Oregon in the Fall - 7. Chapter Seven: Haven

In twilight’s embrace, where shadows play,
Under Aten’s gaze and lunar array,
“I found you!” whispers the night to the day,
A secret dance, so far do we stray.

Wepwawet’s howl, in the moon’s soft light,
Druids’ chants, through the starry night.
In this realm, where sun and moon unite,
Mysteries unfold, in plain sight.

—The Abydos Papyrus

As we sat there, stunned into silence, the air in The Lunar Haven felt thick with a mix of disbelief and confusion. I could see it in their eyes, the dawning realization mingling with shock, as if the world we knew had shifted beneath our feet. Dave’s gaze was fixed on Mark, lost in a sea of thoughts, mouth agape. He was pale. Clara, usually so composed, appeared visibly shaken, her deep brown eyes clouded with uncertainty. Mark’s revelation hung over us, casting long shadows on what we thought we understood about ourselves and each other. What did this mean? I was left grappling for answers. Bewildered. Yeah, I think we were bewildered.

“I have no idea what to do with this information,” I said.

“No shit,” Clara said, “but I don’t really believe in coincidence.”

Maybe it was too much for Dave because he just got up from his chair, and bolted out of the room.

“He’ll… be fine,” Clara said.

“I’m sorry, Grey,” Mark said, a look of sadness on his face.

“I can’t even begin… to process this. Beatrice’s son? Sons? How many more lies?” I said.

“I grew up as a wolf in the pack. Just like you, Grey. I only found out when I was… ten years old, maybe? Beatrice told me I could never tell you because your father could never know,” Mark said.

“I…”, I said, at a loss for words, “why did she give Dave away?”

“I have no idea,” he said and hung his head.

“So the curse never affected you, either?”

“No.”

We sat there in silence again. Clara slumped back into her chair, thinking.

Mark had been my only friend. More than that.

yes.

“Mark, you were more than a friend to me,” I said.

His face fell. There was a subtle, heart-wrenching sorrow in the way he held himself, quiet and withdrawn.

“Grey, I could never. I had a job to do,” Mark said.

“If you say that one more time…”

Dave burst through the door, clothes in hand. He threw shirts at me and Mark. “Please excuse my dramatic exit. I think I needed that. Please put on some shirts, and don’t rip these. I actually like them,” he said.

I appreciated the distraction. Dave pulled his shirt up over his head. I didn’t know why, he certainly hadn’t shredded his, but this was a welcome sight nonetheless. Fuck. I stared at his chest, then at his abs. His arms…

“Dave, please do that a little slower. Grey is enjoying the show,” Clara said.

“What? I…” I said, and turned towards her so abruptly that I knocked over my glass of water. “Ah, shit.”

There was no towel or napkin in reach. I just ripped whatever rags I had left on me off my chest, and started furiously trying to mop up the pool of water, and my own embarrassment if that was in any way possible. Couldn’t hurt to try.

“Stop!” Clara said.

“What?” I asked her.

“All of you are shirtless now. I like it. Please don’t move,” she said and leaned back in her chair, a mischievous smile on her face.

“You know we can smell when people are horny, right?” Mark said.

Clara shrugged and said, “I figured as much.”

Mark laughed at that, and put the shirt on Dave had thrown at him. I did the same. I had to take a second look. It appeared we were all wearing variations of ‘The Lunar Haven’ shirts. Mark’s was red, mine was blue, and Dave’s was green.

That made me chuckle.

“Dave, is this a work uniform?” I said.

“Why are these so tight?” Mark said.

Dave shrugged, put on his shirt, and said, “Gets me better tips.”

I could see why. The shirt looked… painted on. It was clinging to him, highlighting each contour of his well-built upper body in a way that was so undeniably attractive. His arms, visibly defined and muscular, seemed to strain against the fabric with every ever so tiny movement. I think I was still staring, my heartbeat elevated. He looked back at me, smiling shyly.

“Get a room,” Mark said.

Maybe I was too obvious, even to those who couldn’t smell it on me. I felt weird. Dave displaced my whole sense of reality. It’s not that I didn’t care about Mark anymore. But… this was Dave.

mate.

I thought we didn’t believe in that?

maybe. never knew.

Mark?

don’t trust. no.

We don’t trust him?

no.

I glanced at Mark, a knowing look in his eyes. He knew I had been talking to my wolf. There was a sense of realization, a dawning awareness that my wolf didn’t trust him. I could almost feel a part of him crumble under that knowledge. Yet, his expression softened into one of acceptance. He gently pressed his lips together and offered a small, resigned smile, as if to say, ‘It was never meant to be. It’s alright. I hope you will trust me again someday.’

“Are you both ok?” Dave said.

“I think so,” Mark said. He nodded, as if to reassure himself.

“Wolves,” Dave said, and shook his head, “I think I need a drink.”

“Alcohol doesn’t solve problems, but I do too,” Clara said.

Dave went behind the bar. “It’s time for beer, I think,” he said. He picked a few chilled bottles from a fridge. “Local. You’ll like it.”

I did.

“So, you’re all here. On this day. And we need to figure out why,” Clara said. “If you’ll allow me to recap. My brother has a brother. This woman called Beatrice is your birth mother. And she conceived you both right around the time Grey was born. That’s a really odd coincidence, don’t you think? You all seem to share some magic shit that glows in the dark. And I…” She paused.

Clara looked lost in thought. She tilted her head upwards, closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath. She held it for a few seconds, and then let the air leave her lungs with a resolute expression. So many emotions in her, I could smell them. Overwhelming. She looked at Dave, focusing on him intently.

“Dave. I never meant to keep you in the dark,” Clara said, her voice tinged with a mix of regret and earnestness. “You need to understand this for what I’m about to say. The truth is, there’s more to The Lunar Haven–and to me–than meets the eye.” She swept her gaze over the rest of us, as if bracing herself for the story she was about to unfold.

“This place is not just a bar. It’s a sanctuary, a nexus of sorts. It’s been in my care for much longer than any of you might guess. You see, I’m not just the quirky bar owner you’ve come to know. My lineage, my very essence, is tied to something ancient.”

She paused, looking at each of us in turn, her eyes lingering on Dave. “When Mark mentioned a war, I knew we were not in Kansas anymore.”

Dave looked confused. “We never were. We’re in Oregon. Are you ok?” Dave said to her.

“You stupid young man. You don’t know your movies,” she said, and paused again, “I am a druid, part of an old order that has safeguarded mystical knowledge and balance for centuries. My connection to the sun and moon, it’s more than just metaphorical—it’s a part of who I am, woven into my being.”

Clara’s expression softened as she continued. “The Lunar Haven has always been a place where paths converge, where destinies intertwine. I knew from the moment Dave was left at our doorstep that he was special, that his arrival was the beginning of something monumental. A thread was being spun. A divergence. And Grey, Mark, your arrival here is no coincidence either. It’s all connected to a larger tapestry, a cosmic plan that’s been in motion for far longer than you can imagine.”

There was a weight to her words, a sense of history and depth, that made the air around us feel charged with significance. “This bar, this haven, it’s been here, waiting, preparing for the moment you all would come together. For the moment when the prophecy would begin to unfold.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you, Dave. I had to wait for the right moment, for the signs to align. And quite frankly, I didn’t understand before. But now, we’re at a crossroads, and it’s time for the truth to come out. It’s time for us to embrace our roles in this unfolding story.”

Her gaze was earnest, pleading for understanding. The revelation hung in the air between us.

“What the fuck is a druid?” Mark said, pulling us out of this revelatory moment in the most inappropriate way possible.

Clara glared at him. “How dare you ruin my ominous prophesying!” she said. A smile formed on her face.

Dave seemed lost. His eyes were darting in all sorts of directions, as if to make sense of this. “So… mom knew all this, too?” he said.

“Yes,” was her simple answer. “And to your question, Mark. Even in the supernatural world, we are mostly unknown. You can’t even smell our magic.”

“I could,” I said, looking at her. That startled her.

“What do you mean?” Clara said.

“Remember when you came to my room this morning when I was in the shower?” I said.

“You did what?” Dave said, appalled.

“I sensed something foreign. Unknown. Like an echo, a shadow. I didn’t know what to make of it, but if you’re telling me that you can’t be… smelled, then that’s not true,” I said.

“That’s… disconcerting,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because that goes against thousands of years of knowledge. If you’re able to sense me, my people are in grave danger,” Clara said. Her heart was racing, I could feel it.

“I’m not a threat to you,” I said in earnest.

“I know you’re not, Grey. I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I thought you were. But if you can sense me, others might, too. So right now, I truly hope you’re just a really special guy, and the only one who can.”

“Your people?” Dave said. His face was adrift in a sea of confusion, searching for a familiar shore to swim to.

Clara just nodded. It seemed there was nothing she could say to him now to make sense of things. I felt like I had to touch him, to comfort him.

mate. comfort.

Yeah.

I put my arm on his shoulders and pressed my forehead against his temple. I got no response at first, but after a while, his tension softened, and he rested his head against mine. I inhaled deeply, breathing him in. He relaxed. He was still so utterly confused, but I could help him relax. That made me happy.

Clara looked at me, knowingly. Her expression was thankful, with a slight smile. I nodded at her.

“To continue, druids make sure that the natural balance is in order. And to be quite frank, it makes no sense that it wouldn’t be. Nature is so complicated, so intricate, that it’s really hard for any singular event to offset the balance. But it has. And I have no fucking clue why,” Clara said.

She put her hands up in the air and started weaving patterns again, like she did before. I could feel the energy around us shifting. This time it was fresh. New. An apple appeared in front of her, levitating. It was tiny, shrunken. Unhealthy? She used her left hand to grasp the gravity-defying apple and looked at it.

“Well, fuck,” Clara said.

“What is it?” Dave said.

“Everything is wrong,” she said and dropped the apple on the table. It split open slightly, accompanied by a mushy sound. It seemed to age before our eyes, rotting away within seconds. Clara bolted out of the room.

“Is this a thing that people in the Miles household do?” I said.

“I don’t think she’s going to get new shirts, Grey,” Mark said.

“I knew she could do things. But I never really questioned how magic works,” Dave said.

“You never tried to figure out your power?” I asked him.

“We tried. But it never came back. Not until last night. Do you… all still feel the energy that just went through us?” He looked at Mark, then at me. Pleading.

“Yeah, I do,” I said. Mark nodded.

Clara came back into the room. She didn’t have shirts with her, instead it was sheets of paper. They looked like ancient documents. She was pacing. She sat back down and said, “30 years ago, there was a fire here, and it destroyed big parts of the library of texts we held. I still have some, though. Look what I found.”

She held up a document and showed it to us.

“What is it?” Mark said.

So she read from the text…

In the dance of distant stars and time’s deep sway,
Uranus whispered secrets on an April day.
Its voice, a harbinger of change and fates untold,
In celestial ballet, mysteries began to unfold.

Years spun by, in the vast cosmic sea,
Until Mercury rose, a beacon for the key.
On September’s breath, it paused in western grace,
Marking a path for those in the mystical chase.

Between these cosmic points, a journey was spun,
From Uranus’ call to Mercury, the messenger’s run.
In this astral tale, written in the heavens’ art,
Lies the destiny of heroes, ready to depart.

“Seems like one of those poems mom read to me to help me fall asleep,” Dave said.

“She didn’t read them to you to help you fall asleep, you idiot,” Clara said.

“What does it mean?” I wanted to know.

“I think it speaks about Uranus being in conjunction with the sun on Grey’s 15th birthday. And today… Today is September 22, 2023,” Clara said.

We all looked at her expectantly. I wasn’t getting it.

She continued, “Today, Mercury is at its greatest western elongation.”

“Astrology? Really?” Mark said.

He had a point.

“I didn’t just write this down. It’s in the fucking text,” Clara said.

She had a point.

“I think Mercury is the messenger, representing the flow of information. This would be us right now. ’Lies the destiny of heroes, ready to depart.’ Hmm.”

“I’m not a hero,” I said.

“This is awfully cringe, Clara,” Dave said.

“Again! I didn’t write the text!” Clara exclaimed. She seemed annoyed now. “I think we need to go see some people I haven’t seen in a long time. We need to go to Eldarwood.”

“Eldarwood? Come on now,” Mark said.

“In the Badlands,” Clara said.

“Here in Oregon?” I said. I couldn’t believe it. “That’s just arid landscape. There is nothing.”

“We’re excellent at staying off the radar. Anyway, let’s get some sleep. We’ll get some supplies tomorrow, and… clothes, but we should not stall much longer. Mark, you can have a room upstairs, of course. You’re part of this now.”

Dave and I looked at Mark, nodding.

He’s ok, right?

maybe. wary.

Dave looked at Clara and said, “We can’t just leave this place, it won’t run itself.”

“Edna can jump in, she’d love it. I’ll make a few calls tomorrow to cover the rest.”

And that’s where we stood. Clara gave Mark a free room. It seemed like him and I were the only people staying here as guests right now. We said our good nights, and everyone retreated into the solace of their own thoughts.

I closed the door to my room and returned to the window sill where I had stood this morning. As I stared out into the distance, I felt worlds apart from the person I was just hours ago. The window framed the night sky, a tapestry of stars scattered across the velvet darkness, each a silent witness to the turmoil within me. The cool glass against my fingertips felt grounding, a tangible connection to the world outside my whirlwind of thoughts.

What had I gotten myself into? For now, I wouldn’t have an answer to this. I was a piece in a puzzle I barely understood, a player in a game whose rules were still unclear. My gaze drifted over the sleepy town, the mundane tranquility of it so at odds with the storm inside me.

A knock at the door. I turned, my heart skipping a beat, as the sound echoed in the quiet room. It was Dave—air—sun—spring. Hesitantly, I moved towards the door, each step heavy with apprehension and curiosity. The door creaked open. Dave had a hesitant but hopeful look on his face, as if he carried a silent plea for understanding or perhaps something deeper, unspoken yet profoundly felt.

“Can I come in?” Dave said. His voice was a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a quiet seeking.

I nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. As he crossed the threshold, the air shifted subtly. Everything became warmer, right, just for a moment. The door closed with a soft click, marking a boundary between the world outside and this intimate space we now shared.

He stood there for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then his gaze met mine, steady and earnest. “I… I just didn’t want to be alone tonight,” he confessed, his voice barely above a murmur.

I understood. The weight of the day’s revelations, the tangled threads of fate and destiny, had left us both adrift in a sea of uncertainty. In this room, we found a haven, a quiet respite from the storm.

mate.

“I don’t want to be alone either,” I admitted, my voice echoing his quiet intensity.

We moved towards the bed, an unspoken agreement between us. There was no need for words. We lay down side by side, the mattress dipping gently under our combined weight. The proximity was intimate, yet respectful, a shared space that was comforting in its simplicity.

As I lay there, I could feel the warmth of Dave’s body close to mine, a reassuring presence in the darkness. Our breaths synchronized, a gentle rhythm in the quiet room. It was a connection that went beyond the physical, a meeting of souls that sought solace in each other’s company.

At some point, our hands found each other, fingers intertwining in a silent expression of solidarity and support. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to me. He meant the world to me. The night deepened around us, the soft sound of our breathing the only thing I allowed myself to hear. In those quiet hours, the chaos of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the here and now, the gentle bond that connected us in this shared moment of vulnerability and tenderness.

He fell asleep, but I just continued watching him, breathing him in, feeling him. His presence. I thought I could never fall asleep because this moment was too good to just drift away from. I still did. He was my haven now.