#zombocomme

Copia grabbed Milagro by the arm, halting her from walking away from him again, the beast in him snapping at the bars of his heart cage, defenses bolstering.

“Now just a minute!” He spat, “Since yesterday you have been acting like, like a petulant child! Bratting around and being contrary! I don't know if you are pissed with me or something that happened ‘back home’, but I certainly don't deserve to be-”

*Ignored, he meant to say*

“Treated like a pretty little prize to be won and not earned?! Don't bother!” Milagro interrupted, snapping her arm down, breaking Copia's hold, "It's not like I get to be anything with you, anyway! And of everyone's whispering and watching, the least I can get is any attention in public from you, it's like I'm not even somone you care to consider to locking in a trophy case!"

*(Ah yes... all those times she had found him, gazing in expressions from hypnotized to hatred, at the Golden Saxaphone displayed in the clergy offices, clutching his grucifix like a man both bewitched and possessed by a desire beyond what she could comprehend... The Cardinal had been avoiding her, obsessing with his career doing so, carrying his duty like a chain, an inward despisement that clung to him like the clergical collar at his throat.)*

Copia, momentarily stunned by the fight in Milagro's words, didn't reach for her again, instead let her walk away, which somehow stung even more. Like the loss of touch had pulled out something from his hurt and guilt, and left it vulnerable and open... something he didn't like...

Milagro's silhouette glided towards the corner of the cabin, where she yanked off her shirt and started undressing while maintaining eye contact, “Yeah, you're right!” She laughed dryly, “I don't deserve that!”

*There was a beat of tension between them. But taking the cue as them about to go to bed, cross with one another again, Copia followed her lead, a reluctant dancer into the fray of an argument he knew would not end tonight, and would carry once more into the next day of their oh so precious, oh so limited time alone together on this vacation*

Copia sputtered and grumbled, pulling at his own shirt, fumbling over the buttons of his more sporty tailored cassock. Then in his frustration yanked the clergyman's collar from his neck and cast it aside like he was tossing a gauntlet into the fight, all the while his eyes not leaving Milagro's form, following the curves and lines that he lusted for, despite the growing anger he was feeling.

As if running hot in his temper was also gushing blood into his core, the heat intensifying, something preying excited itself at the hum of malcontent... and it licked its lips in anticipation, urging, for more, more...

“You are so damn difficult when you don't have to be!” Copia at last said, rather snidely, “I deserve some respect about this! If it weren't for my dedications, I wouldn't have got you your job! I take care of you, I clothe and feed you, spoil you with the pretty things you want and bring you out here to have a little vacation, with me all to yourself, and this is the thanking I get?! Speaking to me like I'm some piece of shit boyfriend who doesn't care like the other bastards you were dating back home?!”

The moment he said those thing he knew he fucked up. The words that had flown so carelessly from his painted mouth, sounded Exactly like his mother's...

Milagro slapped the wardrobe closed, naked and every inch her petite stature managing to still tower over him with her words, “Jesus you're such a prick! YOU didn’t bring me here for a romantic getaway for ME, you brought me here to your fuck ass cabin in these weired as fuck woods, for YOU!”

“I brought you here so we could spend time together, to bond and focus on us!”

“No, you are literally making this whole thing about YOU! How I owe you, how I need you, how you provide basic necessities as if it were an added gratuity to your magnanimous courtesy, that's not caring for me, that's buying me- and I'm not for fucking sale!”

“Satanas, you are taking this so way out of context-line!”

“Face it Cardi, you didn't bring me here for my benefit. You brought me here for yours, so you can have ME all to YOURSELF, without Imperator, ghouls, and the Siblings of Sin prying into your business. You barely even acknowledge me walking in the halls when it's even just you and me at the opposite ends, hell, you even avoid me unless you want to drag me into a closet to get slutty for some high fevered fuck! Like I don't have a life, and my own feelings, like you're hiding me, from yours!”

“Im not avoiding you, because there's nothing I'm avoiding you to shame, er- to be ashamed of!” Copia cried out exasperatedly, pulling his pants down and stepping out of them, throwing himself onto the bed corner removing the rest of his clothes angrily, “What, you think you know everything going on with me and my life, I'm balancing on knives and walking on shell-eggs because I have urgent and important things that I can't have you involved in for your own good!”

“Oh please!” Milagro said, throwing up her hands as she knelt down and threw open her suitcase, tossing clothes as she dug for what she wanted, turning her back to Copia, “You do what you do to get your rocks off, and leave me, like I'm some sordid affair-”

“You are not an affair!” Copia stamped, suddenly at Milagro's side, digging with her into the suitcase, elbows deep into autopsying the chaos contained inside, and immediately locating her pale white nightgown, holding it out to her, which she promptly attempted to snatch up.

“Stubbornly enough, I actually do care," Copia said, gloved hand fisted into the silk, like they were both in a tug of war, and yet still side by side "And I've never treated you like you were some secret slut!”

“I never said that-” Milagro almost yelled. But she halted her rage and covered her face in her free hand a moment, trying to compose herself in deep breaths between her tense fingers.

Copia, still running hot, felt the urge to hold the line, “-and being a slut is not a thing to be shamed of around here- The Ministry even welcomes it- so if you're angry at me over feeling shame for your actions, that's not my wrongdoing- that's yours- you hold guilt in you and that has nothing to do with how I treat you, how I care, how I brought you here to try and mend US.”

“You aren't doing all this because you care, you're doing all this because you are hiding something. You always have been, and you've been lying to me somehow-”

The Cardinal's mouth opened and shut. No silver toungued song could backtrack what had been said and done. His hand slacked.

Milagro stood as she took the silk clothing from Copia's gloved hands, at once disliking the way they looked compared to her own bare fingers.

It was only then she noticed how strange it all was. Crouched down, Copia really was wearing nothing but his socks and gloves. And somehow, despite his tall stature and dancer's muscles proud beneath, a thickness half cocked hanging below his waist, and his eyes, gleaming with imposition and determined adversary, he somehow looked less like the glowering steeple of the satanic, and instead seemed so defeated....so, small... a something that seemed buried as if forgotten, and to the pious, mattered not a thing more...

While Milagro stood there beside him, naked as she came into this world… his world… a world she had slowly been feeling the weight of ‘otherness' pressing down on her, and how despite the claims of welcome and the promise of fulfillment as a Sister of Sin in the Ministry, having discarded her old life, at least probationarily, she felt deeply the sense that she did not belong…

That She was a stranger here, walking the gilded halls, finding nothing but mystery after mystery, secrets unexplained, with powerful people and hidden places she didn't trust, and the person she had put her faith in, wasn't so un-entrenched with them, as she had been led to believe*

Milagro stared down at the man who had somehow taken so much from her without even knowing, and spoke her truth,

“You didn’t bring me to the valley to take care of me- and you brought me to this cabin to fuck in peace. And in a couple days you'll fuck off like you always do and act like I'm just a person in the room to be polite to… you won't let me in. And I think you know that. And I think you have been avoiding allot of things, or some big thing, and I'm your outlet, I'm your distraction. So why are you even bothering to be mad at me, for being mad at you for it, at all?”

The room was still. Copia’s mouth hung open like a dead fish, and he blinked up at her in shock.

Now, Milagro wouldn't look at him. She put on the soft nightgown without even raising her head. The tears she was trying to hide from him, forcing themselves out of her eyes and down her cheeks, were like daggers to The Cardinal's darkened heart. A mark of innocence so sincere it was painful. And he felt like a coward...

*Copia hated to see Milagro cry. He hated himself for being the reason she was crying, thinking and saying all these things…. Realizing that there was a ring of truth to her words… had he really been so blind? Had she really been suffering so much and so quietly while he had been looking the other way?*

Copia watched her as she quietly dressed. Her skin as soft and pale as the silk against it. Blonde hair shimmering, casting a halo of glowing sadness about her. The heat in him had cooled, leaving him feeling hollow, and empty.

Milagro crossed to the back cabin door, the gown floating around her legs, and stood in the open doorway facing the trees beyond, arms crossed, holding herself together as if she too, were cold. The night was too warm to goose pimple her skin and yet she shivered. She was vulnerable and beautiful, and in pain, and it was his own damn fault. The Cardinal knew it. And he knew she was also, right…*

Copia sighed heavily and quietly straightened out the mess of clothes in the suitcase, gloved hands deftly moving to fold, roll, and neatly tuck everything back in to place, with a gaping hole in the lineup of clothes where the Nightgown should be. Staring at it, eyes downcast he saw the irony of the situation. And he knew the chasm that had grown between them had come from a place he had projected from himself.

*He had to tell her. He had to come clean.*

She deserved the truth. She deserved what she had been asking for these many months. She deserved the better life he had promised her, all that time ago, before bringing her to the valley to see if she would even want to stay. She deserved to know what this place actually was, and what He really was… even if the danger was in the knowing, she deserved to know the truth*

Long minutes passed, and the moon had moved enough to change the direction of the streaming light through the door. Milagro was now leaning sideways in the frame, halfway down a joint she had kept handy on the nearby coat rack shelf. A nightly ritual before bed.

*Copia had arranged this old forgotten cabin to be renovated for this excursion- to have handy amenities and furniture for comfort and ease, to facilitate the mood to relax and kick-back, where he would have been at the door with her, romantically staring at the moon, sharing some Mary, before pulling her with him into the sheets, to share in passion and lovemaking... but despite the nesting he had done in anticipation of cozying up to his pretty bird, a fledgling to his world, she already had a foot out of the nest, and he knew, it was only a matter of time before she flew the coop, and like the others in his past, she would never, ever, come back...*

‘You can't love a free thing’ Copia muttered, quoting a movie he used to watch when he was younger and not so busy… not so distracted…

The words held a truth for him, having himself been kept at an arms length by his own family. In turn, he never fully embraced those around him. He cared, just not enough- not the way he should. He wasn't the only one in this current relationship with aspirations, dreams, desires, and fears. He knew that. And willfully he had been avoiding the responsibility of acknowledging it, and accepting it… of nurturing those thing, by taking Milagro under his wing*

*Hence the sudden passionate takings and love bombing of his affections… he could see it. The way he buried his pain with his vices. The way he would suddenly swoop in and take his woman in every position in every desperate corner of the Ministry, and never to the privileged comforts his own bed. He could see the way he had held his aloofness and work above her and his feelings for her. And he knew she cared. But what really scared him, was that he didn't actually know for himself, if she cared for him… if she loved him back… if she thought him worth staying for…*

“Millie-” Copia began, his shoulders drooped and his eyes still downcast, talking at the wall, “I… I haven't been totally honest with you-”

Milagro sighed and rolled her eyes, still looking out of the doorway to the black woods where the tall trees stood like church collumns in the night.

"And here I thought we agreed not to lie to one another." Milagro whispered...

*Like a slap in the face...*

Copia felt the disdain of the sting, but took a steadying breath. The little woman's fiery attitude sometimes came out when she knew she was right about something, but he held his tongue about it. What he was going to say was more important… and was earned it's due shaming... a pennance he must humbly accept...

“I did bring you here under some false pretenses... I, I brought you here, for you and Jim… but you are right, I did it mostly, for me…”

*because-...*?

But Copia couldn't bring himself to continue. The words of explanation died in his throat as his own thoughts about what he had done and what he wanted to do, choked him up.

After a quiet beat Milagro spoke softly,

“I know… And I know the Real Reason, why…”

Copia's eyes shot wide and he froze, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi truck about to slam him into oblivion.

“Oh?” He said, trying to quell the shakiness in his voice, his throat dry.

He was caught. And he wasn't sure how deeply into the shit he was in…

“Yeah… I mean, its kinda obvious isn't it?” Milagro said, dragging out the last of her joint before tossing it out. She still didn't face him. Open hands now behind her back, she propped against the doorframe and wistfully kept her gaze occupied on nothing much at all.

But Copia's gaze stayed trained on her…

The way her jaw angled to curve along her pretty neck, the tops of her breasts exposed and then hidden by a little ribbon of lace swen into the neckline of the silken nightgown like an ethereal shroud, moving in a whisper as the summer breeze outside filtered in. The moonlight cast against her, making Milagro look both ghostly and angelic. And The Cardinal felt the weakening in his knees.

Copia knew she was his weakness. He was even more afraid, now, more than ever, to face her and the truth head on.

He kept his movements unhurried and neutral, the way a traumatized person does when sensing danger- instead of staying mostly naked for bed, he set about dressing himself once more, putting on a comfier set cassock robes, he often wore when he knew he would.not be able to sleep, donning the one with a hole in the front pocket that he always said was lucky for him. He needed all the luck he could get, and he needed the bravery of his cubby, for he felt both miserably perceived, and very small…

"Obvious?" The Cardinal hushed back.

“Yeah-” Milagro said. Her face turned to him now, and he felt her focus hone in. He looked away.

He busied himself to ease the tension.

Milagro knew it, knew that he felt perceived, that he was being avoidant because she knew it was so, and he knew that also. Still, she kept her eyes on him as he moved to re-dress himself, as if this whole mess of a night hadn't just rocked them both, perhaps all the way off the boat, in a way. Like he wasn't making himself small on purpose, painting himself into the background, being ‘normal’, pretending things were fine when they weren't. In a way she hated him for that too...

*Milagro felt guilty for that. But despite recognizing the signs of his unhealthy coping of some unknown traumas, she knew she needed to confront him about it, because it was hurting her too… though a little bit she felt satisfaction that the confrontation was punishing him- he kinda deserved it- for what he had put her through to now... for what she had given up to leave an old life behind and try starting a new one where she was so isolated in a sea of unfamiliar faces, with no bearings, no countryman, no family, and no other friends…*

“What do you want from me?” Copia said, fists clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure, jaw tightened and eyes shut tight… voices from all his life echoed in the whooshing pulse at his ears, despising whispers slithering along his veins, all too knowing...

*The pathway to hell is paved with good intentions*

“I… I want you to be honest with me,” Milagro said, a coldness in her voice that wasn't there before…

“Honest?” The Cardinal chuckled grimly, “My dear, there is no thing I can truly hide from you. Am I not allowed to keep some things private?”

“Am I not allowed to know the reality of the situation?”

“Reality is what you make of it,” Copia snapped back, an edge to his voice that made Milagro's skin grow cold and her hands shake.

“Then be real with me” she coaxed, “I know you want to be.”

"Careful, cara mia, what you wish is what you get. What if the knowing, breaks you, leads you astray, what if the knowledge you seek is a poisoning for your heart? What if these are just words I give you, what if what you want, is much much worse, than you thought?”

“Well…” Milagro asked, “what, if?...”

More than anything, she deserved to hear the truth that he had been hiding behind his cassock robes.

She deserved the choice.

She deserved to have the cards on the table for her to decide fairly, consciously, if she should stay, if his home, should be hers too…

*The way, soft under foot and gentle sloped,*

…In these marble halls and green filled gardens,

*kept by Death and all of his friends*

where the facade of a people pleasing professional hid behind his dark makeup and charming smiles,

*A road without sharp turns, paved with ‘good intentions’, and missed opportunities*

A dark Cardinal with a dark secret

*without milestones or sign posts,*

Thrust into a dance macabre, without the promise of being able to turn back

*the way unbarred to those who belonged there, the doors- open, glowing warm by the fires within,

It was time to call him out.

*promising sanctuary from the cold*

It was time to know the truth.

*as above, so below…*

“I know you care about me,” Milagro paused, “but there's something else, isn't there, we both know it… you want more… you should at least have the decency to ask me for it.” She frowned, stepping back into the room from the doorway, the light behind her making her front faced form dim in the shadows.

“So what's it going to be Cardi…”

Copia methodically and carefully closed the suitcase and wardrobe, a neat click as the latches locked into place like the final snap of an electric chair's restraints…

“What do you want me to Do, Millie.” He asked, moving to the window she had first been at, gloved fingers gently matching the splay of her handprints there, gazing out like she and done, out to that world beyond the glass he was looking through, where he too felt like a total stranger.

“I want the truth… I want you… all of you. For what you are-”

*go on, say it* his heart pleaded, wanting the pain to be over already.

Unable to do it himself, he needed her to say it, to permit him to reveal the secret he had been keeping from her for so long…

*He depended on her too much, it’s why he was scared. He knew what he was capable of. He knew his own demons were hot on his heels about the deeper reason he had invited her to the valley to see if she wanted to stay*

“I told you,” she sighed,

*… to give up her old life for this one… because he needed her. She was a sustenance in his soul that he couldn't imagine living a life without… and the appetite he had acquired for her, was burning him from the inside out…*

Milagro's tone relented, “I know why you haven't been honest with me. I know why you are afraid. The way you act, how you disappear, how you need me, but can't allow yourself to Have me truly-”

Copia felt his heart breaking, and in its place the monstrous head of his fears was rearing up to consume them whole.

“So then you know-” Copia relented, finally giving in, watching his reflection in the glass grow murky as the clouds drifted before the moonlight, his eyes glowing red, his reflection daring, staring back at him. Like it wasn't his. Like it was smirking, while he was afraid.

“Yes. So why hide it anymore?” Milagro said gently. Almost tenderly. She moved from the dim light of the doorway, stepping into the dark shadows, her form a dim glow from where she had been before, and yet, still so present, and graceful, a ghost of what could still be, but wasn't.

“I want you to be Real with me,” she pleaded, a gentle hand circling around Copias waist, an eerie breath of cold air creeping into the warm room, contrasting the warmth of her body.

*Something was off. Something wasn't right. Something was off from one end of the room to the other. One could imagine a frost creeping in like a breath of ice, narrowing the color and warmth of thw room to two heartbeats. One red, bright, and beating. The other, dark, heavy, and barely alive*

The sensation, suffocating, but about the truth, the whole of it, both people here were about to prove themselves, wonderously, wildly, wrong…*

“So please,” Milagro whispered, turning Copia from the window to face her. But instead of looking into his face, his facade, to beg this of him, she was already at his breast, her head tucked under and against him, like a small creature seeking comfort in his closeness.

He swallowed dry, his own arms embracing her tightly. A gloved hand drifted, stroking through her hair at her head, before fisting tightly into the silken blonde, like every ounce of feeling portrayed in his every action, his fierce embrace, everything he could be, but wasn't.

“Please what?” He murmured, pressing his lips to her hair as he held her, his whole body against hers, begging to be one.

“Please. Just, show me…” she faltered, soft voice choking back hot tears that stung her face and pierced his heart,

“Please, just do it…”

Copia blinked.

*This was his invitation… this was it. That moment he both longed for and dreaded.*

“You… you really want me to?” He whispered, feeling his heart race and his breath quicken, his body suddenly teaming as the monster in him was feeling its collar being removed…

“Yes.” Milagro said, nuzzling deeper into his chest, her arms tightening around his body as if he might suddenly disappear, “I want you to…”

*the restraint, was gone. And like an animal suddenly realizing the cage doors were open, that they were free, Copia saw his opportunity. And Took it.*

At her words The Cardinal's eyes rolled back and closed, as if in relief, as if in, pleasure…

In the embrace she kept, Copia suddenly removed his gloves behind her back and his shapely hands found her throat, his thumbs lining along her pulse line, tipping her head back with his other hand.

His heart was pounding, his passion earnest and more desperate than ever before, an aggressive snarl in his words awakened, as she let him, submitted to him, eyes closed and gasping, panting, he kissed her neck like she was the last meal he would ever have-

“Fuck, I've been waiting to hear you say this.”

He groaned, feeling a throbbing hardness ache below his waist. He had her tight against him like she was his and he would never let her go,

“I need you, I want you," he murmured panting heavily,

"I can't live, not without you”*

is what Milagro thought he said. But in reality, the Dark Cardinal had spoken his truth, so impending, so vile, so sincere,

“... I can't *starve*, I'll not live without you.”

And suddenly Milagro's eyes exploded open, letting out a cry in something between pleasure, and *pain*.

Copia was two fangs deep into her neck, blood drooling from his messy desperate latch, covering the white of Milagro's gown, staining the pretty lace, a first time blooding, while she felt him taking from her. More and more, like it wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, the press of his lips and the heat, wet and gripping, sliding down The Cardinal's throat. His little bird was caught, and the intensity drowned out any anguish. The venom roiled in Milagro's veins and she felt it burn with something like euphoric ecstasy, like a morphine drug suffocating her one heartbeat at a time, the burn...the burn... and she felt her body slip from herself, and into a cloud of release, slack and docile, soft sounds bleating while the growling gulps kept taking and Taking...

The heightened sensations overwhelming. The ultimate expression of the two lovers, biting into the fruit, of good and evil.

Never to un-know, what had happened here tonight.

It was like the clash of storms where lovers meet, the chasm between them slamming closed as they collided with one another where they were, As they were. But as Copia lowered his precious obsession to the floor, like a virgin to his bed, covering her and lost in the throws of the great expression of his deepest desires, he realized something…though the sweet iron flavor against his toungue was unlike any he had encountered before,

Milagro also tasted- strange…

Not how he expected from her scent, not after that first clinging bite...

It wasn't fear, he liked the tang of that- the little fear and little pain like notes tracing through the melody of a vino sanguine, no… this was something else… something indeed, wrong.

The Cardinal lifted his head from the smeared wound he'd been suckling from, thinking to gaze down at her and see the wonderment of her submission to him, that he thought he would see... but that was not what he was seeing below him at all.

Like an anti coagulant, His venom had circulated from the wound, changing the blood, and while it should have, that wound was not closing. It was bleeding out. And fast!

The Cardinal found beneath him the sight of Milagro looking up at him, mouth agape and wide eyed, betrayed, like he was an Iscarriot, and she, a lamb he was in the midst of him committing unto her as a sacraficial slaughter.

“No, no no no!” Copia yelled, scooping her up into his arms, his mouth pressing against the hemorrhaging at her neck, venom dripping from his toungue, lapping and pressing, trying to seal the wound.

*He never should have done it. He never should have gotten carried away! He knew better than to drain from a neck hole, because getting lost in the moment could mean draining someone to death- and while there were anecdotes in the tomes about accidents stemming from moments like this, he was witnessing it in real time, he was watching her, helplessly, as in his arms she was dying!*

*A living nightmare from a time too long ago he had forgotten to remember, when blood and bone had been taken from him, flashes of a life so full of worries and promises, cruelly ripped from his heart, oh the memories, awakened at the sight of *her* like this, screaming from his insides the words "What have I done, what have I done!" , voices of the dust, the lives so carelessly he had taken for granted, and lost, the ruin of him in a past lifetime*

"Do it" she had said...

“Millie, Millie look at me!” Copia screamed, eyes bulging in panic as Milagro's were fast fluttering closed, glazing over as she kept bleeding out all over the floor, her gown, Copia's red cassock, and pouring over his bare hands; all were covered in blood. It was a horror to behold. And as something between them pulsated like a poison of NIMH, Copia realized in this moment, the great irony of misunderstanding…

“Do it…. *Tell me you love me*”

His thoughts raced, for the bite had already begun its work, despite her fading body, their connection was immediate. Those thoughts raced in her in that moment as he had taken her into his arms.

That's what she had been trying to say. But not what he had been hearing!

The dramatic irony being, that she had meant one thing, while he had understood another.

He thought she knew what he was, and that she was asking for him to… to…-

“Amore look at me, wake up!” He said, trying to shake her, her eyes fluttering weakly. Wordless lips moved and the sound of the blood was all he heard pounding in his ears.

Copia whimpered as he held Milagro in his arms, pressing his lips to her neck, his hands to her throat, trying to stem the bleeding, anything, anything!

“I love you please, I love you… don't leave me… don't leave me!…”

Three things flashed through his mind then;

One, he had to get her to safety.

Two, he had to get her there fast.

And Three, if she died, if he let her die, then he, and all he loved, even her, would be Damned…

In that instant of his realization, he was up and running with her through the black woods back to the Ministry, with inhuman haste. He crashed through the branches and cobwebs of the old trail, feet flying fast along the miles that trailed to the Emeritus Estate, where there was only one person he knew that could maybe, maybe, save her…

“MOTHER!!!”

Copia screamed as he slammed through the side doors with the Lady Milagro limp in his arms.

“What?! What happened, what happened!” Voices said, urgently, overlapping, and jumbled in Milagro's ears, echoing in the gilded corridors in the dead night. The moon casting spidery shaddows through the decals of stained glass panes- windows closing in by shaddowed branches like hands in the sky, trapping the chaos and voices, like the shrieks of helpless flies caught in a web, as the harbinger of death and doom closed in on crawling long legs...

Milagro's world was quickly fading into darkness, her slackened body seeming to want to float away as if never at all…

The world was spinning and turning black all over, and all the while she was hearing Copia wailing in the halls, that this was all his fault, all his fault, somone, somone help, mother, mother...

*The thing Copia had been keeping so secret, Milagro now realized, had not only been how he felt, but what he was…*

“On the table, NOW!” Imperator's voice commanded. Hands seemed to grasp and rip, clothing red with blood and an ichor poured from within as something else was peeling away from her clammy skin, de-gloving itself from her somehow in her swirling mind, Milagro felt as if she were being flayed, wet flesh exposed to reveal agonizing pain- it was a moment before she realized the screaming was comming from her own throat. Bright lights dimming, Milagro's numbing lips trembled, as a hot fiery sensation suddenly seemed to zip up her spine, a jolt of what felt like electricity burning her chest, gripping her like a ragdoll to shake…

She now knew why the Ministry was so strict, so secluded, so shut away from the world, that every secret and sound was burried in mystique and cloaked in the shaddows,

And perhaps why Copia, and Jim, really wanted her to stay… why so badly they wanted her for themselves, why their affections seemed so irascable and pained in desperate longings that lured her in with such desire and creeping flush, like coaxing the red ribbon of horrific fever from the throat of the sick and sinners alike, condeming the quick and the dead...

*The Emeritus Estate was no ordinary Ministry... Father Jim Defroque wasn't just the wayward son of a preacher man. Sister Imperator was not merely a discipled spinster supporting the local Satanic Papacy and her son, the Esteemed Cardinal Copia, was no ordinary man... and Milagro was no ordinary woman to him. She'd become his, a coveted thing, a sacrifice in the silence, a lamb lead so easily into the trap as a fool to the feast... she had gone so willingly, so blindly, bewitched, and now, marked for her loss of innocence, beguiled into unwitting temptation, and loosing this fight for her very soul... for Cardinal Copia was, indeed, had always ever been.... a devistatingly beautiful child of the night, fallen from grace, deliciously wicked, Vampire….*

“You need to calm yourself!” Teddy snapped, canines bared as his own temper, known to be long fused and short trimmed, flared dangerously, “Copia has been where he's supposed to be, away from here, where he can protect us and get help-”

“Liar, I smell you like wallow-water on a hog, you don't even believe what you're sayin', ya think you're better than everyone, like your high horse shit don't stink!” Jim glowered, sweeping papers off of Lucius’ desk as he went, knocking Teddy's hold on him away, balling fists shoved into his pockets as the Preacher Man sought the dark comfort of the corner of the room, snatching the brandy bottle and swinging it straight muttering, “Go fuck yourself”.

Teddy glared, feeling the red in his face grow livid, and his beast tearing at the bars of it’s cage within.

But Jim was right. Teddy felt like Copia had been far too absent from Milagro's life and care during her time with child, and so soon after their birth as well...

*The twins knew their own father as the red flash in the door to coo and dote on their cherubic faces, and to quickly leave them, fussing and crying at the sudden loss and absence that their own blood knew to be kin. And watching their distressed wailing and constant upset, felt like torture! No, Teddy didnt want Copia here, or just away... he wanted him gone... 

*Then again, Teddy Wolfe felt only he was good enough to have earned the right to be by Milagro and her children's side, for to his eyes, everyone but him, had taken his family for granted. He had bonded to them so fiercely, a possessive snarl to any percieved slight was never far, as was the feral roaring in his ears, and he could not close himself from it. As if he were fighting the beast within, which, for the damage he could cause, very well could spell out a fate, dark and terrible, and full of blood and carnage to rival a lycan berserker. Teddy, was also, dangerous... and he knew it... and he hated himself for it. And that hate, made him lash out at everyone like a baited fighting animal, so for now he had to admit, even he couldn't be counted on to keep 'his woman' and 'his cubs' safe. The man' mind was also going, like a mad dog...*

*And now when the woman they all loved needed their strengths the most, it seemed, one by one, every man for himself was dropping out of the race like flies- no one was themselves. No one was all there, everyone was broken in ways darkened unto themselves, and it felt like Milagro was the one most affected- too crazy to be left with her own children, possessed by something abysmal, demented, and possessive beyond any one's ability to pull her back from…*

Lucius continued his phone call with Cardinal Copia, but had seemed to be doing more than that at once, feeling the auras of those around him constant and acrid. Though Grey walking, he was still a deamon. There was an energy feeding him from the combined strife and aggression of these men, and Lucius was tasting every one of them- like swallowing a meal of sustenance that was as disgusting as it was poisoned. And it too was forming changes in him that he could barely control, so subtle was it, that he knew like a frog in a pot, would eventually doom him to a fate in the abyss…

*The road to hell is gentle on the slope, without milestones or signposts*

Glancing at Jim in the corner, stewing hotly half finished down the bottle, Lucius saw the Preacher Man's eyes and hands blackened like a blix from hell. Then his gaze flit over to Teddy who was half seated on the desk, arms crossed and rubbing a hand at his temple, hackles raised and constantly, painfully, shifting between human and wolf's forms...

the subtleties of their maladies were becoming more and more apparent, and the corruption was spreading...

*Like a cancer, crawling amongst them, infecting, corrupting, cell by cell, like a slow dismemberment of self into something…. Monsterous… like a vision of grotesque malformation, wailing and gnashing it's teeth…*

it was clear to the Oracle Deamon how deeply the whole matter was affecting them all, and Lucius knew, that indeed, all of it, was a bad sign…

*

Copia hung up the receiver and buried his hands in his face. The dismal room held coldness and stale air, and the smell of rotted books and bone dust followed wherever he went- settling here on his shoulders, where he stooped over a makeshift table, while tears seeped through his gloves.

The night beyond the window held no hope of dreams and wonder, no music or stars. It was simply dark.  And only the flicker of thin pale lamplight from the street beyond, veiled through the forgotten crypt, one place of the few sanctuaries afforded to The Clergy and their Vampiric members. The safe house was old and delayed, like everything inside it, and The Cardinal could feel the emptiness that seemed to fill the air, heavy and malcontent...

“I should never have left…” he whispered. Deep down, what Copia meant was *I should never have gone back*.

A pale hand, shapely and full of youth, slid over Copias left shoulder, a voice smooth and quiet spoke, “We all agreed, it would be safer for you to be here, than there-”

“I know, that's what I said!” Copia gasped, “but I can't protect them from across the world, hiding in some mausoleum like a plague rat in the sewer-”

“This is no sewer, and you are no rat,” The voice continued, a tinge of earnestness behind it, “Believe me. I have seen the world of rats and ‘less-than’ creatures,” the hand was joined by the other, both giving a squeeze at each of Copia's shoulders, “and while you may at times be a rat bastard-”

Copia winced.

“- you are not, a monster, not like what Ive seen.”

“But this, this sickness, it grips me like some clawed thing in the dark, and I can't escape it, no matter where I run.”

“Running in retreat is better than standing by and becoming something you are not-”

Copia closed his sore eyes, watching himself in his mind...

*Remebering the way he pretended to have been fine, indifferent even, all while those at home had suffered from his absence. Hiding in In the limelight, he had found his darkest shame...*

*He had made a mess of things, mistreating Jim as his companion, taking for granted his love and abilities with the dead. The Cardinal had even gone so far as to kill a waitress by blood draining, his appetite known to be voracious, was now unquenchable, and he reacted to it like a fiend, with no regard or remorse in the moment, and expected Jim to quite literally, clean up the mess. Jim had managed to bring the woman back, but he had his own blood hunger to satisfy, and The Cardinal had greedily taken the food from Jim's mouth, having stolen the intended shared feeder from him. And Copia kept on denying Jim the sustenance of fresh flow. And in keeping his familiar, like a bonded prisoner, to drink only from his veins, The Cardinal was mirroring the injustices done to him, reanacting his own traumas when he himself had been a blood slave, once upon a lifetime ago. It was not like him, but his sickly natures were spilling out, for while the Grucifix he had been wearing had housed the cursed stone, the stone's curse was rather simple... it brought out and fed, the worst in those it affected.*

* It summons evils from within... going unoticed until the damage was too great to ignore, and the demonic feeding that posessed it, while granting power, granted also madness *

*The power had gone to the Cardinal's head, the tour had been wildly successful. The erruption of fame and fortune, the masses throwing themselves at his feet, compelled by his silver toungued voice, the grandeur of his presence, and controlled by his will, the warbling of The Cardinal's song had enchanted millions... But behind the scenes and round the trailers, Copia had behaved like a dirty scavenger, latching on to anything that had a bloody pulse, and draining it to death without mercy. He had preyed on the weak and vulnerable, the ones like the network of blood donors, who would let him drain them far beyond what they should, even to an inch of death out of desperation for the euphoria of his venomous bite... even taking them on like disposable lovers, all while *his Jim* suffered in silence...*

*To the public, a charming man of wealth and taste... but two faced was his visage. And in the dark he had been something terrible, something else entirely...*

One of the pale hands left the Cardinal's shoulder, and was brought to the shadows where the younger man stood. The red glow of his eyes, soft, and yet so piercing. He bit into his wrist and stiffened, feeling the way the Cardinal instantly whipped back to latch onto the wound, like a desperate leech, gripping hands wrapped around the presented arm as if it might be taken away. Feral, hating, gluttony at it's core...

Copia couldn't care at the moment, how his companion in the dark looked on with disdain and pity. He was groveling for the blood flowing warm over his mouth, and the soft whimpers and groans leaving him were battering his own ears. The word he embodied, was one he had tried to run from for years- from Nihil, from His Mother, from the responsibility of his calling, and cowering in this place, because Daryn, the man before him, was the only one who could satisfy the blood lust from the sickness crawling in his own veins, the word the Great Cardinal Copia embodied, debased, and internally alone, was 

*pathetic*.

"There has to be a way," Copia thought, his dualed mind reaching far and out for answers to the impossible, "there has to be-"

*

"There is" Lucius replied, the forces of his darkness brewing behind the shudder of his barely moving lips.

"But by all the unholy, is such a journey long..."

The Grey deamon smiled softly, an eerie shaddow in his countenance that glowed green, the intensity of which mirrored that of the hellfire that both threatened to consume everyone, and refine them like the crucible of fate, "a plague..." hissed the Oracle deamon, his vision hazed and far, of rats and snakes and spiders and blood, "a plague on all your houses...."

*A war could still break between now and the trek up the hill through to the campgrounds off the lakeside, Valefar was captured but not killed, at least, not that they knew, the next objective was to rescue the Lady Milagro before either Valefar’s feindish friends discovered her whereabouts,*

*or the lycans to find her and rope her into their civil politics and be the face of their war, a leashed martyr or the face of it’s victory…*

*or someone in The Ministry decides they want to exploit her abilities as a bargaining chip to the highest bidder,*

*All wanted this valuable pawn, and all hell to break loose…*

Copia, wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, tattered from his escape, winding a bit where the ligature marks on his wrists were slowed in their healing from his ordeal, and rubbing them gently, The Cardinal spoke up, “There’s only one place I think *she would go looking for any one of us- and Jim’s right, we should start moving, we get caught in these woods during the witching hour we might as well just dig a hole and lie in it. I don’t want this standoff between the covens to happen on Lycan turf-”

“And I don’t want Vampires anywhere near the gathering, likely to start the war itself just for pissing off the wrong wolfe, or the likes of Lero-” Emmanuel interrupted, already unhappy with the way everything was going at the moment.

Thaddeus hitched a thumb towards the hill, “You mean the *Loups* tribe elected Lero their leader? Oh that's not good.”

*Versed in some of the Lycan politics, unlike the vampires of their group, Emmanuel nodded gravely, and Thaddeus, seeing the implication of the Mad-Dog Leader being over the highly controversial band of Lupine species, was like learning the controversial Alpha's namesake, Nero, was leading bestial hellhounds of abominations through the very hell-fires of Rome for sport… his manipulation and cruelty, only matched by his diabolical ambition…*

Emmanuel sighed, wiping down his face with a calloused palm, “I hope Millie didn’t run off and run into them* first” he sighed.

“Ah, take it our buddy Lero is bad news bears?” Jim asked, eyebrow cocked.

“OH, worser'an tha,” Ruben chuckled emphatically, “blimey the bastard likely rip anyone ta pieces firs, than ask questions later on a good day- Ow!”

Thaddeus had elbowed Ruben in the stomach, seeing Copia's face drain pale like a ghastly sheet. Jim squeezed Copia's hand, a hard lump bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hearing the description. Emmanuel shot a look at Ruben who's animated face suddenly quieted and looked away.

“Meant no ‘fense” he muttered ruefully.

All eyes turned to the cliffside, where beyond the ridge the dim light pollution of various fires, strobes, and lanterns marked where the great gathering of the lycans was taking place-

“Surely she wouldn’t go there! Doesn’t she know what that might mean for her to set foot in those camps?” Thaddeus said, an edge of something more concerned than anyone took the thought to know of him to be for a stranger- he was kind, but pragmatic, and his tone seemed a bit more invested than a man who supposedly knew nothing of the woman of subject. Jim and Emmanuel's eyes narrowed, pocketing that information for later...

Ruben clapped Thaddeus on the back, “Here you on about it? Civilians get’er pass to walk through, ‘tout retribution’, even if she did wander in. But I reckon if she went tha’way she come in the back door side- from wha’ ‘Emmanuel said afore, she’s right smart’er than average lot, un I don’ mean to put sa’fine a point ta it, but, from the brief I saw’o’er, an heard, she’s two steppin ahead of anyone on her own tail, and out of harms way.” Ruben grinned confidently, good naturedly shifting his belt around his great frame, taking a sniff as he adjusted, rocking on his heels, “Aye, she’s might strong’er than most too I reckon- bes’not uner’esmate a cat with nine lives”. Thaddeus looked a bit puzzled as he nearly fell forward from Ruben’s bin-lid sized hand-clap to the back, balancing a moment on the balls of his toes, muddy shoes squelching unpleasently.

“A Cat?” Thaddeus asked, “I thought she was a Vampire, not a changeling?”

Copia and Jim looked at each other urgently, as if the mention had just warranted their woman caught in the headlights- “Er’ that's’ something for another moment to explain,” Copia said quickly, catching Thaddeus mid rock to steady him, “Come on- we’ve allot of ground to cover and we have to think of something fast to get us into that encampment.” The Cardinal said, pointing towards the cliff and the trailhead that would lead through to it.

Emmanuel harrumphed, clearly fielding the comment about their next mission to mean himself to be the elected leader, "Not much ground to cover if ya ain’t sneakin’ mate, and I ain't sneakin’ into me own camp- be as it may, whoever’s in my company, guests and masters walk through the FRONT door, and that’s what I mind to do with you lot ”. The tall Aussie strolled off at a march, rolling up his sleeves as he went.

The pallor in Cardinals face colored a soft pink, his emotions on edge and his fangs itching to tell The Lycan off- the valley was owned by the Emeritus estate, but the camps were neutral grounds, and Emmanuel seemed too eager to claim otherwise and plant a flag where he didn't belong…

“Hang on dude-” Jim called out, “you just got done complaining Vampires bein’ there gonna get everyone killed, the hell you thinkin to mean ta walk on in like ya own the place-”

“The gathering came because I came first and raised the distress flag- if’n Millie’s there, ain't no distress to gather for, I found my girl, everyone leaves- if the rotten Blood-fang coven leaders of *your kind* had arrived by now a fuck it awl up, we woulda known it from the screams.” He called back non-challant.

As Emmanuel walked off, Jim looked incredulously at the others in the group, thumbing towards Emmanuel, “This guy, for real? He’s the one started all this mess on the hill?” But, before anyone could answer, Emmanuel threw his own response over his shoulder, “S’wah happens when someone messes with me and *my girl*.”

At that Copia's face went hot, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Emmanuel kept walking, but the crack in his knuckles balling into fists as he went did not go unnoticed. Copia pinched the bridge of his nose a moment as he mumbled, "Don't start Jim."

The Alpha's response seemed like a word of finality on his part, which Jim didnt take kindly too,.

“It's a good thing the woman makes up her own mind, stead of following somone else's!” Jim called back.

Jim wrinkled his nose, crossing his arms while flapping a hand open towards Emmanuel, the train of thought clear from him to Copia-

"Yes, yes- just, let it go a moment", Copia replied verbally, though it seemed both men while mentally annoyed with eachother, we're most visibly annoyed by Emmanuel.

Jim rolled his eyes, about to stomp in the other direction. Copia, taking Jim’s hand as if it would fly away, shrugged, trying to encourage him.

Thaddeus and Ruben shared a look, sensing the tensions amongst the group were pointing to some history they hadn't yet been privy too. Feeling the urge to play peacemaker, Thaddeus stepped up, putting a chummy hand to each man's arm-

“Well gentlemen, if we have any sure ticket to enter the party," he nodded towards Emmanuel and the hill, "an Alpha's entourage would be most accepted, if not at least welcomed customarily.” Thaddeus's tone was bright and sure, which for some reason, seemed to air a settlement in the group, nerves easing down some...

Emmanuel's steps on the gravely trail crunched farther away with no sign of slowing. The message clear, *get stepping or get gone*...

Jim sighed as he palmed his face, “I suppose if'n we walk into the lion’s den on faith, we do it together then?” The Preacher Man had been up for four days without a wink of sleep. Copia on edge and unconfident given his own traumas in the ordeal, seemed of little comfort to him now. All Jim could think of, now that he knew Copia was here and alright, was that Milagro, the one he was next worried for, and the most in love with, was depending on him and this rag tag group to bring her home safe… pushing aside his pride, he let go of Copia's hand, straightening his shirt as if readying himself for a board meet. No touch, all business...

Copia, momentarily distressed at the sudden lack of contact, felt his face turn pathetic in rejection but, quickly turned away and fumbled to put on his gloves he had retrieved before his earlier escape. Comforted by the squeeze of the tight leather he tried to straighten his collar, busying his hands to distract from the ball of nerves he was sensing and feeling pulse through the bond in he and Jim's heart strings. He was doing his best to hide the jitters trembling from his queasy stomach, but the reality was, his troubled heart's troubles were far from over...

*He could be so confident and suave, but it only was to mask his insecurity and fear, that was a rampant distraction in the moment… Jim was like Copia's emotional comfort blanket, and without it, The Cardinal was feeling like a quivering mess.*

Sensing as much, Thaddeus went up to Jim, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Cheer up Ol’ bean- the stories best remembered are the ones where against all odds, the heroes walk together into trouble-”

“Heh, trouble… I feel like Em is the reason so much trouble has drawn itself to the Valley. World was quiet before he ever came-”

“And quieter still, it can be.” Thaddeus smiled, his hopefulness bordering naivete’, if it weren't for the fact that he had his own secrets to keep in the chaos about this fray, that he needed to temper his expression for. Emmanuel’s ear twitched and yet he pressed onwards up the half overgrown trail, spearheading the group movement to the Lycan encampment.

Some time had passed before the end of the trail was in sight, and along the way, there had been a silence that seemed to set everyone on edge. The sound of wind whispering in the branches carried on as if heralding an omen towards their destination. The trick of the moonlight against animal eyes and shining leaves left the wayside thick of trees indescribable from the shadows of what may have been passing or.walking along with them. The groan and creak of settling wood and the creeping grind of heavy stone ached at every step, for while the wood could have been itself in the night or day, it felt as if "the something wicked this way comes" was marching with them, and the company on the trail was only a half pace before it... or behind...

Copia remained quiet, his steps soft and faded, like a statue on a garden wall blending away into the safety of being overlooked. Thaddeus held the space for it, and let Jim take second lead, Copia third, and a folloed few paces behind him...

Eventually Ruben, unable to take the eerie quiet any longer, picked up his pace from the back of the line, falling closer in step with Thaddeus, leaned his bearded face low and in hushed tones asked the question that seemed to be in silent debate amongst them, “So er, wha’s this ‘bout yer pastor friend and his er, accomp’ment thas got all yer knickers in a twist?”

Thaddeus, murmured back, what he did know, and guessed at what he didn’t…

“Well, to tell the truth Rube, it seems the gentlemen ahead, including that Lycan up front, share the same affinity for the same lady-”

“The Lycans and The vampires have been at war for ages, as you know, however there have been some recent politics in the past, oh, two or three centuries, as numbers of both sides have dwindled… from modern persecutions, or civil wars, but betwixt the two, have had more losses than life could sustain. A Treaty was struck some 70 years prior that a 100 year’s truce would be upheld by both sides, to which they both agreed, to have sufficient time to replenish their populus numbers. Now, I know less of the Vampiric state of affairs than that of the Lycans, but, suffice it to say, I know enough to guess at the situation at hand- and also, from what I've been told from contacts prior to the arrival of you and I, this gathering is remeniscent of a standoff with, oh how to describe… like a Cold War amongst the various, Children of the Night.”

“Oh well I know’r tha’, but what's that have ta do with-”

“Half a moment lad, I'll tell you. ” Thaddeus said, looking pointedly ahead and falling slower in his stride, to be less in an ear-shot to those in the company. Time was limited as the trail would soon end, the end of which was where it seemed a raucous noise of wolves and lycans was rising. Thaddeus managed to squeeze out what he could in so short a time…

Jim and Copia, ever good at hearing kept pace but a step slower, listening in, curious to what the outsider had to say about what he thought was going on in their corner of the world...

Emmanuel, determined to ignore everyone, kept marching, face hardening at every wolf cry and howl that came from the camp not far ahead, as if his brave face was a mask he had to paint on with each step.

Thaddeus continued his accounting…

“You see, like you said, this Lady Milagro appears to be a civilian caught in the midst of this treaty, both sides laying a sort of claim to her in their numbers. From what I've gathered, she has been officially accepted into the ranks of the Vampiric covens, though not a vampire herself, apparently... but, for their own reasons to do with a sort of *Costra Nostra* game, Im sure she has some sort of, numerical or anticipated value to them."

Ruben noded, keeping his voice low, "Shame tha', for the bit I saw o her, glimse wise, she seemed a nice thing- but well, like I said t'ya, she spirited away right unusual like afore I could say hullo."

"Yes. Quite puzzling that, though Copia, the associate of mine in the party, had alerted me that the lady had some sort of, condition, that might require my expertise-”

"Yer about creatures tho aren't 'ye?"

"Well yes but, I have no idea the overlap with the vampiric she might have. I've a theory but, nothing to point to outright just yet. From what you mentioned Rube, she slunk away too fast even for the likes of you." Thaddeus teased, giving Ruben’s stomach a half hearted nudge, "and here I thought you were game at catching magical creatures or the like-"

“We’re here” Emmanuel interrupted, stopping short of the trail end, “Now listen, you lot follow my lead in things, and mind your manners, here especially. Not everyone here wants to start a war, but the ones that do will take your slights and presence as an act of it, and by the singular virtue of me own Alpha standing, as my guests, you should remain untouched. But so help me if I'm responsible for you, means I have my own duties to mind about your presence here. Don't put me in a pidgeon hole! Engage with no one, keep heads up and eyes down- even if touched unless you are prepared to start a brawl, DO NOT be the first to throw a punch, got it?"

“She’s fasser than she ought ta be, and swore it to ya, as I seen her shaddow go, she's a cat! Whoever feeds her's who's door step she raps at! An' I passed her runnin out of one, not into et! Wasn' prepared with a treat or treatsie!” Ruben chuckled quietly.

Thaddeus tisked unamused, “Not exactly. A shape shifter yes, but qualities unique to things rarely seen, and even lesser known, hence my expertise was requested. Now you see, our Cardinal Copia had some sort of Mix up with that Valefar fellow who has been accumulating followers of the vampiric covens, and unusually, and unsanctioned, had begun to amass in the woods of this very valley. At the same time, something else was afoot- about her-”

The group nodded in agreement but Emmanuel held up a hand to Thaddeus, a yellow gleam flashing in his eyes as he issued his final warning, “I don’t care what *you do, long as it stays outside this camp… Takes one to know one, and far as i know it, no one else knows bout you bein here. ‘Nless youre ready to accept the ways of it, keep it that way- there is no half assed alliances here, either you are, or are NOT in this gathering, and should ye set foot in this camp, hiding in plain sight will get everyone killed on suspicion of spying parties and whatnot…”

Thaddeus looked disappointed but nodded saying, “I understand. However, do know Emmanuel, the reason I have any jurisdiction to operate in this valley is that a large number of “blood fangs”, as you so call the vampires, have gathered along with international parties including of the Lycan kind… this is precarious, and The Minister of Defense in the wizarding world is watching what appears to be a personnel-arms-race on neutral grounds- as those grounds begin here,” Thaddeus said, pointing to the end of the trail, “I have MY own duties to see to about preventing a scaled uprising, of *any kind*- creature or wizard, shifter or civilian, all is a danger to discovery if left unchecked. I’m here to see that it remains, checked, as so-”

“So you're threatening me now?” Emmanuel smirked, a dare in his eye.

“Not at all!” Thaddeus said, a small smile to a serene face that eyed Emmanuel the way a man with an ace holds his eye past the hand of cards he knows his opponent has, confident, and calculating, “I was sent to observe, and call for reinforcements should things get out of hand. I intend to maintain the sanctity of this valley as if it were a magical preserve- out of public eye and out of establishing it as a war zone. I also have my own interests that require keeping this pocket of the world off the radar, and out of the wrong hands.”

“And who would you say the wrong hands would be?” Emmanuel asked.

Thaddeus held out his left hand, where-in a hand carved wand lay in the palm, expertly turned like a knife. Thaddeus smiled and flicked the wand up his sleeve and replied, “This wand, represents a secret guild to which was founded by my mentor some years ago- we have vowed to follow natural law, that where imbalance lies, forces will apply. But all for the sake of our sworn words, which I hold dearer to my conscience than any covenant of blood or bone…”

Everyone looked at Thaddeus now, eyes trained to him, his trained to Emmanuel's unyielding stare, and a wizarding voice cutting with every word he thusly spoke, “I vow my life to the perseverance of others, my power to the weak, and my protection to the realms of heaven and earth. I am a servant of the world I walk, and no harm shall my pride commence. I am a watchman of its people, and a protector of its creatures' , in other words, the wrong hands you speak of, Emmanuel, are the hands of those that seek to destroy what the ballance of nature has created.”

“... So, who’s side are ya on then Mr. Mason- Dixon?” Jim asked.

Thaddeus made a funny face but turned to Jim and answered anyway,

“The side that I believe in all my heart is right. And that is no coven, tribe, species, or party here... Call my words cryptic, but it is my answer.”

Copia shrugged, “So, third party personally, affiliated with Wizard world parties in the global politics? You are a conundrum Teddy, I’ll give you that.”

Ruben snorted and tried to cough away his chuckle. Teddy cocked a half smile at Copia.

“Teddy?” Jim asked.

“It’s a name I prefer outside of my official duties, my inner circles know me by the name.”

“Ah… so the man behind the mask.” Emmanuel smirked, looking Teddy up and down. Teddy sort of tilted his head this way and that, and flicked out his wand again, a silvery sparkle that sounded like a soft pop shown before extinguishing.

“The world made the mask for me- who am I to deny the opportunities it yields- who knows, the hundred year truce may yet be torn asunder from our feet this very night, having a world and an identity beyond it up my sleeve, may not only save my own skin, but may yet save yours, my friends.”

Jim shot a look to Copia, who grinned back, “I told you, best man I’ve got in my pocket so far!”

“A *Paid consultant?” Emmanuel shot back with disapproval.

“Not at all,” Teddy grinned, “I’m a professional in subverting expectations- my work behind the scenes has saved and spared more lives and wars than you might even deign to know of- but in any case, the hour grows late, and I for one, would like to be anywhere but these woods when whatever happens happens, and if what Father Defroque and The Cardinal say about this valley at the witching hour is true, best to be scarce, unless I'm prepared for something awful and extraordinary to befall me- and I rather keep my natural life long, if it’s all the same to you-” Thaddeus gave a slight nod as if to bow out, and motioned to Ruben, “You know what to do when I give the signal, let us rendezvous at the boat at, half past three. If I'm not there, well, then you also know what to do.”

“Right-” Ruben said, pulling his trousers higher up his large belly and suddenly disappearing before everyone’s eyes, strange ghastly ghost orbs and popping sounds seeming to trail where the large man might be teleporting to, some yards at a time. Thaddeus, or Teddy as he now made himself to be known, turned back to the group before walking off, “I wish you all the best of luck, I won’t be far, but if you see anything unusual in the sky, find each other quickly, stay together, and try not to wander out of the neutral grounds.”

“In other words, bullshit in the sky, hold hands, don’t leave the campgrounds.” Emmanuel summed up impatiently.

“Bingo.” Teddy winked, and with that he stepped towards the trees and vanished, small sparks and popping sounds indicating his path of travel into the woods beyond...

“Well. that was fucking cryptic as all hell!” Jim whistled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Dramatic that one.” Emmanuel said, shaking his head and straightening his shoulders. Copia squeezed Jim's hand, “He’s got his reasons. Like he said, he survives off subverting other’s expectations, not a concept that we are strangers too... If you work with him long enough, he makes more sense than pennies on the dollar”.

“Whatever you say babe,” Jim sighed, “guess we’re following you, Em?”

Emmanuel nodded and took off his shirt, baring a barrel chest pinted in sigil tattoos that neither Jim nor Copia recognized, his sailcloth shirt crumpled in hand while in the other dangled a string and pendant, a mark of his rank in the Lycan world, “Keep hands visible, walk slow behind me, and like I said before-”

“Yeah yeah, eyes down, hands to ourselves… Jesus it’s like taking the highroad while getting pushed round the schoolyard” Jim huffed.

Copia swallowed nervously, “Yeah, except, we are outnumbered a thousand to one?”

“More like two-” Emmanuel said, his size growing slightly as he allowed his lycan feature to present, “But with me in your corner, maybe a thousand and one.” He said, smirking, “but yeah, turn the other cheek.”

Jim mocked a scowl but understood the expectation.

Stepping foot off the path and onto what Teddy had identified as the beginning of neutral grounds, a change seemed to roll from the Alpha Lyucan’s shoulders. A sureness in his step and a focus to his eyes, thylacine stripes flickering and pulsing with every breath until his lycan form in it’s strange and bestial glory revealed fully- he lead the small party with purpose beyond that which they thought he had come. He had caused a raucous for so many lycans to have gathered here, but he also had a job to do, and it seemed to start with the moment the camp opened its gates, and there to greet him was a Tasmanian Devil, a subspecies of lycan, snarling smugly.

“Ah, come to answer for yourself, and your, fang-boy-friends?” The Tasmanian smiled, eying Jim and Copia like a meal, teeth sharp and tongue licking at them the way a wolf does in aggression to another. Without missing a beat Emmanuel used the hand with his rank stone to shove the Tasmanian at the chest aside, snapping at his neck in warning, making the lesser man wince and yelp softly in a cowered stance as Emmanuel scolded him, “You will speak when spoken to, not the other way around, beta- My guests walk under my protection- and your neck is mine if you address me out of turn again!”

The Tasmanian backed away, still growling and yawping as his other like specied friends gathered around to bolster their comrade's injured pride- it seemed, Thylacine bloods versus Tasmanian Devils specied had their own rivalry that Emmanuel had no time to mind over now. He knew he could take the lot- and such inherent confidence was enough of a bluff to keep the trio moving through the entrance of the camp, untouched- so far…

*Emmanuel had yet to lose a brawl or fight in his time as an Alpha- but he was not eager to test that title against the riled up crowd gathering to watch him and his companions making their way to the main lodge up the hill- tonight was about to get interesting, and even the lesser species wolfe and lycan knew, bowing out of his way was best for now…*

Jim and Copia kept their nerves steely and eyes down, as if uietly unconcerned, but the snapping of jaws at their heels and frothing spittle flying from every direction towards them spoke of the feral aggression their presence as outsiders was urging from the “Iron Claws”, as the Vampires of more respectable nature's, called the Lycan-kind. If it weren't for the men walking hand in hand, Jim and Copia would be far more deeply and visibly intimidated, a most dangerous thing to show in this circumstance, and in the jaws of Lycan and Wolfe gathering as numerous as this, indeed every step was leading them closer, into playing this most dangerous game…

... A gme Where they could only *hope to get out alive...

The shade of black around Jim’s eyes and hands had darkened like angry smoke, as both the Alpha Lycan and the Vampire-Blix squared up as if about to come to blows.

The door knock startled the rearing men a moment, but before Emmanuel could clear his throat and bid the intruder enter or leave, in walked Johan, his husband, his face  fear-stricken with worry.

 Seeing his husband like that, got Emmanuel’s attention more than Jim’s fierceness ever could.

“Love, what’s the matter, you look right ghastly?” Emmanuel said, his demeanor gentler, crossing the room to Johan’s side, trying to rub warmth into the pale man’s arms that trembled, though not with cold. 

Clutching onto Emmanuel's shirts, Johan anxiously sought his Alpha's counsel, “Copia finally came out of The Emeritus house, he traveled here and, and he’s worried about Teddy, talking about sending search parties for him, want's to know what we are doing- what am I going to tell him?”

Emmanuel's face darkened. 

*Copia was a guest, but the Vampires weren't meant to meddle with Lycan affairs per the 100 year treaty- and Emmanuel's hold on his people was already beginning to slip in the harsh of the winter, answering to Copia, who had been a personal problem to him of late, threatened to undermine the fragile control Emmanuel had, to keep his people in line, to survive...

“Tell him that Emmanuel thinks freezing in the dark is fine if it’s Teddy doin’ the freezin’!” Jim said bitterly, making his way to the door. Emmanuel made as if to hold the door shut, "As a guest in my home, and under my protection, NO ONE is going out there tonight! I'm not getting another one of my family lost or killed over some-els' pent up uh'motions!"

Jim scowled, disgust plainly painted on his face- 

*Emmanuel had blamed Jim and Copia for Milagro's disappearance, they had been with her, or were 'supposed' to be, when she was taken. And she’d been stolen right under his nose, in this Very Abbey whose hallowed grounds were supposed to protect her… Had Emmanuel been the one in her company in their place, The Alpha was sure they would not have lost Milagro that day... and in some ways, it was true enough that Jim did blame himself... Jim had kept Copia from going after her when she had walked off after a nasty spat, and that had been the last anyone had seen of her since... So even while Emmanuel didn't say what his heart felt aloud, the message rang out hard like the gong of a death knell, the effect reverberating like an echo of what everyone was *really upset about; that He thought Jim was a liability, that the vampires in this weird little found family were responsible for him losing one of his mates, and for putting everyone, including his own pack in danger. But Milagro being stolen away, from Everyone, had deeply strained the relationships in the group, bonds breaking* 

The thick of the intensity and the insult of the implication made even Johan gasp and wince. Silvery hair whipping as he fast looked away, tears springing from his eyes that he hurriedly tried to wipe away. Johan's distress from the anger in the atmosphere made  the  hardened Emmanuel even more rigid, like a man about to snap.

Jim turned away, face red hot and eyes brimming with hurt and tormented rage,

“Ifn' Teddy ain ‘t back this time tomorra’ ah dont give a humbuggin’-damn Who's a guest or a member of your pack, Em. He’s our brother in this fraternity, I may wanna deck him with a  backhand on a given Sunday, but he's MY family TOO! And you aint the boss of *Me, or Copia for that matter... This time tomorra' I’ll go after the lost sheep, my *Dam self!” 

and with that, Jim slammed the door, sending a shake into the wall that tumbled a picture frame down with a wobbling thud. 

Emmanuel sunk into a nearby armchair, head back as he groaned or more like, growled in frustration. Johan, steeling himself a moment to try and fulfill his duties remarked, “Well that could have been handled better-” Johan said, plopping into the neighboring armchair, wiping his eyes trying to pull himself together. He was worried sick too. 

“Gaw, can’t make the whole world safe AND happy can I?!” Emmanuel complained, fingers snarling at his long hair, a self soothing habit. 

Johan frowned at his mate; Even a Northern wolf like Johan knew, the possibility of the pack dying and or dispersing was on the horizon, drastic measures had already been taken, and there was little more to be asked of anyone, hungry as they all were. 

*They had already sent a third of the pack off into the mountain with ‘Boss Andre' one of Emmanuel's most trusted leftenants, to survive and tend to the indoor crop fields they had established in the caverns, if only to make the feeding logistics of his pack stretch enough to last through the winter, a desperate  move meant to ensure some pack survivability should they, or the abbey, were to fall. Then, the decision had awfully been made to separate several of the families to save on rations, sending them away as another group of the most vulnerable, the old and infirm, to seek sanctuary at Copia’s Ministry miles away, and not everyone had survived that journey when beset by adversaries in the Valley.

 There were too many mouths to feed, to keep everyone at Emmanuel’s Abbey, and having lost their foothold at the geothermal lake side, when the Wendigos wandered into the camp, and The Loups sacked their abandoned village beyond immediate repair... It would be a miracle if the pack managed to survive at all...*

"Happy, perhaps not. Safe, that's all you can do." Johan tried to re-assure, holding Emmanuel's fisted hand in both of his, trying to warm it.

“Would take a god-sent miracle to keep everyone safe in one place- can’t send a search party out in weather like this, we need the strong ones here protecting everyone else. If the Loups return...” Emmanuel groaned, face tired and pale, his red hair making his face seem paler, highlighting the sharpness of his features brought on from not eating enough for some time... 

*and  the meager yule feasts he had scrounged for a day of bolstering pack morale, had been a gamble bordering recklessness, rations as meager as they already were, but it had been all for the good of his people. Emmanuel had not eaten much himself lately, and his own plates had often been sent, nearly untouched, quietly back to the kitchens to be given to someone else in need. It all was taking its toll...* 

Johan knelt in front of his husband, taking his face in his hands, “It takes more than self sacrifice in the planning Em, Takes faith to pull off a miracle. You’ll see, we’ll all be together again soon.” 

“You’re so sure of that? Millie’s gone gods know where, Teddy took off and who knows if he’ll ever come back, Copia may have poked his head out the dirt crack of his ass but he’ll be wallowing in self pity again, a use to no one, and Jim -” 

Johan interrupted his words, pulling Emmanuel to his shoulder and stifling his own hitching tears as he kissed Emmanuel’s hair, thinner now from stress and worry. 

“We must believe, you have to believe tomorrow will be kinder, my love. Despair is what ends the world. Hope is what keeps it alive. Milagro is alive I'm sure. Teddy will come home soon.... Copia will find his own strength to stand and render better aid. Jim will get his  heart's peace but you," Johan paused, cradling Emmanuel's face in his hands, “you will keep this family together in the end, you will see. You must believe. You will see my love, we all will see-" 

Emmanuel's lip trembled and he began to weep. Breaking down the steely barrier around his heart that had kept everyone, even his own husband at arm’s length. Like a dog that goes off to lick his wounds, the Alpha felt it a personal failing to be* weak, and the expression of his stoic demeanor had bordered on unfeeling pragmatism. But Johan knew better. 

He knew his mate's heart as deeply as Milagro knew it. He knew Emmanuel's health was failing- the way heartbreak  can make a dog sickened to death in grief, he saw the hope of his once bolstering, virile, champion of a husband falling by the wayside with every day that wore on in this cold winter. Emmanuel was fading, and if no word about Milagro reached them soon, Johan feared the alpha might die sooner than later. 

“Oh god’s protect us.” Johan pleaded through his own weeping.

Through the wee hours, he and Emmanuel held on to one another, if only to hold on, one day more, that there would be something beyond their dim horizons…

***

Part 2/2

December 25, Morning: Mari Makes Merry

Copia woke as if cold air had sucked too deeply into his lungs, sitting bolt upright, he coughed at the sensation of an icy draft hitting his lungs. The morning light creaked below the crack of his door, and the sound of pattering feet and excited voices seemed to race down the hall. “Fuck it’s cold”, Copia shivered, grabbing from the nearby chair of his guest quarters his red embroidered robe, scrambled up from his bed and threw open the door, heart leaping at the hope that Teddy, Milagro, or some other good news was prompting the excitement and chattering echoing down the halls.

“Scusi, scusi, eh, pardon- eh wait!” He called out hanging from his doorway, trying to grab the attention of one of the lycans bolting past, “What is going on here? What is the shouting, hey wait! Eh, You” he said, managing to nab the sleeve of a young boy straggling behind his friends, “What is going on today?” he motioned. The boy slipped past, calling back to Copia, “Who me? I dunno! Everyone’s running! Hey guys wait up!” the youngling called, chasing after his companions. Copia tsked, annoyed, “Bambinos” and reached into the velvet pockets of his robes for his gloves, but sighed upon finding nothing more than lint, some taffy wrappers, and an expired coupon for  condensed milk. Crumpling the sleeve ends into his fist he managed to cover his hands which were beginning to ache from the draft that he realized was coming from the direction everyone else was headed. “Satanas, so c-cold! Hello? Hey, what’s going on this morning-”

 “She’s here, she’s here!” a young Lycan called back to him as they ran away. “Who’s here?!” Copia tried desperately, finally running off to the hope of something impossible at the door of the Abbey. The crowd gathered there were piling at the half opened door, which was being held partly shut by Johan, who was trying to settle the crowd, but even he was wearing an excited smile on his face. Copia pushed towards the front of the crowd, tripping over his  ribbon trimmed slippers and trying to hold on to his long night cap amongst the jostle and jabbering crowd, “Johan, what the devil is going on round here! Freezing out the halls, what, what is-” 

“Copia, exactly who we need, come on!” Copia felt the yank of his shirts as he was pulled from the crowd through the door, which Johan had trouble closing behind them, chattering excitedly, “So many people, I should have called for you first, I’m sure you’ll do just fine!”

The crowd sounded their displeasure like children being shooed away from a gathering  at the grown-up table but they complied, and allowed the door to shut, a few Lycans tossing insults and shoving their arms up in gestures at not being allowed beyond the doors. Johan was pushing and pulling  every which way like an excited husky, circling and yapping at Copia too quickly and earnestly to be understood.

“Fine for what?!” Copia squeaked as a bit of snow  from the drift beyond the doors fell into the ankle corner of his slipper. 

“- and let the alpha negotiate first! Half a moment!”. 

Copia, flabbergasted at the whole situation, caught Johan’s arm as he was being dragged outside into the cold morning air, the sunshine heralding a light that was expectant of a Christmas morn, and yet, to Copia’s eyes, seemed too dazzlingly strong for its usual presentation. 

It was then Copia noticed The Alpha Emanuel was standing  ahead of them, and something was glowing beyond him, bright as a star upon its graceful approach, though it held no pain for Copia’s vampiric eyes. In fact,  bathed in the light he felt something warm him from it, and a smile he had not thought to make flashed over his face. Like a schoolboy he grabbed to Johan's arm, pulling excitedly, “Is that who I think that is?” 

Johan, his own grin wide and his silvery hair gleaming round his face like a halo, hugged Copia a moment, “Sometimes, someone is listening to our prayers! Come, Come Hurry!” 

As they moved to stand in line with Emmanuel, they found him mid conversation with a strange being of mirth and light, one many had only ever heard but rarely if ever saw, and it fueled a giddiness in the trio like kerosene to a flame…

“Copia!” Emmanuel cried merrily, embracing him a moment, “Come on mate, just finished wishing her a Happy Christmas, but I got a job off the Jobby tree for ya, you’re the lyricist ‘round here!” Emmanuel grinned, a smile on his face that seemed to put back a rose to his cheeks, “Might be 'bit hard to keep up with her, maybe ya got a rhyme or two she never heard before!” Shoving Copia forward he gulped in intimidation, “Right, parlay opportunity, go on, have a go!”

Before them stood a figure of mythical proportions, but unlike the games and pranks Copia had encountered in the ministry by those who had celebrated the wintry tradition, never before had stood in the presence of  Lady Luck, Mari Lwyd. *herself. 

Mari Lwyd. Credit: Urdd Derwyddon Môn

The magnificent horse skull jingled with the bells and holly that regally crowned her head, a clack-clack sound as she tossed around excitedly, happy for the welcome, and chomping at the bit, so to speak, for the potential of a challenge. 

The wave of her frocks revealed nothing beneath, she seemed to flow like silk over white water and move with a dancing rhythm effortlessly over the snow,, and she began the time-old game anew, the “Pwnco” battle of rhyme and wit exercising in merriment and jest, as she sought the company of those beyond the doorsteps.

“A Master in the doorway, a maiden at the door, 

where what comes this poet, to me to me, 

When thrice I knocked the door?” 

The figure swayed gently as if waiting for a reply. 

Copia swallowed, and looked over his  shoulder, “Maiden?” he hissed in question to his companions. Emmanuel giggled, nudging at Johan as if to explain whom the title belonged to , in Mari’s eyes. Johan pursed his lips almost to laugh, “Well I'm no poet or master” Johan mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck a bit embarrassed. Emmanuel swelled pridefully, stroking at the tuft of beard he sported while Johan, whom had shaved his gone that very morning, sort of wrapped up his long flowing hair  into a messy bun.

“She likes a little tease with her greetings, go on Copia, say hullo!” Emmanuel sniggered. 

“Ehehe, ehrm…” Copia thought a moment trying to collect his thoughts. Mari Lwyd, patient for the rhyming response, but impatient for the larders in the Abbey beyond the threshold they stood before, champed repeatedly, as if to say *speak, speak*. 

“Uhm, Mari maiden, merry making, 

dancing on a pole, er, 

we greet you here and bid you tidings, 

Glad, from our hobbit hole…?” 

Copia shrugged at his companions, feeling a tad anxious and more than a bit put on the spot. His fingers twisted in the sparkling cuff sleeves  of his robe, and he seemed to stand uneasily from one slippered foot to the other.

Johan chortled  at Copia’s clumsy comeback, and Emmanuel suppressed a smile behind his hand, eyes wide at the stumbling attempt Copia had made to speak with a legendary figure, but good naturedly, held a thumbs up for Copia’s effort. It seemed the rhyme pleased and appeased the ghostly equine spirit, who bowed in response, accepting Copia’s verse. Copia coughed awkwardly, but remembering his manners, did the same in turn, bowing a bit lower than the mythic figure before him. Emmanuel and Johan collected themselves quickly and bowed as well, though they traded a glance at one another  that almost seemed to set them off again.

Mari tossed her head proudly, and set about her usual requests, in rhyme of course

"Ale and Beer run plenty where 

company does meet, 

let me enter there within,

 and luck shall be your treat!" 

Johan’s eyes widened as he tugged excitedly at Emmanuel’s sleeve. Emmanuel looked a bit uneasy. He had dealings with dieties and spirits, and knew one’s words could very well be turned upon them, if one was not careful.

Emmanuel shook his head at Copia, a smile still there, but beneath it Copia sensed his thoughts. 

So, Copia put them to rhyme to pose to Mari, hoping this *parlay* would turn in their favor. 

"Er, Mari Lwyd, it's true  it's true, 

our company makes Merry, 

but meager are the larders there, 

No fish or wine to spare,

we've no wish to offer you, 

company without the food, 

for true is true, the table's nearly bare, 

and the barrels even more empty."

Mari snorted and clacked, of course put off, as she had been denied from entry to the Abbey. But it had not been the first in all her years for her to be denied on the basis of ‘not having enough to share’, the excuse was so commonplace, it was with a haughty voice she spoke her next verses. 

"Coffeers empty at the church?

And It's priest with robes so fair and fine," 

the snap of her teeth in the bobbing white skull made Copia flinch, barely missing the nip at his pretty sleeve cuffs that surely would have caught a finger, but Mari continued her scolding, 

"If what you say be true to me,

 then Iv'e a mind to make you see, 

exactly how empty your ale and wine,

can be from the likes of me!"

"Oh no-no no, I don't mean to insult-" Copia panicked, remembering how quickly a band of Mari Lwyd wassailers could clear a pantry, much less a wrathful Lady of Luck. Hands waving in worrying placation, Mari began to push past him, the spell all but broken with his just stuttered words and their lack of rhyme.

Johan stepped up, shoving Copia aside, instead motioning towards Emmanuel who looked  even more worried, that this negotiation was not going well, and the scant supplies in his hold would be pilferred and pillaged by Mari.

Johan bowed, addressing Mari, 

"The Cardinal here is not of the parish at *this door, Mari please you,the master here, holds no finery from thee,!" 

Mari snapped her head towards Johan, clearly unpleased with the interruption of her  commencing her treating. 

Copia, trying to recover his wit, but unable to find the words, recognizing the  grave gravity of the situation, bit his lip as if he might cry.

Johan pressed, supplicant hands extended  towards the pale billows of Mari's robes, 

"He means to welcome, and play the game,

 no lies, or deceit to the merry poor-," Johan gulped, trying to respond properly, and all at once also remember his previous words, for if he could not rhyme them to Mari's satisfaction, she would push past him too.

"-to, to the merry poor, Mari please you, 

as the sun appears, your invitation rises to treat me?"

Mari wasn't having it. She snorted in annoyance, 

"Fumbles man and his friends, 

true or not I shall come in! 

The game is done, for I have won, 

 Against your wit-words, pale and thin!" 

She cantered eerily in triumph past Johan who looked to Emmanuel, afraid of what Mari might do.

But Emmanuel folded his arms and stood his ground at the door, and addressed the ghastly creature straight on.

"Mari I am the master here, 

no clumsy words be uttered here, 

for plain I speak to what you seek,

 and ye shall not enter here." 

Mari looked astonished, bells at her brow shuddering.  A sidelong glance and a pointed stare from her eyeless sockets, seemed gravely keen to out-cun the current challenger.

"Master indeed," she champed and stamped, 

"Clear you see, your champions lost their tongues!

And so my right to enter here, having been first invited there,-"

"But it is *I who am the master here, 

and your challenger be me!"

Emmanuel put his hands on his hips, and Mari Lwyd brayed in protest, but he had indeed caught her off guard. 

Before she could argue her cause further, Emmanuel bowed low, with a gentleman's air, though he had no hat or glove. 

"You wish to treat and beg my bread,

and ale you deem so fine, 

straight and true,I do tell you-"

"By rights are rightly mine!" Mari  interrupted, not bothering to bow in return. Emmanuel held his ground upon rising,

“My table to the stranger be, 

open as it is to thee, 

but what little left lies therein 

must fill the bellies my poor kin, 

who merry make what scant there is, 

for they, on the ‘morrow, 

may find none to dine again." 

"It matters not what spare be left, 

I bargain  not for  beggar’s bread,

 deny me what left is left, 

I spare none to bless your head." Mari huffed a lowing sound afterward.

"Lady Luck, Mari Lwyd, I beg no spare of thee! 

But as my companions have clumsy said, 

were true in word both twice again, 

I have no bred to bargain-beg,

I have no ale for thee."

Mari snorted, and stamped.

"Be this your final parting ask,  

that ye turn my luck away?"

Emmanuel pursed his lips, brow furrowing behind his pallid features. 

Luck was what they needed more than anything now, but to invite a being of the likes of Mari Lwyd in, with nothing to serve that wouldn't take from the mouths of the already hungry, scant rationed people living within, the pain in his face was apparent; Emmanuel  gasped softly in realization, that he couldn't win either way. 

Losing the game, even worse if lost on purpose to appease the weird wild spirit, would likely prompt Mari Lwyd to raid the Abbey’s larders  beyond replenishment, and cause mischief, irreparable with the precious few supplies they had, and she would be in her rights to do so.

She had been properly greeted and challenged, and all hinged on what might be said next... 

...for turning her away also meant to turn away what little luck he thought might benefit to keep his people fed to survive winter… to hold his family, Copia, Jim, Johan and Teddy together… to bring Milagro home- with luck to spare for the babies he hoped she was still carrying. 

Johan stood next to his husband, his own face twisted in sadness at the wayward development of what had seemed a miracle in meeting; Johan felt it was his own fault, he had begged for luck and his ancestral gods clearly sent Mari his way, and now, he might have to turn her away, perhaps forever... 

Emmanuel sighed and stood his solemn ground, and opened his mouth to speak- but Copia swooped up before him, and engaged with Mari, one more time…

"Mari, Mari, be not contrary, 

for good luck in your garden grows-" Copia pulled at his robe, removing it to expose the thin night clothes beneath. Immediately shivering with cold, he held the robe out to Mari, 

“Upon my word, and emblem cloak, 

beseech I to your heart of hope, 

*My own home larders in exchange for 

your entry in, 

in sparing these the succored poor-"

Copia took a deep breath and spoke, the last of his verse,

"- Mari Lwyd, merry through

 these doors, and your blessings go-o'er, 

pray thee be shared, therein."

Copia’s eyes flit a moment toward Emmanuel, who was so touched by the gesture of Copia’s offer that he couldn't say with his choked up words what his thoughts and eyes said for him…

And Copia knew, he had done all he could, praying to whoever was listening, that this would work…

Mari tilted her great head, the bells at her crown tinkling curiously. 

The quiet of the morning teemed in anxiousness, as if the icicles melting in the light had frozen in place to listen to what Mari might say next.

She regarded Emmanuel and Johan at the door, and then stared down at Copia, the cold bone of her face seeming like a white glacier, hard and cold.

"A bird twitters to my ears, 

like a cuckoo in the nest, 

why should I heed such flattery,-"

"Because these friends are my best!" Copia blurted out. 

Everyone blinked, and even Mari seemed taken aback by the outburst. 

Copia cleared his throat,  and knelt in front of Mari, still holding out his robe, but spoke clearly despite the cold trembling of his limbs. His fingers ached and his reddened nose burned, snow bitten ankles icy and numb, but steady came The Cardinal's voice, soft and humble as the winter bird’s song, 

"I sing no jest, I bare no ill, 

this cloak shall prove my word-" Copia said quietly,  

"If, go ye to *My home this day, 

bounty yours waits, rightful still,

and find ye, no cuckoo bird..." 

Mari swayed for a moment as if contemplating The Cardinal's words.

*The Abbey and the land beyond had been given to Emmanuel and his people by the Emeritus Estate, and thoughthe estate itself was in the midst of its own struggles in housing the majority of the Ministry, and caring for the lycans sheltering in their sanctuary, as it was, it was true- 

If Copia ordered for the doors to be open and the pantries to be cleared, it would be done. Copia may not have been the Master of Emmanuel's home, but he was still an Emeritus. While Nihil was the master of House Emeritus, Copia had risen the ranks and owned the blood,  enough that his word would be commanded, and whatever his will, could swear by his word, and would be done.*

All was quiet in anticipation, and the world seemd to hold its breath.

Then, in a motion smooth and light, Mari Lwyd picked up the robe with her teeth, and swung it round her tall shoulders, with an air as if the cloak had always been hers to wear so elegantly. 

She began to cough and spit, icy flecks gurgling from her mouth until at last a bridle bit was spat forth, caught in Copia's hand. He looked uncertainly at Mari, then at Emmanuel and Johan who looked just as stunned and in awe. Emmanuel stood aside, arm pushing at the great door, Johan moving to the other to heave it open against the excited crowd eagerly waiting inside. To Copia, Mari bowed with a gentle slope and spoke, 

"Bound in oath and bound to thee, 

Merry will I make within, I Mari will lead thee, 

and by twilight ye, as oath decree,

To your home, shall ye lead me."

The words seemed both soft and stern, and it reminded Copia of Sister Imperator, who had not many days ago ‘voluntold’ him to do something, requiring him to put on a face and be happy for everyone else's sake, the irony not lost on him. 

Still, he had a promise to fulfill, and likely upon leading Mari to his home to raid the Ministry Pantry Sister imperator would fly off the handel, and still he would have to maintain a spirit of merriment, for her sake, he had enough angry gods and curses  and enemies clawing at the edge of the Valley to make an enemy of  a Lady of Luck such as Mari. 

Of the two, he was more scared of his mother than Mari, but bravely he  faced this head on, for had a job to do. 

*These Lycans were sheltering from the outside world in His Ministry’s Valley, and though tensions were high between the Lycan King’s court and The Head Families of the vampiric covens, this effort so easily could be misinterpreted for agenda and gain, and the secrets of The Cardinal and his fragile coven, Emeritus Novum, could  be discovered and thus prove deadly in this long game… but Copia had to have faith, he had to be humble, and he had to prove he was a man true to his word…*

So, Copia swallowed hard, nodding as Mari tugged him along like a stableboy hanging on to an unruly horse. 

But as the doors opened and the squeals and shouts of excitement for seeing the lucky mythical being in the flesh, Copia couldn't help but smile up at the likes of the Wiley Meri Lwyd! 

*

He seemed to barely touch the ground as Mari happily champed and chuffed at the curious hands she allowed to stroke her nose and twirl in her (and Copia’s) robes, galloping and bounding round the great hall like a foal in the spring amongst the Lycans and their friends. The room brightened dazzlingly, and it seemed winter's cold held no foothold on the austere stone and brick that had rebuilt this place. It was a miracle, everyone forgot they had been going hungry for so long, that their meager yule feasting had been rationed, that not all their loved ones were there to make merry with them, that for a moment, there was true wonderment and joy for the magic of the morn. 

Hell, even Emmanuel had forgotten he was dying of worry and malnourishment and was laughing and making merry with his people as his Leftenant Ricky Tan lead the Abbey in song, raising a drink of watered down rum in toast, the very last watery rations of what the bottom of the barrels left in the cellars from the night before, brought out in celebration of the first time arrival of the Likes of Mari Lwyd to Ministry Valley.

The world truly did seem merry and bright and Mari gracefully dipped her head into the tankard Ricky held aloft to drink!

Then,

Not long after the toast, the great doors burst open dramatically, and there stood Boss Andre! Emmanuel's second leftenant had just arrived at Abbey with his group of Lycans behind him! 

"Sorry we-we're late, we didn't s-see that the pass ha-add opened until m-mid morning!" The cold and excitement had intensified his natural stutter, but no one, not even Mari, seemed affected- Boss Andre motioned with a low woof, and all at once, in poured The Missing loved ones, who had gone that autumn into the mountain, in tearful reunion, bearing the successful harvests from the farms in the caverns, like the bounty of a cornucopia. They were met with cheers and applause, and laughing hugs and proud clapping of backs . "Oh god's we're saved, we're saved!" 

Emmanuel burst into tears embracing his lifelong friend, “Andre you right bastard, no word down the mountain, though you lot were lost-”

“N-no one c-can stop us from c-com-ming back h-home,” Andre smiled, tightly embracing his best friend, The Alpha, “w-we sent a sc-scout w-with the reports a-and seems l-like the sun magicall-ly melted down the p-pass and so, he-here we are!”

“Late but in time for Christmas.” Emmanuel laughed, the tears of relief rolling down his rosying cheeks. He looked over Andre’s shoulder towards Mari, who was already looking at him, and she bowed her head in a gentle nod. Emmanuel nodded back to her in thanks. Copia, in wonderment and a bit flustered at being hauled around at Mari’s whim, also noticed Emmanuel, and nodded back as well, glad that his friend had accepted his gift, and then smiled up at Mari, thankful that she had accepted his offer as well. The rejoicing in the abbey was so glorious it echoed through the valley, and would last long into that night. 

As everyone gathered outside  at the setting of the sun to bid Mari Lwyd farewell, Copia waved back as he prepared to gently guide her down towards the long road to The Emeritus estate by twilight. Emmanuel stood before his people, and led them in a final song in honor of the day and of Copia, and Mari, and for the hope that love and friendship held for them all.

*"So fill to me, a parting glass, 

and drink a health, where er' you roam. 

We gently rise, and softly call, 

goodnight and Joy be to you all... goodnight, 

and Joy be to You all."*

Jim, who had kept the celebrations at arms length in his worry for his still missing friend Teddy, and the woman they shared, had observed the farewell from a window facing the road. 

Copia looked back once more before the Abbey fell out of sight, and spotted Jim in that window. 

*They had only just reunited, and after so short a time, were already parting. It twisted achingly between them both, and the thought of a prayerful song struck harmonious on the bonded cord between them, like a blessing of hope to the strength of a lifeline…*

Jim held his frown from spilling over, and with tears in his eyes, waved one last time to Copia, the man he loved so much, and was so reluctant to let go even if only for a short while, akin to the struggle of setting his heartcage open, setting a red-bird free into the winter scape, hoping it would come back…

Copia lifted his hand in farewell, a sympathetic smile on his own face, and with all his might sent his thoughts to Jim to join his prayers, "Bless us all. Everyone…" 

Jim gasped at the strength and sincerity of Copia's communications and he hung out the window, waving  out in earnest, "Come back soon. Come back safe!" the preacherman prayed, "Bless us all-"

"Everyone" Copia replied in mind.

*Their toughts turned to Milagro, and Teddy, whom Jim was waiting to see if he would return in time. If Teddy did not return, Jimmy would also have a job to do, and would need to lose himself in those dark and dangerous woods to find their missing companion tonight, a risk that very well could cost his life..*. 

And so with their final farewells wished and blessed, knowing not when they would be together again, Mari Lwyd and The Cardinal Copia departed from The Abbey.

 Emmanuel made merry with his friends once more, the feasting renewed and so abundant that Emmanuel ate four helpings on twice his usual number of plates, and not a one sent back, as no one there was in need of it.

 Jim kept vigil at the window, looking out at the dotted snow and tree-line for Teddy, at the entrance to the road for the return of Copia, and the heavens on the horizon for Milagro to come home…

Johan departed  fast into the night, bolstered up on the sustenance of the good fortune he had, and hoped, would follow him, and in his wolf shape, so white and so quick, unspotted by Jim or other scouting eyes, and in direct insubordination of Emmanuel’s orders, took off into the dark winter woods in search of his missing friend,

 "I am coming Teddy, whether you want me to or not. I am coming..."