The Long Road to Damascus (Mage: The Ascension)

[Ford Prefect]

Two lines jumped out at me: 'they can tell I'm not prey', which is appropriate because, you know, mage. And of course 'I pulled out the MAC-10'. Fucking wereshark indeed.

[Imperial Overlord]

Fucking wereshark indeed.

Got that right

[Imperial Overlord]

I tensed. "And if I say no to that?"

"Then you say no and go on your way," said the woman. "It would not be wise, but it is your choice to make. I would hope you would do otherwise." She was silent for a moment. "If it sets your mind at ease, if I wanted to harm you I could have done so before I revealed myself."

"There's more types of harm than just the physical."

"Very true," she said. "I can help you with that as well."

"You aren't the first to make this offer."

"I see," she said. "Your previous experiences were negative, I take it?"

"You could say that."

"If I might ask, how did you part from your former mentor?"

"I killed the lying, manipulative, mind controlling son of a bitch."

"Good," she said. "The world needs less of that kind. My offer stands. You are not without your defences and you can walk away if you wish."

"I'll think about it."

"I hope you will take me up on it." She reached into her pocket. I tensed. She came out with a silver ball point pen and a white card. She wrote on the card and handed it to me. "If you decide to accept, or just want to talk, please contact me."

There was an address and phone number on the card along with a name. Raji. "I will consider it."

We parted ways and I returned to the modest house I rented. American dollars went far in this place. The cops in this city were even more corrupt and incompetent than the ones back home and the dead men were only technically human. No one would bother with much of an investigation. What a fucked up world we live in. Why did anyone bother trying to make this sewer a better place? Why did I?

I don't know. I don't even know why I did what I did. No, that's a lie. 'Nam woke the killer lying dormant inside of me. It was as easy and natural as breathing. I wasn't morally dead, although 'Nam tried to kill that part of me as well. And ever since the day I almost died, there was something else about my life. Uncle Dom and the Greek pantheon were part of that, but not it. I don't have the words or background to express it.

Nilsen probably did, but all he wanted was to promote a pawn to a knight in his game of chess. I was a killer, but not like that. Not like him.

I looked at the card. Nilsen hadn't been able to hold me or make me like him. I had broken from his control and killed him. It was hard to pull that shit on me now and I was aware in a way I simply hadn't been, like I had woken up from a deep sleep and after a long period of drowsiness I was finally, really awake.

I put the card down by my bedside and went to sleep. Hecate was waiting. Were were standing on dirt road, surrounded by a field of yellow summer grass. Off in the distance I could see hills and mountains. She was leaning against a post, as beautiful as ever. It was night time and the crescent moon hung in the sky, but I could almost as well as if it was daylight. Behind her was an intersection where another road met the one I was standing on.

"The Goddess of the Crossroads," I whispered.

"That's right," she said. "And you are at one. You are still ignorant, but you are stronger than you were and you are no longer blind. Will you continue in your ignorance or will you seek knowledge?"

The dream ended. I may have had other dreams, but that was the only one I remembered. I awoke and it was morning. I took a shower and munched on some fruit for breakfast.

I looked at the card on the nightstand and I reached for the phone. "Hello," said a voice on the other end. It was her.

"Raji," I said. "It's your friend from last night. I would like to talk."

"Certainly," she replied. "Would you like to visit my house or would you prefer a more public venue."

"I will call upon you," I replied.

"Then I will expect you for lunch," she replied. "On one condition. I do not have lunch with nameless strangers."

"My name is John."

"Then I'll see you at eleven thirty," she replied.

"You will," I replied. "Good bye."

"God speed," she replied and hung up. I had done it. I was committed. A huge weight seemed to vanish from my shoulders.

"I was raised to be a lousy Catholic and I'm putting my faith in a Greek goddess when she says to go see the Indian witch. No wonder the world is fucked."

[Karrick]

Glad to see more of this one. If it's not going to give anything away, what's the Mage explanation for seeing Uncle Dom and the Greek gods?

[Imperial Overlord]

Glad to see more of this one. If it's not going to give anything away, what's the Mage explanation for seeing Uncle Dom and the Greek gods?

It's his Avatar trying to guide him. Yes, I know that explanation is as clear as mud. Fortunately an explanation that the main character and the layman can understand will be provided by Raji.

[haard]

You know IO, you are the reason I have a compulsion to check sdnet every time I get close to internet (about... always) just to check if theres' a new post in one of your fics. This is turning out really well, and makes me want to pick up WoD roleplaying again.

Oh, and because I'm that kind of guy:

And ever since that die I almost died,

[Imperial Overlord]

You know IO, you are the reason I have a compulsion to check sdnet every time I get close to internet (about... always) just to check if theres' a new post in one of your fics. This is turning out really well, and makes me want to pick up WoD roleplaying again.

Thank you. We have some WoD forum games being run at Librium Arcana if you want to check them out.

Oh, and because I'm that kind of guy:

And ever since that die I almost died,

Never happened. The spelling mistakes are committing suicides in droves before they ever reach my fics. Even as I type our glorious forces are driving the grammerical errors into the sea.

[Alan Bolte]

Never happened. The spelling mistakes are committing suicides in droves before they ever reach my fics. Even as I type our glorious forces are driving the grammerical errors into the sea.

Is this some sort of self parody? Because it's completely over the top.

[Imperial Overlord]

Never happened. The spelling mistakes are committing suicides in droves before they ever reach my fics. Even as I type our glorious forces are driving the grammerical errors into the sea.

Is this some sort of self parody? Because it's completely over the top.

Yes, it's self parody.

[LadyTevar]

Never happened. The spelling mistakes are committing suicides in droves before they ever reach my fics. Even as I type our glorious forces are driving the grammerical errors into the sea.

Is this some sort of self parody? Because it's completely over the top.

Yes, it's self parody.

*giggles* No, it's the Typos sneaking in the back way.

[Ford Prefect]

I laughed at his last line there.

[Imperial Overlord]

Raji's house was located outside of the city, a pleasant villa surrounded by a orchards and a garden. I drove the rental up the dirt road and parked in front of the house. As I exited the car the front door opened and Raji stepped out. "I'm glad you made it," she said. "If you would join me?"

She lead me through the house, which was well if not lavishly decorated, and to the patio at the back. An umbrella had been set up to provide shade for table. She settled into one chair and gestured for me to take the other. There was a bowl of fruit, a pitcher of water and another of lemonade, a tea pot, and two bowls of gazpacho soup. I sat down opposite her. We had a beautiful view of the garden.

"Tea," she offered, picking up the tea pot by it's handle.

"No thank you," I replied. She poured herself a cup and then added a little honey to it, swirling the spoon around in the hot tea.

"I imagine you have all sorts of questions. I'll try to provide some answers. I trust you'll forgive me if I'm a bit pedantic, because I don't know how much you have already uncovered for yourself."

"Alright," I said. "Why don't we start with what am I?" I took of spoonful of soup. It was delicious.

"You," she began, "as best as I can tell are a fledgling mage."

"Mage?"

"Wizard, sorcerer, wise man, miracle worker, shaman, witch, prophet, whatever. Mage is the generic term most of us use. You have become aware, to one extent or another, that reality is not what it appears to be? That there are powers beyond science and creatures that are not natural that walk this world?"

"Yes."

"That is the first step," she said. "Somehow you missed the second. Most mages, people like you and I, experience what is often called 'the Awakening' in a moment of stress or trauma and we realize that reality is a lie and that we can reshape it. Somehow you have Awoken to the world, but your magick remains rudimentary."

I hesitated. "I think it might be something to do with my spirit guides."

"Spirit guides?"

"Ever since I almost died, something has been talking to me. Or maybe something. They all want the same thing, the keep pushing me to go in the same direction. It or they wear different faces when they talk to me."

She smiled. "That would explain it. What makes a mage a mage is something that we call an 'Awakened Avatar'. Every type of mage defines it differently, from a piece of the subconscious to a part of the soul to a patron spirit or god. Whatever it really is, our connection to it is the basis of our ability to do magick, to reshape the world. If you've been in conflict with your Avatar, then that explains why your abilities are so poorly developed. Perhaps I can help you resolve it?"

"Not necessary," I replied. "It told me to come here."

"Ah. What, if I may ask, was the cause of your earlier conflict?"

"It wanted me to kill a lot of people."

"People for whom death might be a mercy or the world would be better off without?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "That wasn't a wild guess on your part."

"No," she said. "It wasn't. My Avatar says the same thing." She ate a spoonful of soup.

"And what do you do about it?"

"Confirm that killing them is the right thing and then, if it is, do the killing. There is much suffering and misery in this world. Those who cannot be saved from it should be giving what mercy we can, so their souls may have another chance at life without being poisoned by the suffering they are currently undergoing. Those that perpetrate such suffering, well the world and its people are better off without them."

"I sense some Hindu beliefs in there. The world is an illusion, reincarnation."

"Yes and no," she said. "Many religions contain fragments of the truth. The world is not an illusion, it is undeniably real, but for an enlightened few reality can be altered as if it were an illusion. Avatars do not cease on the death of their hosts, but return to the world to find others. So two articles of faith are not entirely false. Of course, it is not only the faith of my ancestors that holds such truths. One of the reasons that there are many types of mages in this world." She smiled. "And just so you know, I do eat beef."

"Alright," I said, digesting what she said. "Does it mean anything if my Avatar likes showing up as Greek gods?"

"Yes," she said. "It means that such icons were probably important in its past. Before I go any further, let me go back and give you some more background. There are many different types of mages. Nine orders have joined together to form the Council of the Traditions, including mine. We have the shared goals of advancing human enlightenment and well being without interfering with human freedom. My own order is a loose gathering of mages of various different backgrounds, ranging from India to Ireland, all united by certain common practices and beliefs. Much of our terminology is derived from Hindi, as a compromise, but our name comes from a different part of our order. We are called the Euthanatos."

"The Good Death," I whisper. "In Greek, no less." I can see Hecate and Hades standing at the periphery of my vision. "Tell me more."

[Ford Prefect]

I'd say that's 'fate' at work right there.

[Imperial Overlord]

After lunch we took a walk through her garden. We continued our talk. "You said something about a Council of Traditions, which wanted to preserve human freedom. Nilsen, the mage I first met, didn't think that way.

"No," she said, "not all mages are like us. This is . . . somewhat complicated. Let me try to explain from the beginning. The Sleepers, people without Awakened Avatars, do matter," she said. "Their will does shape reality on an unconscious level. If a lot of them believe our kind of magick is impossible, then it becomes harder to perform."

She pointed up at the sky. "The sun provides light and warmth to earth, regardless of your belief. Apples fall from trees. That's the way things work. Each different kind of magick has a different explanation for how the whole system of the world works and how to change things to get the results you want. Ask a Muslim and he will tell you the will of Allah is paramount. A hermetic mage might talk to you about laws of sympathy and attraction and so on.

"Around five hundred years ago various different groups of mages began to come together. Some of these mages were very ambitious. They wanted to create a utopia. They wanted to cleanse the world of everything that preyed upon man, end war and strife and suffering, and bring magick to the masses. Every man, woman, and child would benefit from the wonders of magick and a universal Awakening."

"I must have missed that," I replied.

"It was a noble goal, but their methodology was flawed. They would guide the masses, which turned out to mean they would control the world. They did succeed, mostly, at giving magick to the masses. We have far speakers and far viewers, wands of thunderous death, conveyors that allow us to fly to the air and miraculous potions that banish many diseases."

"You're fucking with me. That's technology you're talking about."

"Indeed," she replied. "And how many primitives rightly confuse technology as magick. You have been raised to believe otherwise because that's how close they are to victory. They speak of psychological domination not mind control charms, induced combustion instead of fire starting cantrips, and robots instead of golems; but it is magick nonetheless."

She was silent for a minute as I chewed my lip and thought about it. Damn, it fit Nilsen pretty good so far. "Two of the Nine Traditions are also technomancers, mages who use technological magick," Raji continued. "That is not our objection to the Technocracy. It has become tyrannical. Mankind will be subjugated and remade in the image they desire and they have reduced themselves to cogs in a machine. Benevolence was one of their starting ideals, but their power has corrupted them. They would exterminate all other mages and reduce mankind to perpetual slavery."

"Fuck. That fits Nilsen to a T. Uplift the primitive savages, no matter how badly we fuck them in the process, no matter how many of them fucking die as their country is turned into his puppet state, so they can take their appointed place in his perfect future. Fuck 'em all." I continued walking, thinking. "What about weresharks and all that shit?"

"Bygones is what we call most of them," she said. "They've mostly left the Earth for other realms as disbelief made it harder and harder for them to survive here. The ones that remain can blend in to one extent of the other. Shape changers and vampires can glide through the human and animal worlds as they see fit. They don't leave much in the way of evidence behind. They don't challenge human beliefs and humans believe deep down that there are monsters hiding in the darkness."

"Okay, I can buy that. Sure if there's mages there can be werewolves and vampires hiding around. How do they fit into the picture? I mean, do they Awaken? Do they take sides in this . . "

"Ascension War is what we call it," said Raji. "Generally they don't. Vampires go through their own kind of Awakening when they become vampires, but it's twisted, tainted. Their myths say the first vampire was cursed or marked, by who varies, and this makes sense. They're mostly focused on their own concerns. They have a kind of magick, but its shaped by their curse and they niche they occupy, that of unconscious belief. They have their own concerns, but sometimes some of them venture into our spheres of activity of visa versa.

"Changers are different. They're in some kind of relationship with great spirits. They have their own kind of narrow Awakening. I can't really explain it."

"Hmmm. So what now?"

"If you want, you become my student and I teach you all that I can. Then it's up to you."

"I think I would like that."

"Good. Do you know how to make a good curry?"

"Um no."

"Then that's the first."

"I thought you were going to teach me magick."

"I will. The first thing an apprentice needs to learn is that his master is in a much better mood if she eats well. The second thing he needs to learn is that his master doesn't much like to cook."

[Ford Prefect]

I think that's a good layman's introduction to the stuff going on in the WoD.

[Imperial Overlord]

The door opened for me because electrons dance to my will. Security cameras watching the entrance experience a slight malfunction that is more than chance. The overweight security guard in the lobby is sleeping because I made him drowsy before I even tried the door. I am a mage and the world bends to my will.

I pass the security station and head to the elevator at the end. It requires a private key, but again that is no problem for a man who can bend machinery to his will. A pass of my hand and it opens for me. I step inside. The door closes. I punch in the thirteenth floor and draw my kukri.

The floor is warded in the form of a high tech security system, impossibly advanced. Technomagic is far more reliable in a technomancer's lair than upon the streets of the city and they take full advantage of it. Three mages, including myself, have been carefully analyzing their wards for the last two weeks. A weakness has been found and for a mage who commands entropy, a weakness is just a failure waiting to happen.

The targets are confident of their security and anonymity. They are not biologists or cyberneticists, deep ocean explorers, security consultants, or mirror shade wearing agents. The follow an older paradigm than science and technology. They are the movers of money.

It sounded silly when it was first explained to me, but the reality is anything but. Men and women have worshiped countless different gods and spirits throughout human history and prehistory, but money holds sway the world over. People pray for faith in churches and temples, but they have faith that green bills and silver coins and number in ink will get them food, water, and shelter. They believe that if they have enough of it they can get whatever they wish, that the genie of the market will grant them palaces and luxuries and the love of a beautiful princess if they just have enough. People sell their bodies and souls for it, whore for it, murder for it and the do so the world over and will do so in the future. How can religion possibly compete with that kind of universal zealotry?

They are the Syndicate and they are the hidden arm of the Technocracy, the funder and gatherer of resources for the other Conventions, the knives and the manipulators in shadow. Despite how much they want to be, they are not invisible. I whisper softly as I make passes through the air. Decay and dissolution come to all things, including the best security money can buy. I bend light around myself as the door chimes open.

Their is one long hallway and it is not unguarded. Two huge men wait on the other end. The wear sunglasses and the bulges under their armpits show them to be armed. I drop the cloak of invisibility as I swing the kukri again, but I only needed it for surprise. This place resists my magick. Finishing this spell is a strain, but I manage it.

Magick embraces many possibilities, but some workings are used repeatedly and acquire names. The Hermetics call them spells, but the Traditions as a whole call them rotes. They're useful techniques passed from master to student and practitioner to practitioner, modified as necessary to be workable in another magical tradition. The one I'm casting now is of Euthanatos origin. It's called Rip the Man Body and I pour all my strength and energy into it.

The guards are still reacting to my appearance when it hits them. The patterns that make up their lives are shredded by my spell. This manifests as massive internal hemorrhaging and organ failure. They collapse like puppets with their strings cut, blood trickling from their mouths, noses, ears, eyes, and places best not mentioned.

I've been doing a good job of burning through my reserves to fuel my spells, by I have a little more extra power stored in a pair of bracelets. I'll need them. I draw my gun and screw the huge sound suppressor onto the MAC-10. I perform the first working and the bracelet on my right hands dissolves as I become as fast as a coked up weasel and tougher than a pissed off grizzly. The second dissolves as I throw up a force field to deflect incoming attacks. Kukri in my left, MAC-10 in the right and I'm through the door.

There are three of them sitting at the opposite end of a long table. They're pouring of charts and papers and oh so very surprised to see me. They're wearing very expensive suits and they're all immaculately groomed in the best eighties corporate big dog style. Too bad they can't buy me.

The MAC-10 shudders in my fist. It's quiet enough to hear the action of the bolt. Red blooms burst over the Syndicate mage on my left's shirt. He's falling back in his chair as I'm springing onto the table and running down it, my gun already swinging to the older man in the center.

He's very fast. He falls back out of his chair while jamming my gun. It's a very slick piece of work. I'm not sure if I could have managed it myself. That does leave my charging towards a pair of mages with very big knife. The woman on the right isn't so quick. She pulls something out of her pocket as I jump off the table beside her and damn near take her head off with the kukri.

Blood geysers all over me. He head sags back, her neck sliced down the bone, and she topples. Two down and one left and he's a cockroach pinned under a heat lamp. All the old Syndicate tricks aren't going to work. He's down to conventional technomagick and that's not enough, not against me.

He rolls up on the other side of the table with a gold cylinder that he points at me. Too little too goddamn late. A sun bright beam of energy hits my force field, mostly deflects away in a dazzle, a much weaker beam gives me a nasty burn in my left shoulder. I jump onto the table and toward him while throwing a Rip the Man Body at him. He jerks back and blood comes from his nose, but he's still in the fight. I don't have enough juice left to drive the spell home.

It does allow me to close the distance and that's really what I needed. I spill his guts all over the carpet and then miss slicing open his neck but do open his cheek. The follow up buries the kukri in his brain pan and it's over.

I unjam the gun and retrieve my knife before I begin collecting papers and plundering offices. I'll leave the same way I came in with none the wiser until their fellow Syndicate mages notice they aren't answering their phones anymore. With luck, I'll be paying them a visit sometime soon. I've come a long way and I have a lot of work to do.