Continued…
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei
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