Ferro Comitante

                                      CAELUMXINFERNUM

“I’ve seen weirder. I’ve seen fae cursed to sneeze up fully buttered and toasted slices of bread, that was weird.”

There was a strange sense of trust, Wulfstan was comfortable around this man and he motioned towards the kitchen.

“I can always use a drink.” Dean stood, motioning for Wulfstan to take the lead. “As painful as sneezing toast sounds, this is still... I don’t know man, just strange. And I’m used to some pretty weird shit.”

“They’re not welcome here,” she said, and it would’ve sounded like sass except she was deadly serious. “This land belongs to old gods, and they don’t take kindly to strangers. In fact, you might wanna tone it down a bit.” She shot him a look that said she could feel the power he was emanating. “It’s Navajo land. Spider Woman runs the show here, and her security is top notch.

In the midst of his anger, though, Dean felt a stab of pity. Rachel was giving up a lot--granted, with people who practically hated her existence--to help keep him safe. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pressed a kiss into her temple. “You’re better off without those dicks.”

Weird.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” she said quietly, and she sounded so very small. “I was just so scared that they’d find you. That’s all I was thinking about, and I just…” There was no explanation that could make this right. She was totally in the wrong here and there was no saving it.

“Look, I get it. And you didn’t know what they were, and your heart was in the right place. But if we get out of this alive, you’re not doing laundry or shit--you’re reading everything the bunker has on angels. Which is a solid three months worth of reading, at least.”

“Okay, okay.” She exhaled a breath and concentrated on that house, held it like a fixed point in her mind. The line twisted, gaining a different texture, although she wasn’t sure if Dean could tell–it was more of a feeling than something you could see. A little while later and something tugged behind her navel. That’s our stop. 

She hesitantly took Dean’s hand and stepped to the side, her circle pushing against the rubbery edge of the line until they popped out into a quiet desert under a sky so black it was almost unreal. 

“This way,” she said quietly, walking from memory toward a small pile of stones. “It’s gonna be about a mile. Closest I could get us.” 

Stepping out onto the desert, Dean’s magic immediately flared to suppress their presence--it’s not hidden, per se--but it is harder to find. they’d have to be close to find them and need to look harder to sense them--but in return, Dean would be able to sense them too.

His cheeks pinkened, then he looked apologetic, lips twisting ans nose scrunching, “I… not hvat - what - you expect… sorry.”

He still fidgeted the same, the wolf cloak was heavy on him, but it he felt naked without it… still… He pulled it off, draping it on the back of the chair, seeming much smaller now.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy. You and I--we’ve seen each other worse off.” Or at least, Hera had seen him worse off. Dean was a little lacking in the support position, but he could make up for it now.

His hair and beard are long, his clothes cleaned and polished chainmail, leather armor, boots, and the wolf cloak with lovely clean fur.

“There some sort of con I don’t know about? Or is this just some sort of... yeah, I got nothing.”

Demons, ghosts, and souls are all very closely related. You could think of them as being different points on the same spectrum, something like light waves and gamma rays on the electromagnetic spectrum. 

There are countless points on this soul energy spectrum and as a result many types of spirits. However there are three major categories; the demons, souls, and ghosts.

Demons are created when a soul is taken to Hell and broken, through a series of tortures or corruptions. Once broken this soul is combined through magic with one of the original inhabitants of hell, the native entities. If compatible these two will meld together forming the being known as a demon. The torture in Hell is not a “punishment” for evil deeds, rather it is a means to an end.

Ghosts are mostly created when a soul if forcefully ejected from a physical body and somehow escapes the grasp of Heaven or Hell. There are many types from echos to poltergeists and they range in power and danger levels from individual to individual.