Date: Tue, 1 Apr 2003 21:42:26 -0800 (PST) From: Liam Barnes Subject: The Awakening: Chapter 8 This is a work of fiction involving the relationship of two young men ( late teens to mid twenties), both physical and emotional. If you are made uncomfortable by such subjects as gay sex, magic and the supernatural, then please stop reading now. Likewise, if you are below the age of 18, please stop here. This story uses elements from White Wolf's World of Darkness series of games. Mage: The Ascension, Magadon Pharmaceutical, PsychDiv, Verbena, Cult of Ecstasy, Freak Legions, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Pentex, The Traditions, The Technocracy and similar elements are copyrighted by White Wolf Game Studio. This work of fiction is not a challenge to existing copyrighted materials, and no profit is gained by its publication. Kate Sanders, Aaron Barry, and Stefan are the intellectual property of Don Bassingwaite and White Wolf Fiction. For a more in depth treatment of these characters, and a great read, pick up a copy of SUCH PAIN from Harper Collins. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated; flamers and hate mail will be ignored. Write me at PaganGamer@yahoo.com with Awakening in the subject heading. ** I have also published this and the previous chapters in an MS Word format on the Gay_Fantasy_Fiction group at Yahoo Groups. I have started placing artwork depicting scenes and characters from the story there as well. Give it a look, or upload your own Sci-Fi / Fantasy stories. It's totally free. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gay_Fantasy_Fiction/ ** The Awakening By Liam Barnes 8 The Calm Before May 23rd, 2002 1:30 p.m. Mike's Home for Youths, Castro District, San Francisco Stefan opened a white painted door, revealing a small room with a full-sized bed and a small dresser. A solitary window looked out onto the back courtyard, covered only by a thin beige curtain. Stepping inside he swept a hand dramatically towards the room's interior as Marcus and Andrew followed behind him. "Here it is; the bridal suite." His hands on his hips, Marcus gave the room the once over, and said, "No, sir. I didn't like it." Stefan punched him in the shoulder. "To bad, fuckhead! It's all you get." He gave the Cultist a broad smile. Andrew sat down on the bed, bouncing a few times. The springs squeaked noisily as he did. "Yea! It'll be like a rendezvous in a seedy motel. I'll be the innocent school boy, and you'll be the dirty old man!" Grinning roguishly, Marcus leapt astride Andrew, knocking the blonde to the mattress. Holding his arms down, the dark headed youth shook his eyebrows and said, "Do I get to dress you in one of those cute catholic school uniforms?" "Oh, daddy!" Stefan rolled his eyes and coughed. "Okay, now. Remember, I have a house full of teenage boys. The last thing I need is you two starting something. Please soundproof the room before carrying on." Marcus groaned and rolled off of Andrew, laying on his back and sticking his tongue out at the Euthanatos. "Spoil sport! Whatever happened to the free spirited young man I knew?" "Bitch, my ass has never been free, except for two people. And you ain't one of them." "Yeah, it did take me two weeks to get over what you gave me the last time," Marcus said as he put his arms behind his head. Stefan threateningly held up a fist. "You don't really want to make me use this do you?" The Cultist merely grinned. Andrew sat up, looking at Marcus with a suspicious look. "Did you two actually do it?" "Once." "Twice." The statements came out at the same time. The two mages looked at each other in surprise. Andrew glanced between the two. "So which is it?" A mischievous smile crept across his face. "Once," Marcus insisted. "Uh uh, twice." Stefan gave a secretive smile. "No," Marcus insisted, sitting up. "It was right after we first met at Pan's." "And then about a year later at the Pleasuredome." Marcus laid back down, waving a hand dismissively. "That's the Pleasuredome. It doesn't count when there are over forty involved." "Forty!" Andrew sputtered. "Over forty," Marcus corrected him. "Pleasuredomes are gathering halls for the Cult of Ecstasy," Stefan explained. "Members from the entire Tradition, as well as their guests, go there to, uh, commune. It's like a nonstop orgy slash party." "We never do anything small." "Apparently," the blonde youth stated, dumbfounded. Marcus squeezed his thigh. "Don't worry, babe. I promise to be completely faithful to you." Andrew could feel his sincerity through the spiritual link, and tried to let his worry go. Still, the thought of him having possibly dozens of other lovers was still fairly intimidating. Unconsciously, he began to chew on his lower lip. As if to reassure him, the Cultist pulled him down to his side, wrapping an arm tenderly around him. Stefan looked away awkwardly, and said, "I'm going to go get some sandwiches for you guys. Why don't you get Andrew up to speed until I get back." With that, he walked out and shut the door behind him. Marcus let out a long sigh. "Back to work." He stood up, pulled out an incense stick out of a pocket along with a lighter. "Where were you hiding that at?" Andrew asked with a smile. "Wouldn't you like to know," the other responded with a raised eyebrow and roguish grin. He lit the stick and began to way it about the walls, chanting in some Hindi. After a few minutes of this, he stopped and placed the still smoldering incense into a mug sitting atop the dresser. "There, now nothing said or done in here will leave the room." "So we're stuck here?" "Naw, it only effects sounds and small stuff, like smells and such." He pulled out a cloth pouch and pipe. "Voila!" "Smoking pot," Andrew stated flatly, but with a bemused smirk. "That's what you're going to teach me?" Marcus dropped down next to the other mage. "Not this time, sorry." He took a pinch of some powder in the bag, and packed it into the end of the metal pipe. Using the lighter, he got the mixture smoldering and took a deep draw from it. He blew out reddish smoke with a sigh. "This is a blend of several herbs that help to induce visions. All perfectly legal, too." "It's not going to hurt me, is it?" Marcus laughed. "I will never do anything that would hurt you." He felt a twinge of guilt from Andrew. Not quite sure of why, he looked over at the youth. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," he replied, trying to cover it with a smile. Marcus could tell he was hiding something, but didn't want to press him further. That was the second time in the last hour that Andrew had reacted strangely. He tried to put the questions in the back of his mind until later. "Okay, then. I am going to take a hit on this pipe, then blow the smoke into your mouth. You need to breathe in as I do, then breathe back into me." "Kinky!" Marcus smirked at him. "I'm serious here. But if you really want to see some kinky stuff I can do with smoke, I'll show you later." The blonde youth leaned back with a wary expression. "Uhuh." The Cultist took a deep draw from the pipe and placed his lips gently on Andrew's. Opening his mouth, Andrew slowly drew in a breath of the smoke into his lungs. With a whoosh, he blew back into Marcus' mouth. Almost instantly, he began to feel light headed and relaxed. Soon, he was on his back, looking up at the ceiling, not quite sure how he had gotten there. Marcus was laughing next to him, but he really didn't mind; he enjoyed the sound of his laughter. The smoke was forming hazy patterns in the air above them, and if he looked hard enough, Andrew could swear that he saw images within there motions. "Okay, now just relax. Let your mind focus only on what I say. Let the feeling flow through you. I'm going to narrate and the smoke and your own mind will help for the pictures." Andrew was flying. Marcus could have told him to squawk like a chicken and he would have. "Sure," he mumbled. Marcus took a hit from the pipe and laid down. Blowing a thick cloud of reddish smoke into the air, he began to speak. The smoke formed images that changed as the Cultist narrated. Soon, Andrew felt as though he were actually in other locations which the other was describing. "I'm going to tell you just what the Traditions are now. Now, this won't be the full story on each one, merely a brief and somewhat stereotypical description. Each Tradition is filled with a variety of individuals, each with their own take on things, so don't assume that all members are alike, even if they appear to be at first. "The first one I'll talk about is the Akashic Brotherhood." The scene changed to the interior of a wood lined room that reminded Andrew of the training program scene from The Matrix. "Now, don't think by their name that they are all guys," the Cultist continued," There are a number of women in their group. Some have suggested that they change their name to something more gender neutral, but changes seem to come slowly to this Tradition." Two figures in martial art gi's, a young woman and an older man, appeared in the room. The two were doing what seemed to be slow moving katas. "The Akashics prize perfection; perfection of the mind, body and soul. They derive form the many Asian cultures. Think of just about every martial arts movie to come out of China and Japan, and you get a pretty good idea of what they're like. Yet, despite all their training and meditation, I always felt that they forgot the soul somewhere in their routine. It's like they assume that removing all emotions equals perfect soul or something. But hey, to each their own." Marcus waved a hand over the two mages and the scene vanished into the wafting clouds. It was soon replaced by the solemn halls of a cathedral. "Next is the Celestial Choir. There are a lot of hard feelings towards the Choir by the other Traditions. It's like a bunch of Catholics were given the ability to enforce their beliefs with magic, excuse me, miracles." "I thought that Christianity frowned on magic?" the blonde youth stated. "Well, yes and no. Not all Choristers are Christian; they just all share a belief in one Supreme Being. They view everything in the terms of song and work for the day when humanity wakes up and sings out with one voice. Their magic is based more on prayers and acts of faith." As he said this, the interior of the church changed to what looked like a scene from the exorcist. "They also are good at countering `evil spirits' and the like. Of course, their idea of evil is pretty much anything that doesn't fit nicely into their black and white world." After taking another hit on the pipe, he passed it to Andrew. The blonde accepted it and took an experimental puff. He was surprised that he didn't choke doing so. "I take it you don't care much for them?" Marcus shrugged. "I know that having something to believe in is good, and they do some good work out there that most other Traditionalists wouldn't. But they're so narrow-minded as to be almost sad. They're completely the opposite of what my Tradition stands for." He smiled as the scene changed once more. "Speaking of which, next is the Cult of Ecstasy." Suddenly, a cavernous hall appeared around them, lit by streams of sunlight piercing through clouds of incense and smoke. Moans and shouts were as thick as the air itself here, and looking around, Andrew noticed they were in the middle of an orgy of the likes that would have made Caligula jealous. Marcus reached over and grabbed the youth's hardening member. "Thought you'd like that, babe." He gave Andrew a suggestive smile. "This is the Baldor Pleasuredome. Well, one of the rooms at any rate." "One?" the other stated awestruck. "Despite our reputation, the Cult isn't just about sex. Our practices encompass anything that expands the human perceptions; touch, taste, sound, smells, pain and pleasure. By living life to its fullest and not hiding from any part of it, one can find enlightenment." "Sounds fairly simple," Andrew stated. "Yes and no," Marcus answered. "Part of our belief is to also try new things, especially if you don't think you'd like it. The C of E is all about experiences and the people who experience them. Face your fears and try something new, because you never know what or when you might reach an epiphany." The scene changed from the orgy to others of people doing various things; dancing, swimming, watching movies, eating, even one of a man with hooks in his pectorals hanging from a bar. Andrew winced at the last one, reaffirmed in his belief that maybe the Ecstatics weren't right for him. "But what about hurting or murdering others? Those are experiences, too. You don't encourage that too, do you?" "Well, no. Obviously negative actions incur negative results. The Cult has a series of rules that prevent such atrocities. We never force others to experience something, we just make suggestions." "So?" the blonde asked expectantly. "So, what?" the Cultist replied, grinning. "Well, you gave down sides to the other two Traditions. What's the down side to yours?" Marcus grimaced slightly, "Yeah, that whole thing." He let out a puff of smoke. "Sensations are funny things sometimes. If they feel bad, we avoid them, coming away with a bit of wisdom as we do. Good ones, on the other hand are addictive. I guess if there is any flaw in the Cult of Ecstasy, it is that we sometimes get sidetracked by the results of our experiences; giving into self satisfying sensations to the exclusion of the search for Ascension." There was a brief silence as the smoky images faded into the swirl of incense. Marcus cleared his throat. "The next Tradition is the Dreamspeakers." As he spoke, a darkened plateau appeared in the smoke. A small fire roared to life amid the distant sounds of chanting and drumming. "The Dreamspeakers aren't like most of the other Traditions, but rather a loose collection of shamans and spirit talkers from around the world who were lumped together by white European mages. "They are perhaps the oldest keepers of magical lore of the Traditions, except for the Verbena. They speak to the spirits of the world, enforcing the wills of the old gods and generally making sure that the world stays spiritually healthy. Needless to say, most of these guys don't care for technology or modern civilization, seeing them as harmful to Gaia. They are also generally out of touch with the real world, passing it up for the lands of the spiritual. I guess in a way, they have been hurt more than any other Tradition by the Avatar Storm." "What is that?" "Hmm, how best to describe the Avatar Storm?" Marcus adopted a look of concentration. "Do you remember back in the summer of 1999 when all those freaky things were being reported?" "Yeah, the media said it was like a kind of Millennial panic or something." "That was what the Techies wanted to be heard. Something big happened, we think in India, something on the scale of a spiritual nuclear war. Whatever it was, it went on for about a week. The result was a massive storm in the worlds of the spirit and of the dead. In fact, from what I'm told, the storm is still raging across the underworld. Anyway, when the storm hit, the souls and Avatars of hundreds, or maybe thousands of mages were destroyed. "Now, there is a protective barrier that separates reality from the spirit worlds. We call this barrier the Gauntlet. If you want to enter the spirit world, you have to cross the Gauntlet." "Like the surface tension of water?" Andrew interrupted. "Yeah," Marcus nodded. "Well, the fragments of all those souls and Avatars are scattered across the Gauntlet, and anyone who tries to cross over ends up horribly scarred, physically and spiritually. I've even heard of mages having their Avatars destroyed while crossing the gauntlet, or being killed themselves. It's like someone dumped a whole bunch of glass splinters across the swimming pool, and anyone who jumps in gets cut up for their efforts." "Ouch!" "Yeah, ouch. Now imagine if your whole existence centered on dealing with the spirit world, and then suddenly you couldn't. "I'm going to try to be brief with the rest of the Traditions. The next one is difficult to discuss without a lot of misunderstanding, even the Cult has a lot of trouble and we have similar roots. Anyways, more than any other Tradition, the Euthanatos are feared and hated." "Isn't Stefan part of that Tradition?" the blonde you the inquired. "He definitely has this creepy vibe to him, and some other uncomfortable things about him, but he's been nice to us. And he did heal you." Marcus waved his hands in defense. "Hey babe, you're preaching to the choir on that one. Stefan is a good guy, and you don't have to convince me of that. I've known him for a while now, remember?" "So why are the Euthanatos so disliked? Does it have to do with the jokes you were making earlier? About the voodoo and all?" The Cultist shrugged his shoulder. "Yeah, it does. The Euthanatos are known as death mages. As I said, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about them. The Tradition is rooted strongly in Hinduism, primarily with reincarnation and the cycles of life and death. They seek out those who are in need of having their pain eased, or who are close to permanently destroying their souls." "Then what?" "Then they either help them, or if they can't, they kill them in hopes that their next life goes better." "Has Stefan killed before?" Andrew rolled over, looking expectantly at Marcus. He could feel a tension through the spiritual bond, and wondered if the vision he had of Stefan had showed him the faces of those he had killed. Marcus looked cautiously at the other mage. Finally, he stated flatly, "You'll have to ask Stefan that. It's not my place to talk of his past." "I'm sorry," Andrew apologized. Marcus smiled, trying to lighten up the situation. "Don't be sorry, Andrew. It's just, Stefan has had a very bad life. He lost a lot of people he loved, including his boyfriend. There is still a lot of pain inside him; although, he has gotten better at hiding it." Marcus leaned over and gave the youth a passionate kiss. Breaking it off, he smiled and stroked the other's blonde locks. Andrew smiled boyishly back at him. "Maybe I'll talk with him later. About his Tradition, I mean." "That'd probably be best," Marcus grinned roguishly. "Now let's finish this off." He took a hit off the pipe and blew it into the hazy air above them. Laying back down, the two watched as more images began to form; this time a candle lit stone room appeared. Complex lines and archaic lettering wove across the floors, mixed with multi-colored candles and sticks of incense. "Noted probably best as the arch-typical mage, the Order of Hermes is the best established Tradition. In fact, it was they who initiated the gathering of the Council and helped to formulate the current terms and concepts used by all Traditions, and maybe even the Technocracy. "The Order's magic is steeped in ritual and arcane lores. Their grimoires hold powerful spells, and secrets long forgotten by the world. Think of Gandalf and the Lord of the Rings, and just about every movie wizard. Each has their roots in the Order of Hermes." The images flashed scenes of sagacious men in dark robes waving their hands and chanting as ribbons of pure magic flashed from their hands and staves. Marcus puffed out a large cloud of smoke in front of the image. "They're also the damnedest and most arrogant sons of bitches you'll ever meet. Even the nice ones tend to have superiority complexes." The smoke reformed into a scene right out of some bad science fiction movie. Tesla generators and weird bubbling liquids coursing through glass tubes lined a sterile white room. Bizarre machines were stacked everywhere, and at the center of all the chaos sat a woman in a white lab coat wearing high tech goggles on her face. "If there were ever an award for the most bizarre or eclectic Tradition, the Sons of Ether would win it hands down. They used to be a part of Technocracy in the 1800's, but had a falling out when the others decided they didn't like science being a matter of opinion." "I don't get it," Andrew confessed. "Let's just say that the Etherites have a very loose definition of what passes for science. It's like every B-grade movie mad scientist were made real. I once heard of an Etherite that was working on creating a power source based on slug slime." "Eww! Talk about your `S car go.'" "I don't think I will even dignify that with a retort. Anyways, I think you can guess the problems inherent in this Tradition. Most are too busy trying to work out their own pet theories to communicate much with the outside world. " The scene melted from the warped science lab to a verdant forest. In a small clearing several men and women danced nude in a circle under the light of the moon. Their voices were raised in song and chant, calling down the powers of the Lord and Lady. "This Tradition will probably be one you can relate to, babe. Considering themselves to be caretakers of the world and of the past, the Verbena hold close to their pagan ancestors. The Tradition gains their power from life itself, be it blood, sweat, tears or herbs." Andrew thought for a moment. "That does seem to be more my style." "I'll warn you, the Verbena is not for the squeamish. They accept life in its full messy glory. I've seen some of their magick being cast, and blood tends to flow rather plentiful in them." "What, they actually have human sacrifices?" Andrew exclaimed appalled. Marcus chuckled. "Well, no. Most of the blood spilled is their own. You know, pricking fingers, self mutilation. Their magick is very primal, very ancient." "That seems to make sense to me. But I guess I will think it over. I don't have to decide soon do I?" he asked a bit worriedly. "Babe, you don't have to do anything that you don't want to. Besides, there is still one last Tradition for me to talk about." The thick woods were swept away in a cloud of incense, revealing a dimly lit room filled with computer equipment and empty junk food wrappers. A person of indeterminate gender was sitting in front of a luminescent LCD monitor, virtual realty gear draped over their body. "The last Tradition is a relatively new one to the Council, just having come over in the late `40s. The Virtual Adepts were once a major faction of the Technocracy, one strongly tied to their technological pogroms. The V.A.'s specialty is computers. It was they who discovered the Digital Web, and are its dominant rulers. Their ultra high tech computers allow them to manipulate pretty much any information contained in reality." "Um, I know I keep asking all these dumb questions, but what is the Digital Web?" "First off, Andrew, there is no such thing as a stupid question, just stupid people. And secondly, the Digital Web is the spiritual reflection of the internet." "You're shitting me." Marcus laughed. "No, seriously, almost everything has some sort of spiritual side. There are technology spirits, as well as the natural ones. Remember, it is the belief of the masses that keeps things going. And how often have you heard people give their cars or boats, Hell, even their computers personalities? The stronger the belief or emotion towards an item, place or ideal, the stronger the spiritual energies invested in it." "Wow," Andrew stated. "So, you mean I could actually enter the internet? That's so cool!" "Eventually, maybe. But I would recommend bucking up on your magickal studies first. Traveling to other realities isn't for the novice." "The other youth pouted at the Cultist's words. So much for having all of Reality at my fingertips, he thought. He took the pipe from Marcus and took a hit. His head began to buzz again from the smoke. Exhaling, he held the pipe away and looked at it. I wonder what's in this. The cloud bank of smoke was suddenly washed away along with the images as the bedroom door opened. Stefan stepped inside, waving a hand violently back and forth and making fake coughing sounds. "Fuck! When did the fog roll in?" He shut the door behind him and set a plate of sandwiches on the dresser. "Hardy har-har," Marcus intoned dryly. "I was getting Andrew caught up on all the neurotic cousins he has just inherited." "And all the drugs he's missed the last several years, too?" the Euthanatos smarted off with a grin. "That comes later," the dark haired youth retorted. He rolled over on top of Andrew giving him a deep kiss. Raising his head up, he wiggled his eyebrows and gave the blonde a roguish grin. "First I have to get him up to date on the sex part." As if to emphasize his statement, Marcus began to grind his hips into Andrew's. Andrew laughed and kissed him back. This close to Marcus, he could almost think that nothing had happened this morning; that they were back on the Funston beach beneath the cypress and willows. Then a thought hit him. He pushed the Cultist back. "Um, Marcus? What happened to Herbie's car?" Marcus blinked a couple of times. "At the beach still?" He gave a sheepish smile. "Smooth move," Stefan quipped as he hit the Cultist in the back of the head with a pillow. The dark haired youth turned towards the Euthanatos with a pleading expression. "Stef, could you call Herbie for me? Please." Though he still smiled, Stefan's eyes gained a tightness that wasn't there before. "Um, I think that since he is your landlord, and it was his car, it might be best if you told him about what happened." Marcus let out a loud groan, rolling over onto Andrew. He buried his face between Andrew's neck and the bed's thick comforter. "I don't wanna!" His voice was muffled by the bedding and Andrew's laughter. Stefan slapped the Cultist's ass. "Up and at `em." With a playful protest, he got off the bed and flashed a smile to Andrew while he walked out of the room. As the door shut, Andrew turned towards the sound of an opening window. Stefan stood looking out at the backyard, the curtains waving gently in the afternoon breeze. Andrew watched him for a moment. He seems so sad, he thought. For a brief moment, he thought he saw someone standing next to the death mage; a young man with long blonde hair reaching out to touch him. The image vanished as quickly as it had shone up. Andrew shook his head, trying to get rid of the last remnants of the herb blend's effects. "Can I ask you a question?" Stefan smiled gently, and nodded. "Shoot." "Well, why did you choose to be part of the Euthanatos?" "I guess," he began haltingly. "I guess that you could say I was born into the Tradition." Andrew gave him a weird look. "You mean your parents were mages, too?" The laugh that came out of Stefan was anything but humorous. It was a brittle sound, like glass shattering. "No, not really. It's hard to explain." "Oh," Andrew replied simply. "Are you happy with them? I mean, if you don't like a Tradition, can't you just convert or something to another one?" "It's not that simple. A Tradition isn't like a club; it's a collective of beliefs. If you don't believe in what the Tradition teaches, then you aren't going to understand their way of doing things very well." "So what, you believe in reincarnation and killing people who need to be killed?" Then, hurriedly he added, "I'm not meaning any offense by that, I'm just curious." "It's okay," Stefan replied as he sat down on the bed next to Andrew. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees. "Do I believe in reincarnation? Yes, in fact I know it to be true. I have been traveling on the Great Wheel since 1543. No, that's not quite right. It must have been more like 1580's or early 1600's when I came into being. The first one wasn't really me." "Wow, that's what, seven or eight lives." "Closer to fifteen. I never lived past twenty-eight, at least, not until now." Andrew thought back to all of the youths behind Stefan in his vision. They weren't his victims, they were his past lives. "I'm sorry. So what changed this time, if you don't mind me asking?" Stefan gave a sad smile. "I Awakened, and I had help." "Kate and Aaron?" The Euthanatos nodded. "You see, I was originally created by another Euthanatos named Saffleur, kind of as a surrogate for him. I would live the events of his life up until a point where he would have died in his life. Then, I would die for him. In that way he was able to continue living without fearing Paradox." His face tightened at the memories. "But, if he created you as a separate person, how . . ?" the blonde youth wasn't sure how to phrase his question. "How did it help him?" He laughed jaggedly. Andrew nodded. "He used his mind as the basis for me, then in each life planned out the events to perfectly match his own life." His voice grew ragged. "My parents and brother died, and when I when to my grandparents, they died. The foster family was next. I would then be forced to sell myself on the street. Several of my johns would die, mysteriously of course. Then Mike . . ." Stefan's voice trailed off as his eyes watered. "More would die, until I finally would commit suicide. Over and over again, that asshole would wipe my memory clean only to force me back into the cycle. "It finally got to the point where my reality was nothing but death. I would get these attacks were my reality was being forced upon the true one; things would decay, people would die. That was how Kate and Aaron noticed me. They helped me to escape the cycle." "What happened to Saffleur?" Andrew asked quietly. Stefan looked him in the eye. Through the tears, his shone with a cold, almost dead glint. "I killed him. When I did, I Awakened and even gained some of his memories on how to work magick. If anyone has a knowledge of reincarnation and death, it would be me." Andrew didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine the pain that Stefan must feel. To lose everyone, over and over again could only be described as Hell. He leaned over and placed an arm around the Euthanatos. He felt Stefan tense for a moment, then relax and lean back into him. "I wish I could take away the pain." Stefan smiled and said. "So do I. But I know it isn't that simple. I have to work through it on my own. To do anything else would be running away. Besides, now I can make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. I can do something to help others avoid what I went through, even if it's just getting them off the streets." Andrew finally made the connection after the Euthanatos' statement. The name of the youth home, housing former hustlers and street kids; they were all Stefan's way of helping others to better their lives and avoiding spiritual decay. Maybe the Euthanatos isn't such a bad Tradition, he thought. Then again, that Saffleur guy was also a part of the Tradition. "I think Marcus is coming back up the stairs," Stefan said, breaking Andrew's line of thought. "Why don't you get started on the sandwiches, since I'm sure you're starving by now?" The mage's enigmatic smile was back, and there was no sign of the emotional turmoil that he had been showing only moments before. Standing up, Stefan said, "I need to finish some stuff around the office." "Thanks, Stefan," Andrew stated. "For the food and for helping Marcus and me." The Euthanatos smiled warmly, Andrew thought that it may have even been a bit fondly. "No problem. Pass the favor on should you find someone else in need, that's the only requirement I ask of those I help." The youth nodded with a smile just as Marcus strode into the room. The Cultist grabbed a sandwich and attempted to swat Stefan's ass as the other made his way out the door. The mage deftly stepped out of the way and grinned teasingly at Marcus. He waved good-bye and shut the door behind him. "So," Marcus said as he plopped down on the bed. "Did you get your answers?" Andrew swallowed what was in his mouth. "Yeah, he definitely gave me some perspective." "But?" "But nothing. I'm still not sure about which Tradition I would fit in with." "How about this, once we're done figuring out what's going on, I take you to meet some more of my friends?" Andrew thought about it for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. "Good," the Cultist said. Then taking the remaining sandwich from Andrew and tossing it back onto the plate, he pulled Andrew down onto the bed. "Now then, babe, if I remember correctly, you have some catching up to do!" With that, the two fell into a passionate embrace, kissing each other deeply. For the moment, the two let the day's events fade into the background, finding peace in each other.