August 23^rd, 1998

A small town in Italy

     There are moments within moments where singular events occur. After Golden Hour and before Twilight there is a moment between where the sun is optically touching the horizon. It lasts, at most, three minutes from when the sun first makes contact to when it finally falls off the proverbial edge of the earth until it makes its nightly journey back around to the other side of the horizon. During this momentary celestial event a rare type of creature is often born.

     Faders look much like crows. They have black feathers, shiny beaks, and a harsh song. However, they are twice as big as an ordinary crow, have glowing eyes, and leave a faint orange and black after-image when they move. Because the event that causes their formation is constantly happening as the Earth rotates, there is always a chance one of these will form. On their own, they are relatively harmless and will burn out in a few minutes without a sustainable source of energy. If they do find energy, there’s a chance they can replicate. If they replicate, they can flock together.

     Grehg was a tall man. He had been tall his entire life. All one thousand twenty-two years of it. Ok, maybe he was short for the first fifteen years but that was so long ago it was hard to remember. Unfortunately, these old Italian streets were built with a much shorter population in mind. As such, he was hunched over as he sprinted down the stone streets. Just ahead, three Faders cawed as they wove around people and down alleys. 

     Grehg kept his Light up, both to propel him forward and to occasionally phase through a person rather than dodge them or risk knocking them down.

     The Faders hesitated as they passed a small source of energy. An oil lantern hung from the awning of a pub. Together, the Faders spiraled and circled the dancing flame, enticed. Grehg took his chance. He brought the tips of his pointer fingers and thumbs together, then quickly spread them wide. A thin sheet of light held taught at his fingertips. With a flourish he spun the glowing net around the lantern, scooped the three Faders up. He then sealed the net by bringing his fingers back together. For a moment, they were calmed, satiated by the cocoon of energy they desired. Grehg crushed the cage of light, shattering the formations back into their raw materials. Three orange beams shot upward and dissipated into the quickly darkening sky.

     Pub patrons murmured and stared at him, but Grehg was long used to this sort of attention. Rumors might circulate but they usually quickly died down with scrutiny and doubt as powerful mystery killers.

     Grehg glanced at a clock on the wall and cursed. At this rate… No reason to worry until he was sure all the Faders were gone. He turned on his heel and sprinted back the way he came

     After another half hour of searching lead to no other signs of lingering Faders. The sky had truly turned to night and the others were probably already waiting for him. A couple more side roads and he emerged in the town center, a rounded courtyard by the river where shops were replaced with benches and street musicians. The night was warm, and the locals were out in droves enjoying as much as they could. Blended amongst the bustle, three figures sat at a wooden table silently watching the crowds.

     Grehg took a breath and strode towards them. Norah was the first to notice him approach. She was a short, brown woman with piercing blue eyes, messy silver hair, and rounded features.

     She waved him over. Though her face remained placid, Grehg grinned at the warm welcome. 

     Joen and Haesel were deep in conversation and didn’t notice Grehg approach.  Joen was a short man, though taller than Norah. He had black, shoulder-length hair, a thick beard, a powerful nose, red eyes, and copper-brown skin. Haesel was nearly as tall as Grehg, with deep purple hair that tied loosely down to her shoulders and matching purple eyes. She had warm, umber skin, a sharp nose and proud face. Currently, her brow was furrowed as all her ire was aimed at Joen.

     “You have no idea who you’re going to pick?”

     “None,” Joen said, failing to keep the glee from his tone.

     Haesel sat back in a huff. She turned to Norah for backup and only then noticed where Norah’s attention was.

     “Any problems?” Haesel asked Grehg.

     He shook his head and planted himself in the fourth seat.

     “Good. Now that we’re all here, we need to formally discuss—”

     “Hold up, Spring, we have more pressing matters,” Joen said as he turned to Grehg.

     Grehg hung his head dramatically punctuated with a feigned sigh. Then he grinned.

     “Forty-three,” He bellowed and slapped the table in triumph. A few people nearby jumped and shot them judgmental looks.

     “Damn. I only found thirty-two,” Joen sighed.

     Grehg and Joen simultaneously turned to Haesel. She flinched at the synchronize attention.

     “Twenty-eight,” she proffered reluctantly.

    Norah pursed her lips and started taping her index fingers together. Slowly, the other three turned to her.

    “One hundred and eighteen,” Norah said. She spoke as soft as ever, the rarity of tone of her voice lending every word an unfathomable weight. Her three companions groaned in defeat and though she didn’t smile, a light danced behind her eyes.

Joen stood and stretched, then held a hand to Norah.

     “To the victor. Where to next?”

     Norah took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She patted her stomach woefully and then pointed down a small walkway off the courtyard. People seemed to be avoiding this particular direction and it seemed darker than the rest of the area. And what was that sense of dread? Grehg shivered. 

     “Are you sure?” he asked Norah. 

     Norah grinned. 

     “Well, that’s worrying,” Joen said.

     Norah turned out to be hungry. The four stood outside a wooden food stand that was twenty or so buildings from the central courtyard and wedged between two boarded up shops that gave no hint as to what they used to sell. On a weathered sign in chipped paint was written, ‘Emidio’s La Macelleria.’

     Grehg shivered again and Joen didn’t seem any more comfortable. Haesel just smiled.

     “We need to open,” she muttered to Grehg and Joen. “This might be another clue into the mystery of Norah.”

     “A thousand years couldn’t unravel Norah. You think a holl-in-the-wall food stand is going to enlighten you?” Joen hissed.

     Norah marched happily up to the window of the stand and knocked. The space behind the stand must have had more room than it seemed because it too a few moments before a wizened Italian man to appear. He had no hair left anywhere, not on his scalp, chin, or brow line. He wore buttoned shirt, a dirty apron, and a flat cap. Time had hunkered him down as he was barely tall enough to see over the counter. He took one look at Norah, smiled, and pointed to the seemingly barricaded door of the building to the left. Norah marched over and pulled on the handle. The door swung freely despite the wooden slabs nailed across it.

     Emidio must have taken advantage of his abandoned neighbors because inside was spacious, warm, and welcoming. Orange lighting and cushy seating spaced evenly throughout, and the air was thick with the smell of food and the sound of conversation. Emidio silently guided them to a booth. Once they were seated, Emidio placed a hand on Norah’s shoulder and smiled at her warmly. She put her hand on his and smiled back. Then he bustled his way to the kitchens. A moment of passed.

     “What the hell was that?!” Joen hissed.

     “It is rare to see such joy expressed so outwardly, Norah,” Grehg agreed.

     “Why are you two like this?” Haesel signed. “You know how kind Norah is at all times.”

     “Haesel, she placed her hand on his hand,” Joen said as he reenacted the tender moment with Grehg. “That’s tantamount to proposal of marriage from Norah!”

     Norah placed both hands on her chest and gasped. Joen shook his head.

     “You will forever surprise me,” Joen said.

     Haesel scowled and looked between the two of them. She opened her mouth to speak but caught herself. Not quickly enough as Grehg noticed.

     “What is it, Haesel?”

     All three looked to her now. 

     “It’s just— do I ever surprise you?” Haesel asked quietly

     “No,” Grehg said immediately.

     Norah shook her head.

     “I am a little surprised you asked,” Joen admitted.

     “What’s this about?” Grehg asked.

     “I’m worried about our successors,” Haesel said finally. “What if we can’t set them up properly to take on this role? Or, worse, what if we can’t convince anyone to even try?”

     A solemn air fell on the group.

     “We still have a little time. Maybe we should start thinking about who good options might be,” Joen said.

     Haesel’s eyes widened.

     “You haven’t picked anyone yet?!” Haesel said aghast.

     “Of course, you probably already have a shortlist,” Joen said.

     “Probably a longlist,” Grehg said with the tone of a joke. Joen gave him a weird look but Norah, surprisingly, bellowed a single, guttural laugh.

     “Norah gets me,” Grehg said, satisfied.

     “This is important. The most important thing we’ll ever do,” Haesel said. “Our last act on this Plane before the Veil.”

     “I don’t think it will be that difficult,” Joen said. “Our predecessors choose us of all people and things turned out decently.”

     “Except for—,” Haesel began but Joen cut her off.

     “Yes, yes, except for all the terrible things that happened but we can’t control what people do. We’re protectors, not leaders.”

     “No, Haesel is right,” Grehg said as he got to his feet. A few of the patrons looked at him wardingly. “This is serious. We are the Seasons! We’ve done the incredible! Who we choose will carry on our legacy?”

     To the horror of Joen, Norah, and Haesel, Grehg stood up on his chair with his arms held out triumphantly.

     “IN THE NAME OF THE MOTHER WHO HAS GIVEN US LIFE—,”

     Grehg was, fortunately, interrupted by the arrival of Emidio with a balanced try of food.

     “Oh! Food time!” he said joyously and returned to his seat.

     Rain had rolled in while they ate. The rest of the patrons and employees had long departed. Norah and Emidio were washing dishes together while the other three swept and turned up chairs and stools. 

     “You have lively friends,” Emidio said. His voice was thick and rough, like his vocal cords were made of rubber. Norah looked up from the pan she was scrubbing and watched as Grehg and Haesel scooped Joen up in a chair and lifted him into the air. Norah didn’t smile but something in her eyes warmed at the sight. Emidio did smile, a grin that cause all the creases of his face to compress and folder. 

     Before long the cleaning was done. Haesel, Joen, and Grehg waited outside while Norah and Emidio had a moment to themselves.

     “You’re doing well?” Emidio asked.

     Norah gave him two thumbs up. 

     “Good. Not that I expected different. It’s been almost fifty years now since you helped me, and you’ve never aged. Still, remaining youthful forever doesn’t guarantee happiness.”

     Norah held out a hand and wobbled it as if to say that things were ok, but Emidio was on the right track.

     “I can’t fathom what your days must be like,” Emidio said as he took Norah’s hand. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

     Norah closed her hand around his and squeezed. Then, she hugged him. Emidio returned the hug. When they parted, they did so reluctantly but the warmth that remained was that of old and pure friends.