“Oh, I’m not teaching you about those. You can find someone else to do that. We have far more important things to do. I merely didn’t want you blowing yourself or someone else up before we got finished with those aforementioned important things. Are you ready to pay attention?”
Kellan gave the wizard a baleful expression as he gingerly seated himself in the opposing chair. “I have been paying attention, Oren.”
“Oh really, then you wouldn’t mind stating the First Law of Sympathetic Creation.”
“That which can be believed can be created. That which is believed by many is created in direct proportion to the intensity of such belief.”
Merlin blinked. “Good. And the inverse corollary to the first law?”
“That which is disbelieved can be uncreated. That which is believed by none will cease to exist.”
The Wizard leaned forward and squinted at Kellan whose eyes glowed slightly. The young Sentinel seemed to barely be paying attention as he continued to probe tender ribs while channeling healing energies.
“Very good. And the second law?”
“Fine,” said Kellan in exasperation then continued, “The second law of Sympathetic Creation states that all creative acts can themselves cause spontaneous creation.”
“Perfect. And how have you seen this law express itself in your life so far. What are its implications?”
“Well,” began Kellan as he stared up at the ceiling, “in the broadest sense, any creative work could be the result of the artist subconsciously writing or painting about something that already exists. I experienced this with Micah in the workroom when he was training me, and joked with him about us using The Force. The existence of Ordered and Chaotic energies could have influenced George Lucas to write Star Wars.”
“Just so, Kellan,” said Merlin smiling.
“Yeah, but what would have influenced Lucas to screw it up. I mean Han totally shot first.”
“Kellan, that really isn’t important.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” yelled Kellan, “It is incredibly important. Han Solo is a rough and tumble smuggler. He’s not going to wait until some douchebag ventilates him with a blaster. Even if that were true, which it is decidedly not, Greedo would never have survived as a bounty hunter five minutes if he couldn’t hit a non-moving target positioned three feet away across a cantina table.”
“Kellan.”
“I’m just sayin’ Han shot first.”
“Fine. Han shot first. Perhaps an example closer to home.”
Kellan shrugged, “Nothing springs to mind.”
“Really,” began Merlin, “what about the wizard you saw at Navy Pier in Chicago. The island where you were given Solomon’s Seal. Or maybe, Lucifer mocking you for thinking a fallen angel might be in the coin he gave you.”
Kellan whistled softly, “To start with, that is a creepily large amount of info you have on my life. Setting that aside for the moment, I never really thought about it, but you’re right. It does seem like all three of those situations referenced stuff from those books Juliet likes. What were they again? Oh, yeah, The—”
“Stop,” said Merlin with a raised hand and Kellan arched an eyebrow as the wizard continued. “I’ve learned the hard way, that it is generally not good to be too explicit about these kinds of things. Specifically, calling out these nexuses between artistic works and reality can have some rather unfortunate ramifications. Think of it like something you see out of the corner of your eye, but at which you should never stare directly.”
Kellan gave Merlin a pinched expression, “But I just referenced Han Solo and Star Wars by name and you didn’t bat an eye.”
“And have you run into Mr. Solo or any Jedi recently?”
“Well, no, unless you count Dragon Con.”
“Then it’s fine. It is those nexuses in your personal experience that you should never give voice to. Were I talking to Luke Skywalker and he began describing a situation where he saw an incredibly powerful but annoying man who could bend the foundational laws of creation to his will, I’d advise him not to call out your name.”
Kellan nodded, his face brightening with a smile, “Ok, fair point. I think I get it, while not really understanding it in the slightest.”
“Excellent,” said Merlin, “glad we got that out of the way. Now please harken back to the first law and apply it and its corollary to the Mantels.”
Kellan looked up. “Ok, but while I find that first law kind of interesting, I’m still not sure I buy it.” Merlin made to speak but Kellan waved away his objection. “However…for the sake of argument, fine. All of creation is based on belief. Every sentient being is invested with the ability to channel that belief into creation. Your everyday mortal, has a tiny fraction of this investiture so small they never notice it, but when enough of them get together and believe a thing, whammo, it can happen.”
“As with the Mantel of Revenge, Váli?”
Kellan began to warm to his explanation and pointed to Merlin. “Yes, exactly. Lot’s of people believe in revenge, but that doesn’t make it manifest as a personification of that belief.”
“Until…” prompted Merlin.
“Until, some assholes harness all that belief in a ritual to bring the Mantel to life.”
“No.”
“No? What do you mean, no? I saw them do it. Well, I would have seen them do it if Jarvis hadn’t gotten me killed.”
“Mantels are not brought to life. They are not alive. They are merely the personification of that aggregated power. They must merge in a symbiotic relationship with their host.”
Kellan nodded thoughtfully. “So, Váli would have merged with that dick Caleb and the two would have become the personification of Revenge.”
“Yes,” said Merlin nodding, “just as the Mantel of War, Ares, merged with the man, Trajan.”
The young Sentinel leaned back into his chair and threw one leg over the well padded leather arm. “How many of these Mantels are there?”
“How many do you think there are?”
“Dude, I really hate when you do that.” Merlin simply smiled and Kellan frowned as he continued, “Fine, I suppose there is no set number, but the bar for these things manifesting must be pretty damn high or we’d be bumping into mantel-people all over the place.”
“Quite true.”
“So,” began Kellan thoughtfully, “how many do you know about?”
Merlin shrugged, “A few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Five, but I have only met two myself, even as you have.”
“Ares and Váli? Revenge never made it all the way through. He doesn’t count. Who are the two you met and who are the other two?”
“I’ve met both Ares and Gaia.”
Kellan’s eyes widened. “Gaia? As in earth Gaia? What can she do? She is a she right?”
Merlin chuckled. “She is most definitely a she and is widely believed to be the most powerful Mantel alive.”
“More powerful than me?”
“Definitely.” Merlin raised a cautionary finger. “Kellan. Do. Not. Make Gaia angry. I made her angry once and it did not go well for me.”
Kellan puffed air through his lips dismissively, “I don’t make people angry. People love me. I am charming. I am especially charming to women.”
“Let’s hope so, my dashing young Sentinel, because we will be going to see her shortly.”
“Really? Why? How? When? Wait, strike all those questions. First, tell me about the last two Mantels.”
“No.”
“No? Why no?”
“One has died and the other is not one that I trust you to meet so will not let you know of her existence.”
“A Mantel died?”
“Faded would be a more apt description. Remember the corollary to the first law. People stopped believing and the Mantel faded.”
“Why not tell me who he was?”
“I have my reasons, Kellan, and if all goes as I think it might, yo
u will know why before too long.”
“I hate your cryptic wizard’y bullshit, Oren. I pulled you out of a tree and saved your from a Prince of Hell. Spill it.”
Merlin laughed despite himself. “No, Kellan. I will not spill it, but I am prepared to settle our debt in ways that will actually help you rather than get you into more trouble.”
“And Gaia is part of that?”
“She is.”
Kellan looked less than impressed. “What exactly can the earth mother do for me, keep my houseplants from dying?”
Merlin squinted, trying to decide if the Sentinel was serious, then stared with incredulity once he’d decided that Kellan was. “Kellan, Gaia, is connected to all things of the earth. Everything. Anything that is living, ever was living, or never lived. Every tree, plant, and stone is hers. The very magnetic field around the earth, she can bend to her will.”
Kellan shrugged, “Whatever, seems very theoretical to me.”
“You can’t be serious, Kellan. Even her implicit power dwarfs that of most Mantels. You want her as a close friend, trust me on this. Or if you do not trust me alone, ask Ah’Anon.”
“What’s he got to do with it?”
“Ah’Anon and Gaia are quite good friends.”
“Didn’t seem to save him from needing special sun screen to not burst into flames.”
Merlin shook his head sighing, “She’s the Mantel of earth, not the sun,”
“Ahh Ha!” Kellan said pointing and caused Merlin to jump. “So there’s a Mantel of the Sun, is that the one that died or the one you think would get me in trouble? Is it called Ra?”
Merlin winced, “Neither, Kellan. There is no Mantel of the Sun as far as I know and stop trying to wheedle it out of me. I am just saying that Ah’Anon’s need for protection from the sun has nothing to do with his relationship to Gaia.”
“Well, if she can’t even do that, I don’t see what good she is to him then.”
“Really. What if by her implicit acquiesce, Ah’Anon is not bound by certain aspects of earth? What if, she gifted him with the ability to simply ignore all effects of gravity.”
Kellan’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, what? Are you telling me, that bastard vampire can fly because he’s bosom buddies with Gaia? I have never been able to fly, Oren.”
“I know. Everyone who knows you or even knows of you, knows this, Kellan. It has become something of a joke.”
Kellan ignored him. “That vampire told me it took him centuries to acquire the ability. He lied to me. Oh, he’s gonna get it. Smarmy ancient Egyptian bastard.”
“He didn’t lie, Kellan. He misdirected. It did take him centuries to acquire flight, because it took him centuries to meet and befriend Gaia.”
Kellan gave the old wizard a flat expression, “That’s some parsing bullshit right there, Oren. A point I will make directly with Ah’Anon when I manifest a tiny little sun in his room to give him a genuine super Sentinel VampiraTan.”
Merlin closed his eyes and spoke softly, “I can’t even being to describe how bad an idea that is, Kellan, but since it does not immediately affect what we need to do together, I will refrain from any attempts to dissuade you. Through the grace of your undeserved eidetic memory, you’ve actually managed to retain the salient points of my lesson, so I am prepared to make introductions.”
“To?” asked Kellan.
“Why Gaia of course,”
“Oh, cool, but we’re not going anywhere right now, Oren.”
“Kellan, it really is rather urgent that we gain Gaia’s support and I don’t know of anything that should take precedence.”
“Well, I do. And we’re not going anywhere until I rectify this situation.”
Merlin stared at the young Sentinel, genuinely confused. “Rectify what situation, exactly?”
Kellan, stood, and made a sweeping gesture to the fireplace. “We have an amazing, crackling fire, and you, Oren, have never had a S’more.”
Chapter 10
A God of Earth
Kellan licked the last traces of melted marshmallow off his fingers and smiled contentedly. He looked over at Merlin who had just popped the last bit of chocolate covered graham cracker in his mouth.
“Truth be told, I’m surprised that I had never heard of,” he paused slightly, “s’mores.”
Kellan shrugged. “It’s kind of a camping thing, at least that’s how most folks get introduced to it, then it sort of just follows you around like a taste treat the rest of your life.”
“Well, I appreciate your having made that introduction,” Merlin said with a nod. “Even if you did violate your own rules to do so.”
Kellan cocked his head. “Rules? What rules did I break? I wasn’t even aware I had rules. I’m not really a rules kinda guy.”
Merlin held up the now empty Hershey’s wrapper. “You chastised me earlier for suggesting a portal and said you did not like to rely too much on your abilities for mundane matters.”
“Yeah…and?”
Merlin furrowed his brow then shook the wrapper emphatically. “You portaled back to Atlanta just to get chocolate. That seems fairly mundane.”
“Oh no,” said Kellan shaking his head. “First, I got chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers, not just chocolate. Second, if this island of yours actually had classic Hershey’s chocolate, I would have taken an Uber to get some. Third, Oren, there is nothing mundane about S’mores.”
The old wizard barked a short laugh, “Fair point, Kellan. Fair point, indeed.”
“So,” began the young Sentinel while affecting his most professional voice. “Are we off to see Mother Nature now? How do we get there? I can’t make very accurate portals to places I’ve never been, so I guess you get to turn us both into that cloud of ravens or whatever.”
“No, Kellan, neither of us will be affecting transport to Gaia. She is a goddess and thus has her own pocket universe. She must reach out to us. Oh, and Kellan…”
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t call her ‘Mother Nature,’ she really hates that.”
Kellan frowned. “Why on earth would she hate that. Has she never seen Year Without A Santa Claus? Mother Nature was awesome in that.”
“Yes, she has seen that and that’s why she hates the name. Rankin and Bass must have tapped into her incarnation somehow as inspiration, because their Mother Nature puppet looked just enough like Gaia to really make her angry.”
Kellan closed his eyes a moment as the classic Christmas show played through his mind with perfectly clarity. “So she’s short, plump, with a long nose and a small bird nesting in her green hat?”
“No,” said Merlin with a slight shudder, “but trust me, there is enough similarity that you do not want to bring it up.”
“Gotcha, ixnay on the Othermay Aturenay. So, back to my original question, how do we let Gaia know we’d like entree to her pocket universe?”
“Like this,” said Merlin as he held up a small object. Kellan squinted but couldn’t make it out. “It’s a seed,” said the wizard in answer to his unasked question. Merlin placed the small seed in the center of the keeping room between his and Kellan’s chairs. He tapped it with one finger and said, “Gaia.” Tapped it again. “Gaia.” A third time he tapped it and glanced at Kellan who just nodded. “Gaia!”
The seed split open soundlessly and a tiny tendril slipped out. The vine slid along the floor rapidly changing direction while continuing to elongate. Within seconds Kellan could see it had formed a large circle with an intricate glyph at its center. The vine stopped moving but nothing overt happened. “Is it done?” asked Kellan. “What does that glyph spell?”
Merlin stood while indicating the young Sentinel should do the same. “Glyphs don’t really spell things as much as they represent them. That glyph represents the earth mother in her totality.” The wizard reached out a welcoming hand to Kellan. “It is likely a single-use circle, so best we step in it together. Ready yourself, the experience can be a bit—jarring.”
Kell
an accepted the offered hand and nodded, then mirrored Merlin’s movement as the two stepped into the circle.
Kellan fell forward, knees folding beneath him. He braced himself with both hands flat on the ground and took several deep breaths.
“Sorry,” said Merlin apologetically while resting a hand on the Sentinel’s shoulder. “I should have been more precise in my warning to you. Circle travel takes some getting used to.”
I’m gonna puke, thought Kellan, I’m gonna puke all over Gaia’s lawn. That should make for a good first impression. He swallowed several times and looked up at Merlin, eyes watering and said, “I imagine it takes more than a bit to get used to that. Oh I feel sick. That’s like having your insides twisted up and then your entire body stretched out on a taffy machine.”
“Yes,” said Merlin, “I suppose it does at that. Rowling really did convey the general sense of disapparation well.”
Kellan regained his feet and, after a couple more steadying breaths, glanced over at Merlin and said, “Yeah, good ol’ JK.” The young Sentinel looked around, whistled softly, then added, “We aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
Merlin laughed, “That is most certainly true, Kellan. Just rest here a moment while we wait for our escort.” Kellan didn’t answer but rather turned in a slow circle, taking in the strange world to which he and Merlin had been transported. They appeared to be in a large meadow of a green so verdant that it appeared to glow. The ground had gentle swells to it that seemed incongruous to any typography with which Kellan was familiar. In each of the ordinal directions, the land faded into misty indistinction. Directly to Kellan’s left a grassy ramp began and curled around forming a tight spiral into the sky. The Sentinel knelt beside it and ran his fingers along the ground. He looked up to try and follow the spiral with his eyes, but it disappeared into cloud cover far above.
“It feels almost like the grass of a putting green,” said Kellan. “Is it alive?”
“Oh yes,” said Merlin with a chuckle, “everything here is alive. In fact, if you see something that doesn’t look alive, or shouldn’t be alive, it still is.”
“Really? What about”
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