A Play of Light and Shadow

The Somber Starlight Roadhouse is just a couple miles north along the highway from my cemetery. While I’ve never slept in any of its rooms, I’ve eaten at its diner often, which is how I first became acquainted with its proprietor, Leon Kingfisher. Sometime after I had become a regular at his establishment, he struck up some polite conversation with me, and both of us quickly picked up on the fact that the other was initiated into the occult. I know I’ve only mentioned him a couple of times in passing in my previous stories, but I consider him a trusted contact and good friend.
After my last little adventure, I found myself needing to call upon his expertise once again. I have a custom of hiking north through Harrowick Woods and eating at the Roadhouse before heading back home, and this visit was no different. I checked the front office first though in the hopes of finding Leon, and sure enough, I found him bickering with a less-than-satisfied customer.
“Dude, these aren’t real!” the irritated man insisted, gesturing to a rack of colourful, modern dreamcatchers made with plastic beads and fake feathers.
“Read the asterisk. They’re authentic in the sense that you’re buying them from a First Nation’s merchant, which I am, not that they were made using traditional methods or materials,” Leon explained patiently. “They even come with a little card explaining their significance and how to properly use them so that it’s cultural appreciation and not appropriation.”
“I don’t give a shit about cultural appropriation, and it’s obvious you don’t either,” the customer claimed. His eyes wandered upwards, behind Leon to a traditional dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling. “How much for the real one?”
Leon turned around to confirm that the customer was asking for the one he thought he was. It was made from ancient willow branches, silent owl feathers, and polished river stones, including one set dead-center to resemble an all-seeing eye.
“The real one’s not for sale. You wouldn’t appreciate it, culturally or otherwise,” was Leon’s adamant reply. “And as there’s someone else waiting in line, if you’re not going to buy anything, I’m going to have to ask that you move along.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying any of your tacky, tourist trap crap,” the customer spat as he turned away in disdain.
“Does that mean I wouldn’t be able to interest you in a howling black moon t-shirt or hoodie?” Leon asked facetiously as the customer walked out the door. “Ah, I’ll get him next time. Hey Samantha, how are you doing?”
“Hi, Leon. Are you sure that guy didn’t know what he was trying to buy?” I asked, knowing what an effective ward that dreamcatcher was against unwanted spirits. My own spirit familiar Elam wasn’t even able to set foot in that office.
“If he did, he would have made an actual offer instead of just walking out,” he replied. “His loss. What brings you in, Samantha? You look like you’ve come on business.”
“I have. I recently had the opportunity to visit the village of Virklitch, and I was wondering if you might know anything about the entity they call the Effulgent One,” I said. “None of Artaxerxes’ old books mention it at all. If it’s not something that was known to the Ophion Occult Order, then my next guess is that it was something already endemic to the area. I was curious if you knew if your clan had ever had any contact with it before Sombermorey was founded.”
Leon’s expression turned grave, and he seemed to be debating what his next words should be.
“Did you see it?” he asked finally, his voice soft and low.
“I did. So did Eve, Lottie, and Elam,” I nodded.
“Well then, Elam’s a dead man,” he joked. “As for the rest of you, well… I think we should sit down. I need you to tell me what happened first.”
***
“And she summoned it with nothing but a prayer and a totem? You’re sure?” he asked, sitting across from me in his diner as he sipped black coffee from one of his kitsch, howling black moon mugs.
“As far as I could tell, yeah,” I replied, finishing off my omelet. “And this entity, this Effulgent One, it was strong enough to overpower Issiole’s ancient familiar Iffairea and banish her back to the Astral Plane like it was nothing. It had to be a god or Titan of some kind, and it must be serving the Virklitchen of its own will since I don’t see how they could possibly be compelling it. What really worries me though is that I saw Rosalyn Romero, the young woman who works for Thorne Tech, take some readings of it with one of those parathaumameter things that the Ophion Occult Order uses. Erich Thorne’s studying it, and probably Ivy Noir too. Maybe on their own, maybe at the behest of the Order, but I’m terrified that they want to somehow draw this thing into their conflict with Emrys. I’m not welcomed back at Virklitch at the moment, and you were the only other person I could think of who might have any idea what it is and what kind of threat it poses.”
“You saw it, but it didn’t acknowledge you? You’re sure? Not a glace, not a nod, nothing?” he asked.
“I’m sure. It went straight for Iffairea, expressed some minor annoyance at Elifey, then wandered back off. As far as it was concerned, my coven and I weren’t there,” I assured him.
“Good, good. It can see anyone it’s marked as its followers at all times, and they can see it whenever it passes through our world,” he told me. “I’ve told you before that my clan used Pendragon Hill as a lookout point, but we knew that strange magic flowed under it and considered it cursed. We never made any villages within sight of that hill, or even camps if we could help it. We had known for centuries that if someone was to climb to the summit at night, when the Veil was thin and the stars were right, they would sometimes see a spirit we named the Sky Strider wandering along the horizon. Those of us with keen Second Sight or who were undertaking a vision quest saw it more often, which led us to think that it was always there, and always watching.
“The Sky Strider always appeared to us as a distant red light that was just bright enough to illuminate the colossal, gangling body it was mounted on. There was no harm in just looking at it, unless it noticed you looking at it. Then, there was no hiding from it. It could see you, and you could see it, even when you were off the hill. Those few of us who could see it would often try to chase it down or get ahead of it to make it an offering, trying to earn its favour. Most failed or were driven mad, and a few were never heard from again.
“When the first white settlers founded Sombermorey, my clan had dealings with them, including Morgana King and her coven. That’s most likely how Issiole first learned of the spirit she would call the Effulgent One. My clan often thought of it as the guardian of that hill, so I assume Morgana needed it gone so that they could use the hill for their rituals. I can’t say for certain why Issiole was successful in earning its favour, but I do know that if it remained loyal to Issiole after her falling out with Morgana, and has remained loyal to the Virklitchen after all this time, then it can’t possibly be serving the Ophion Occult Order. That would explain Thorne and Noir’s interest in it.
“Whether or not it would be of any use against Old Rosebud, I really don’t know. But, if it was able to banish Issiole’s familiar as easily as you say, I suppose there’s a chance it could do the same for Emrys.”
“It considers Rosalyn one of its followers. I’m sure of that,” I told him. “If she can learn how to summon it, and does so when she might be in danger from Emrys, it would attack him the same way it attacked Iffairea. Seneca mentioned that there was a plan to lure Emrys into a Spell Circle, but it’s hit a couple of snags. Unleashing the Effulgent One on him probably has a better chance of working.”
“It has a better chance of backfiring too,” Leon asserted. “The Sky Strider is a powerful, primeval spirit, and it won’t appreciate being tricked into doing the Order’s dirty work. For all we know, it could side with Emrys against them.”
“I’m sure they’re aware of that, but they’re getting desperate,” I said. “They’ve had no success in getting Emrys under control these past two years. If they don’t banish him before he can break his chains, they’re up a creek. Thorne’s studying the Effulgent One for a reason, and I’m sure that reason has to do with Emrys. If he can, he’s going to draw the Effulgent One into this, no matter the risks.”
“Have you spoken to Rosalyn about this? If she does anything the Sky Strider considers to be an act of betrayal, she could be in more danger than anyone,” Leon asked.
“Not yet, no. I don’t have her personal contact information, and Thorne Tech won’t put me in touch with her,” I lamented. “Which stinks, because other than the Virklitchen themselves, she probably knows more about the Effulgent One than anybody.”
“Maybe mention it to Orville. He knows her, and they’re on friendly terms,” Leon suggested. “She needs to know what kind of danger she’s in. I’ve never met Erich personally, but I know enough about him that I wouldn’t trust him to prioritize the safety of his employees. I have met Ivy Noir, though. She stayed here a few nights a couple of years ago when she first moved out here. I’d describe her as haughty, self-assured, and not afraid to break a few eggs. Not someone I’d trust with Rosalyn’s safety, either. You make sure that she knows what she’s getting into, here. I know this whole mess with Emrys is complicated, but I wouldn’t feel right being complicit in the Order tossing their own subordinates under the bus to stop him.”
“Neither would I,” I agreed with a pensive nod, reaching for my own mug of coffee.
***
A couple of days later I was reading in the parlour at Eve’s Eden, hoping for a walk-in to fill a gap in the day’s schedule.
“I’m looking for Samantha Sumner. Is she in?” I overheard someone say in the front lobby. I immediately perked up, as I was fairly certain the voice belonged to Rosalyn. I hadn’t been expecting her, but I’d taken Leon’s advice. I let our neighbour Orville know that I was trying to get in touch with Rosalyn, making sure he knew that Erich and Ivy might be trying to get her to do something that could put her in danger. I hadn’t heard from him since, but it seemed he had managed to get a hold of her.
“Just in the parlour to your right,” our shop girl Jeanie directed her.
Seconds later, the beaded glass curtain parted aside as a young woman passed under it. Though we had only met once before, I instantly recognized her deep brown eyes and soft brown face framed by a bob of wavy dark hair. She was also dressed in the same boots, dark jeans and leather jacket she had worn on our previous encounter, eliminating any doubt from my mind that it was her.
“Rosalyn!” I said excitedly. “I’ve been trying –”
“First, I want to say that for a business that is so proudly woman-owned and led, the profusion of erotic nude artwork in this place is pretty off-putting,” she said, gesturing to one of the multiple portraits of sexualized nymphs and fairies that decorated Genevieve’s home and business.
“Yeah, I hear you, but Eve's pretty big on body and sex positivity, plus a lot were commissioned by her great aunt, so she’s pretty attached to them,” I apologized. “They were all painted by women, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t matter to me who jerks off to them,” she said with a shake of her head. “Secondly, Elifey wants me to tell you how sorry she is.”
“She’s sorry? You were nearly killed by the spirit she enraged,” I reminded her.
“She’s ten! She’s a little girl under a ludicrous amount of pressure to ensure the survival and prosperity of her village!” Rosalyn defended her. “If you want to be mad at someone, blame her grandfather for putting her up to it! But, that’s not really what I came here to talk to you about.”
She sat down across from me and handed me a folded-up piece of notebook paper.
“You’ve been wanting to know about the Effulgent One, right? The cyclops thing you saw in Virklitch?” she asked. “Since you’ve already seen it, and Erich and Ivy would like to keep you on as a consultant, I’ve been cleared to share some information with you. That sheet there is a copy of the readings I got off it.”
Raising my eyebrow curiously at her, I slowly unfolded the paper and took a look at its contents.
‘Local Ontological Stability Index (The Veil): 41.3 – 43.4 Oms (baseline is 100).
Ectoplasmic Condensates: Peaked at approximately 440 ppm (Anything above 1 ppm indicates either a nearby spectral presence or recent thaumaturgical activity).
Psionic Emanations peaked at approximately 93 kilothaums in the ‘blue-violet’ spectrum. One thaum is the minimum required for any noticeable paranormal activity. Blue psionic emanations manipulate particles and forces, and violet emanations suspend or alter natural laws.
No Empyrean or Chthonic astral signature was detected. Astral signature was black.’
“This doesn’t really tell me anything other than that it’s a very powerful and very big spectral creature, which I already knew,” I said flatly.
“It tells us that it interacts with the Physical Plane the same way any other ghost or god does; through the panpsychic force shared across both our planes,” she asserted. “It’s the last part that’s the most concerning. It seems that it’s of neither Heaven nor Hell. It’s…”
“It’s like Emrys,” I finished for her. “His astral signature is black too, because he’s not from the Astral Plane at all. He’s from outside our reality altogether, and so is the Effulgent One. That thing we saw, it’s an avatar as much as Emrys is. An avatar of something outside our universe. This pseudoscientific jargon here is worthless because it’s only describing the finger puppet that the Effulgent One is using to interact with our world. We have no idea what it actually is or what it’s actually capable of. We can’t risk getting involved with it.”
“I’m already involved with it!” she shouted, straining to contain the fear and frustration in her voice.  “You know that. That’s why you wanted to talk to me, right?”
“I just wanted to be sure you knew what kind of danger you might be in,” I said softly, trying my best to calm her. “Please tell me Erich and Ivy aren’t planning to try to sic this thing on Emrys.”
“They want me to try to convince the Virklitchen to ask it for its help,” she admitted with a hint of embarrassment. “You saw what happened. Elifey invoked its protection against a malicious spirit, and it came immediately.”
“Yes, against a spirit that was clearly nothing to it!” I reminded her. “Emrys would be a lot closer to picking on someone its own size, and that’s assuming it can be convinced to attack Emrys in the first place. Unless Emrys was a direct threat to the Virklitchen, I don’t see why it should care who the Ophion Occult Orders considers an enemy.”
“Ivy’s thinking is that since they’re both avatars of Extra-universal entities, maybe our world isn’t big enough for the both of them,” Rosalyn explained. “But it’s only one option the Order’s considering. For what it’s worth, I don’t expect much to come of it. The real reason I came down here in person is that I’d like you to give me a reading.”
“You want a reading? From me?” I asked incredulously.
“Please. All Erich’s parathaumameter can tell me is that there’s a streak of black in my astral signature now, and I don’t know what that means,” she said.
“It’s very faint. I didn’t even notice it in you until I saw it in the Virklitchen,” I added, sighing slightly as I considered her request. “Hold out your hands, please.”
She did as I asked, and I touched my fingertips to hers. Closing my eyes and breathing in deeply, I put all my focus on my clairvoyance and allowed her vibrations to flow through me without resistance.
“It’s aware of you, as you are of it, though I feel that the connection is still very weak. It could probably still be broken, if you wanted,” I told her. A gave her a few seconds to react to this idea, and when she didn’t respond, I didn’t press it. “I can’t sense much through the connection, so little of its attention is on you, but it definitely feels ancient and alien to me. I wouldn’t even feel comfortable describing it as benevolent, malevolent, or apathetic. It will do as it wills, and I cannot foresee how it will react to anything. When it saved you, it wasn’t obeying Elifey. Her prayers simply helped to draw its focus to the situation. That’s all anyone could ever hope to accomplish; draw its attention. It’s beyond any of our abilities to coerce or command. I don’t know why it’s in our world, or why it’s guarding the Virklitchen, and I have no idea how it would react to Emrys. I’m sorry.”
“It’s here now, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. “Not in this room, obviously. I mean, in our world. In Harrowick County. I can feel it when it is, kind of like how someone with arthritis knows when it’s going to rain. If I look out towards where I feel it is, sometimes I can see its light on the horizon.”
“I… I’m sorry. I can’t tell where it is,” I confessed.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t be able to, any more than I’d be able to sense that glade out in Harrowick Woods you love so much,” she said with a resigned sigh. “What does it mean for me, that I’m bound to this thing now? That my soul has a streak of black in it?”
“Well, based on what I’ve read about Emrys – and keep in mind, all that information comes from the Ophion Occult Order and is not necessarily accurate – it could be a soul flayer,” I answered honestly. “It could use the connection between you to separate your consciousness from your physical and astral bodies and draw it into its own reality, or its own being. I know the term ‘soul flaying’ doesn’t sound very appealing, but… I think it could possibly be a form of Nirvana. You’d be free from Samsara, from both the Physical and Astral Planes, from Karma and the whims of lesser gods, and even become one with God with a capital G. Just, not the God of our reality. I think that’s how Emrys views it, at least, and maybe the Effulgent One does too. What do the Virklitchen believe awaits them after death?”
“They… believe in transcendence, yeah. That the Effulgent One watches over them in death and in life, and that when he deems them ready and worthy, it calls them to dwell with it in its own realm,” she replied, her tone sounding more wary than exhilarated by the prospect.
“I realize the ultimate fate of your eternal soul can be a pretty unsettling subject to contemplate,” I sympathized with her. “My advice to you then is… don’t. Enlightenment is a lot like falling asleep, ironically enough. You can’t do it if you’re trying too hard, and no one ever achieved Nirvana by hating life and trying to escape it as quickly as possible. When you know, or believe beyond all doubt, that there’s an afterlife, that gnosis can impact you in profound ways, both positive and negative. But achieving Nirvana takes wisdom, and wisdom comes from experience. That’s why you should live your life as Humanistically as possible. Spend it exactly as you would if you thought it was the only life you would ever have. Do work that matters to you, bring Tim Bits to Elifey and pretend she’s the little sister you never had, make love to that guy I saw you flirting with in the dining hall. Watch Autumn leaves fluttering to thItalice ground in a cemetery, and magnolia blossoms blooming in Spring. Wander through tranquil woods, gaze out upon serene waters, admire anything and everything you consider beautiful and good and just breathe. Your focus should be on experiencing life while you have the chance. You’ll have all eternity to worry about what comes after.”
“That’s honestly pretty good advice,” she sighed with a somewhat forced smile. “I’ll try to keep it in mind. Thank you, Samantha.”
“You’re welcome,” I smiled back. I began to draw my hands back, but stopped when I noticed a circular tattoo on her wrist. “Is that… a Virklitchen tattoo?”
“Oh… yeah,” she answered softly. “Elifey talked me into it after Iffairea attacked me. She said it was part of the covenant that Issiole made with the Effulgent One. Erich calls it an ‘apotropaic semiotic icon’. It’s supposed to make it easier for other spirits to recognize that streak of black in my soul as being the mark of the Effulgent One so that they know I’m under its protection and that they should stay clear. Kind of like…”
“Like a dreamcatcher,” I finished her sentence once again. “You should be honoured they shared this with you. I know from experience that wards like this are too valuable to sell.”
“That’s good to know,” she said with a sage nod. “Though maybe you should avoid saying that sort of thing within earshot of your little New Age gift shop.”
Category:The Vesper's Bell