With a sigh Brandon continued with his tale, and slowly explained by saying “From all that I understand, the ability to use Alchemy is a part of me, because you have to be a Mana user.”

“Mana? What’s Mana?” Ezekiel inquired, twirling his neck around, and Brandon was acutely aware of how much the Shifter was maneuvering as his discomfort persisted. Brandon forced himself to focus on the answer to his question.

“As Hovel explained, to the Brotherhood it is the ability to manipulate the energy’s around and inside of objects, but not in any thing living. They can’t turn a flower into a cat.” Brandon waved his hand as if to push away his own lackluster explanation.

“That is to say that they manipulate objects and anything not living. So I am a Mana user because my father is one. All of the Brotherhood is made of Mana users. According to Hovel I should to be able to use it too but I have no idea how to control it. I created an Aurora, which is a barrier of some sort. I can protect myself, but other than this Aurora, I am powerless.”

Brandon lifted his hands, licked his lips and grimaced. “I don’t know how to use Alchemy either because it has to be taught to me. And apparently it would take years of learning before I could hope to do what Hovel can do. Once or twice I used my Aurora to save my life, but I couldn’t figure out how to do Alchemy. But I’m not sure I want that knowledge, its dark magic Ezekiel.”

“Dark magic? The shifter rumbled looking troubled.

Not sure how to make him understand what he was feeling, Brandon just said. “It’s dangerous. Mana itself is dangerous to play with. The more you do the more it burns your soul. That’s all I know.” He said, touching his wrist and biting his lip.

Brandon shuddered as he recalled the evil cold slither of the Mana manifesting in his soul. Tainting him with its power. If he could help it he hoped he never had to touch such evil ever again, but he had a sickening feeling that such naive thoughts had no place in their current situation.

“So I am an Alchemist’s, even if I’m ignorant. And I hate it. But Hovel said that I am a descendent of a pure blood Druid and that I am also of the Blood Line of the Greats. I am both a creature of Light. Spirit. Ether. But I am also a man that can harness the dark energy of Mana and practice Alchemy.”

“So the Druids...Your mother....you say that they fed on life? On energy?” Ezekiel softly cut in, he tilted his head, and taped Brandon’s right hand.” The Glowing hands. The hunger. Your sickness. Could that be what happens with you? Because you’re a Druid you have to feed on energy as well?”

Brandon looked away. “I think so. I think that means it’s not just the Arci’s that makes me like this Ezekiel and that’s terrifying. I think it’s just a part of me...something that drives me to want to feed in Ether or the life in living things. I despise it I that is the case”

Ezekiel hissed. “It is the case Brandon as far as we know, but you cant despise your own biology.” Brandon wanted to argue but he just shrugged. Ezekiel sighed. “I know the Hunger has caused you a lot of pain and strife, but the Stone and the Hunger are two different things. For one the Hunger, if it is a part of your biology, then that means that it is perfectly natural for you to crave life. So?” Ezekiel stopped, his left hand wiping at his eyes.

“So?” Brandon prompted.

Ezekiel shrugged. “So I have to wonder? Is the Acris making that hunger worse. Making you feed on things until they die because you can’t stop the Stone?”

Charmed once more by Ezekiel’s quick mind Brandon nodded and agreed. “I know it is. It’s not too hard to see. I figured that out myself.” Brandon opened his hands, then clenched them. “I imagine it’s like a thirsty person trying to drink with a cracked cup. The Acris is literally taking the energy from me. So I can never assuage the thirst. Never quite satisfy the Hunger. It’s like a bottomless battery and I’m the charger. A fucking charger....” Brandon lapsed into a pensive silence muttering harshly “So many people died, and for what? So they could feed them to this terrible stone? It’s sick!”

Having no answer for him, Ezekiel just rumbled a soft sympathetic growl, and started rocking him again.

Perhaps wishing to take the talk away from the Stone Ezekiel jumped back to another topic.

“Brandon can you tell me what the ‘Blood Line of a Great’ means?” Ezekiel soon asked him softly putting his hand in Brandon’s and interlocking their fingers. His blue eyes graced Brandon with understanding and patience. “I get the part about your mother being a creature of Ether. Somehow made of the Light. I get the fact that she was a pure blood, but what is the ‘Blood line of the Greats’ mean exactly?”

Brandon took a breath. “Hovel said that my father was a great and powerful man, Merlin the Great. He like his fathers before him was an incredibly powerful Mana User. Hovel is a Great. And so am I, as his Son.”

Brandon stifled a chill, as he suddenly realized he was a part of his tale that he didn’t know how to express. It was the outlandish idea both Hovel and Jacob had instilled in him the last few days. The way they talked. The things they spoke of.

Winding up his courage he tightened his fists and mumbled “Ezekiel I don’t think I’m as young as I look.” Ezekiel tensed beneath him and was eerily silent. Brandon forced himself to keep speaking.

“Hovel eluded to the idea, and Jacob damn near screamed the words at me multiple times. Speaking as if I know things that I don’t. Like I’m responsible for things I never did. I mean, I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve been getting this feeling that I’m...much older then I appear.” Brandon strangled to a whispered as Ezekiel remained quiet. “Perhaps it’s all a game to fuck with me, but I don’t think it is.”

Ezekiel blew out a breath, and squeezed Brandon’s shoulder. “I hate to say this, because it just makes this all the more upsetting for you if it is true, but I think your right.” Ezekiel tilted his head back, and mused to the ceiling.

“Much older then you appear? I also come to that conclusion, from things Jacob said to me...” Ezekiel snarled in anger. “I don’t want to freak you out Brandon but I think you, Hovel and Jacob, have a history. What that is? Or how that’s even possible I can’t say, but...”

Ezekiel stopped and shook his head, his eyes still trained on the heavens as if they would provide. His conclusion obviously made sense to him, but it was obvious that Ezekiel didn’t know what else to say.

Brandon sighed. “But I don’t understand it Ezekiel. I know who I am. I know I grew up in this base, but according to Jacob and my father I’m just as old as they are and who knows how old that could be?”

Ezekiel ruminated on this, looking like he had something he wanted to add, then he shook his head and gestured to Brandon. “Putting aside all of this guessing and questions, lets go back to the facts here. I know these bastered want the Acris you carry, but why are you carrying it at all? And why did they go about it in such a terrible way? You are an Alchmist. A Great. Which seems to mean something to these people. So if you are truly one of them, a Mana User, why is Hovel so cruel to you?”

Suddenly forced back into the telling of his tale, Brandon settled his hands on his stomach and centered his thoughts. After a moment he answered.

“Because I am both Druid and Mana User. I’m impure to them. My existence is repugnant.” Brandon softly replied. “They call me an abomination. A creature. A terrible mistake!” Brandon spat, hearing Eric’s angry voice in his head. “Hovel told me that my birth was somehow foretold and it was believed that the mixing of Ether and Mana, two very different blood lines, was forbidden. They...”

Brandon faltered and swallowed the dry fear on his tongue as he realized he was at the point where he had to start talking about the Bane. Images of a rippling, freight train full of teeth, cackling voices and white fur flashed in his mind’s eye.

He felt the claws slicking into his cheek. He could smell the black Mana pouring across the world like a burning miasma, over powering him. Brandon rubbed at his arms as they pebbled, and he heard something chuckle against his ear.

“They have this Creed, Ezekiel.” Brandon forced himself to say above a whisper. His voice shook, as he felt the shattering, blinding agony of the Bane slamming into his Aurora all over again. It had been excruciating, feeling his Aurora, breaking. His Will, breaking beneath the unstoppable creature.

“Brandon?” Ezekiel called, cradling his chin suddenly and capturing Brandon’s eyes. “Hey where’d you go?” He softly pressed. “You said something about a Creed then you just went numb.”

“Sorry...” Brandon supplied glancing away, and pulling his face from Ezekiel’s fingertips.

The Shifter waited a moment then he pressed again. “What is it? The Creed?”

Brandon clenched his teeth. “It’s like a bible, I guess. A Foundation that the Brotherhood was built on. But part of the Creed is somehow about me. And me alone. The Creed says that Mana Users and Ether Users were never meant to be one....They believed that the two bloodlines mixing was a sin against their Deity. Their God. The Bane.”

“What GOD!? These Bastard’s as so twisted! I mean I don’t believe any of this crap...Do you?” Ezekiel rumbled rubbing Brandon’s shoulders. Perhaps he sensed the man’s disquiet.

“They say seeing is believing, but no I don’t believe in their GOD.” Brandon stole a quick sigh and frowned. “I don’t know if the God is real. But they believe they serve a GOD.” Brandon stopped and tried to explain more. “Hovel told me...that it was the mixture of my blood that had created the Arci’s. Ether and Mana. Light and Darkness. He spoke about some other things I didn’t understand. About a Balance. Then he made it seem that the taint of my flesh had something to do with the Stone existing.”

Brandon tried to keep his voice from wobbling as he dug deep into his memory, frowning off to the side. His mind whirled with the words of the Creed a moment later. He bit the inside of his cheek as the words sent a breathless shiver of fright strait to his bowels. He didn’t know why the words disquieted him so. ”

But for Ezekiel’s sake he spoke the words, and to his surprise they came out in litany, a small harmony of tune seemed to carry the words off his tongue. Surprised Brandon faltered, but got back on track easily.

For all so worn the Balance holds; Light soft and bold

For all so worn Darkness corrupts souls

For all so worn the Balance breaks

For all so worn the light bleeds hate

The blending of the seeds so worn

Shall lead to broken Morn

Where Balance falters and time once plotted ends

For all so worn the Balance shakes

For all so worn the Balance Breaks

A Broken Sun the breath of tainted child shall make.

Moon and Sun’s collusion become destructions mate.

...The Balance Breaks

The Balance Ends

Light and Darkness breed the end.

At the end, silence stretched. The air felt taunt with mystery and answers, beyond their meager control. Beyond their understanding. Brandon felt small. And in the fringe of his mind he once more heard the layered voices of the Bane hissing inside of his soul.

We know you. We foretold you... The Bane had cackled in evil glee.

It sickened him to think of the meaning of the words. Or the truth of the idea that that foul creature, that vile thing of death and darkness, had such a profound connection to him. He couldn’t help but wonder why. And what the implications of this all could mean.

Taking a moment to dispel the milky white foreboding gaze of the creature from his mind Brandon finally spoke. “The Creed was about me Ezekiel. About my creation.”