Divine Punishment - 7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

And again I found myself collapsed into a heap on the floor. This was getting real old, real fast. I decided it was high time to speak up, while I still had breath enough in me to do so.

“Okay. Enough’s enough. I’ve been your fucking rag doll for the past hour. Not to mention Saturday morning.” Yes, I was back for my “lesson” with Christopher. I had done as he required of me and screwed my brains out over the weekend. It didn’t exactly put sex completely out of my mind, but, well…that’s the key, my butt…It fucking hurt after the weekend sexathon, so I could honestly say I wasn’t too eager to think about more at that time. And, for your information, I wasn’t the only one with a sore ass on Monday. Thanks mom, versatily really IS the way to go. Anyway, back to me standing up to Christopher’s abusive ways.

“You said you’d teach me…stuff. But all you’ve done has been to kick my ass. You said you wanted to test me. See what I can do. Fair enough. I can’t do shit. How does beating me solve any of that?”

“So you wish to learn?”

“Well, duh! And I don’t just mean all this magic powers crap. I want to know about everything. Like what you told me about vampires. I want to know what’s out there.”

“No, you don’t. Trust me, you’re not ready for that.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“You say you don’t know how to defend yourself against me. But you told me of that incident in the bathroom. Subconsciously, you used Terry’s powers.”

“No, he didn’t.” Terry protested. “That was all me.”

“Sorry, but no. You can only manifest your powers in the living realm as long as you have the conduit’s – that is, Xander’s – permission. You need to understand something. The bond between the human and the spirit watching him…it’s only as strong as you make it. The human, the conduit, draws power through the spirit, while the spirit draws will from the human. When the two are in true harmony, everything is done instantly. You don’t actually have to think what you want, let alone verbalize a command. You FEEL it.”

“I don’t follow.” Terry said.

“Look. On Friday morning. When Azarian attacked you. Xander was immobilized first. He asked you to help, but you couldn’t. Why was that?” Terry and I both shrugged. “Because he…” Christopher said, pointing at me “…was scared shitless. He told you to help, but he couldn’t focus his energy on that command. At that moment, you were as out of sync as possible. Hence, you became immobilized as well. There were no real bonds on you, Terry, just on Xander. But because he was incapable of fighting mentally, you were as useless as he was.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You need to train your mind first. You’re flailing around like a mad man trying to imitate a bad martial arts movie when fighting me. I’m simply waiting for you to actually WANT to learn, not just say you do.”

“That doesn’t make much sense to me.” I complained, getting to my feet.

“Everything you’ve asked me has been out of curiosity. An academic sort of interest. You need to stop treating it so lightly and accept that this is real and damn dangerous. Train your mind, open your soul, blend with Terry. Be as one. Only then will you be able to reach your potential and face what’s out there. Until then, telling you all will only instill more fear into you and you don’t need that.”

“That’s pretty fucking stupid. I’m done with this shit.” I dusted off my clothes and walked towards the garage door, but stopped right before I opened it and turned to face Christopher. “I didn’t ask for this, okay? And it’s scary and frustrating and I’m dealing with it my way, okay? So, either talk to me properly, tell me what I need to know, or I leave and expose myself to God knows what. And since you and your angel pals came after me, I assume I’m of some value to you, so news of my demise might not be welcome by your boss, whoever the hell that is. Oh, and I’m also going to the cops and telling them you’re a child molester. So there!” I stuck out my tongue, crossed my arms over my puffed out chest, lifted my chin and waited for his response. Yes, I was the epitome of a brat, but I was mad.

Christopher gave out a long sigh then waved me over next to him. I had triumphed! Who says childish temper tantrums never solved anything? We both sat on the hard floor, he Indian style, in front of me, while I sat against the wall, my knees drawn up to my chest, arms encircling my legs. Terry mirrored my position, on my left. It was like story time at kindergarten!

“Fine. I’ll give you the basics, okay?” I nodded. “I can understand your frustration. I was in your shoes once.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re like me? A…conduit?”

“Yes and no. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“So, where’s your ghost? Why can’t I see it?”

“Yeah, I don’t see it either.” Terry said, pensively.

“That’s where the complicated part comes in. We’ll get to that later, okay?”

“Fine. But don’t think you can put it off forever. I wanna know everything, remember?”

“Yes, yes! Good God, I hate teenagers. So, as I was saying, everything I’ve been doing has a purpose. I wanted to see how you and Terry react instinctively, without proper training. I wanted to see the connection between you.”

“There’s not much of one.” Terry said.

“And who’s fault is that, asshole? You’re the one who kept picking on me at school.”

“Yes, yes, enough of that. Regardless of the reasons behind your enmity during Terry’s life, it now affects your bond. If you were friends in life, or relatives, it would have been easier. But I understand from higher-ups that Terry is an incredibly strong spirit.” Terry grinned and flexed. “While Xander, you are one of the strongest conduits ever encountered. Few people could use Terry’s strength to its full potential. You’re one of them.”

“HA!” I pumped my fist in the air. “I’m awesome!”

“Quite. So, your pairing was created because it was necessary, not because it was easy.”

“Necessary for what?”

“The end game. Whatever that is. Good and evil are locked in eternal battle. And both sides are constantly recruiting.”

“Oh.” Terry and I both replied.

“Yes, now, let me explain a bit about how these…powers work. The spirit draws energy from all around it. Both the world of the living and the dead. Some even call it energy left over from the creation of the Universe.”

“Residual God powers?” I asked.

“Maybe. Don’t ask me how it happens, it just does. Some spirits are able to draw and store more, while others less. The conduit literally channels that energy through him and manifests it in our plane of existence, in a way that manipulates the elements. Air is the easiest and most commonly used element, but the stronger the spirit, the conduit and the connection between them, the easier it is to manipulate the others as well.”

“But Terry can use his powers in the real world, our plane or whatever without me.”

“Again, that’s not true. Remember what I said? If you expressly forbid him to do it, he can’t. Even when it’s simple permission to do something as basic as move a book, the conduit is still necessary. It’s just that, subconsciously, you’ve already given him permission to do such things. And the amount of energy the spirit can expand directly is minimal compared to what you can do together.”

“Wait a minute. Those angels said that I had free will.”

“As I said previously, angels aren’t the most trustworthy individuals. You do have a choice, in not to help Xander. But you need permission to act.”

“So, I can NOT do anything at will, but I need his permission to do something? How in the hell does that make sense?”

“I didn’t make up the rules, you know.”

“Yes, yes. All very interesting.” I interrupted Terry’s grousing “But what about bad ghosts? Like poltergeists? Terry said something about them. And they don’t need a conduit.”

“Wrong again, my dear boy. Poltergeists are former guardian spirits. The bad type, that work for the other side. But their conduit, their human, has been lost. As in killed. But a trace of the former link remains behind, enough to give the spirit free will to attach itself to a place. That place then becomes a conduit. Again, nowhere near as powerful as its original human one, but enough.”

“And do all these powers come from ghosts or are there other…things that can gather this energy as well? And do all ghosts have these powers?” Terry asked.

“Mostly, yes. However, there is true magic in the world as well. Or, as close to it as possible. People who draw their energy directly from the world around them. If it’s true that the energy comes from God’s creation, then those people are, as Saint Peter said, divinae consortes naturae.”

“Come again?”

“They partook in the divine nature. I have no idea how and it has become increasingly rare over the years. Though, the few cases I have personally encountered have been warlocks far more powerful than any conduit-spirit team I know of. As for your second question, no. Most ghosts can draw energy, but it’s usually an insignificant quantity and they can’t store it long enough to use it. It simply slips away from them. Spirits like you, Terry, are rare. Far more rare than conduits. Which is why there are a lot of people who would do anything to get their hands on you. And as long as the bond between Xander and you isn’t strong enough, it can easily happen.”

“People? You mean that Azarian guy?”

“Yes.”

“What’s his story?” I asked.

“Ah, where to begin? It is such a long story, after all. He is a Necromancer.”

“You mean, like a guy who can communicate with the dead?”

“Yes. And far more. And I don’t mean dead as in ghosts, like you, Terry. I mean completely dead, not having left a single trace of themselves behind. And not just communicate. He can…raise them.”

“Whoa! Hold on, now. Zombies?” I asked, eyes wide, color draining from my face. I was always scared shitless of zombies. Even though they were always portrayed as slow as shit, in my nightmares, my legs would always turn to mush and I couldn’t outrun them, so they all feasted on my brain.

“More or less. One more thing. Necromancers are, at their origin, conduits. So their source of energy is a spirit. Unlike a conduit, Necromancers don’t just channel that energy. They store it themselves and, in the process, consume the spirit. They do this over and over again, with as many spirits as they can find, increasing their power each time. That was what he wanted from you, Terry.”

“He wanted to…eat me?” Terry asked, incredulity in his voice.

“You could say that. And with a weak bond with your conduit, it would have been easy for him.”

“So, if we get our shit together, he won’t be able to do it?” I asked.

“Oh, no. Of course he will. But it will be FAR more difficult. And dangerous for you as well, Xander.”

“Me?”

“Yes. He can consume an unclaimed spirit easily. But one with a strong bond with a conduit? He can only do it THROUGH that conduit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, to paint you a picture that you would understand, Xander…he’d use you like a straw, sucking everything Terry had. And in the process, he’d consume Terry, who would simply cease to exist, while you, Xander, would waste away under the strain.”

“Waste away? That sounds ominous.”

“Ever seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember what happens to the bad guy once he drinks from the fake Grail?”

I remembered alright. It, along with the melting Nazis and the hearts being ripped out of people’s chests thing gave me nightmares as a kid after I first saw the Indiana Jones trilogy. Needless to say, hearing it would happen to me was enough to make me wish I had just run away when I threatened to do so. I suddenly felt very, very sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up, but thankfully, I hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“Xander, are you alright?” Christopher asked me, apparently really concerned. He jumped to his feet and then pulled me up. “Xander?”

“Why the hell did you tell me that?”

“I said you weren’t ready to know.”

“No, I am. But, seriously…You had to tell me THAT?”

“To be fair, it’s only because it’s important to your situation. Coming across Azarian or someone like him is only a matter of time, so you should at least know what you’re up against. You were right about that. If it were Bigfoot that threatened you, the information I gave you would have focused on him.”

“Bigfoot?”

“A simple attempt at levity, given the situation. Pardon me.” Christopher said, smiling.

“Well, it’s not working. But I think another bottle of water will do the trick.” Christopher bowed his head and moved to the table, for the water. I turned to Terry, who was still sitting down, against the wall. I don’t know why, but at that moment, I started wondering why he didn’t simply just go through the wall when he leaned up against it. Did he have to consciously do it? Did he need to concentrate on it or did it come natural and passing through things required concentration? I wanted to ask him about it, but I noticed how meditative he had become yet again. “Terry?” I prodded him.

“Hmm?” he replied, not even looking up.

“What’s up?”

“Well, what Christopher said. I was thinking…Is it even fair to keep going?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, Azarian can get me more easily if I’m on my own. You wouldn’t be in danger if the bond between us didn’t develop. And…you shouldn’t get hurt because of me. Not anymore.”

I had already learned much about Terry over the past few weeks, most of it surprisingly pleasant. Jordan was right, he was a good guy when he wanted to be. But even so, I hadn’t expected him to think of me when Christopher said that he was the main target. It was…touching.

“No, Terry. I shouldn’t. But neither should you. What Azarian does is despicable. And if strengthening our bond and thus increasing the risk to myself is what it takes to make it as hard as possible for that fucker to succeed, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Yes, that’s a good start.” Christopher interrupted. “Set a strong common goal. It will help you focus. Investing yourself in order to help Terry is the first link in the chain that ties you together, Xander. And when you finally put everything you have in it…you’ll be something to watch.” He smiled proudly and both Terry and I grinned. “Yes, train your mind, center it and wonderful things can be accomplished. Why, some years ago, a Vietnamese woman set herself on fire while on TV. She kneeled, pressed her hands together as if in prayer and never moved, never cried out, as the flames consumed her. Yes, the power of the mind…”

“Jesus fucking Christ! You sure know how to ruin the mood, don’t you? What the hell, man? Wasn’t the Indiana Jones thing enough for you? You have to tell me about people burning alive?” I screamed, then snatched the water bottle from his hand.

“Oh, I apologize once again.” Christopher said and he had the good sense to actually look embarrassed. “Err, should we get back to training?”

“Yeah, but I think I need to put my glasses on. Fighting is easier when you can actually see your opponent.”

“No. I specifically wanted you to do it without them. Again, I wanted to see how you’d react instinctively. When you’re ready, you won’t need to see an attack in order to counter it.”

“Spidey sense?”

“Something like that. In the meantime, get contacts if you want. I’d hate to break your nice glasses.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.” I said, tossing the empty bottle in the corner of the garage.

“No.” Terry said.

“No?” Christopher and I were taken aback.

“Not yet. Finish the story, Christopher.”

“Well, I think I’ve covered the basics. We’ll delve into it more along the way…”

“No. On Friday, with Azarian…You mentioned someone. Sabian, I think you said.”

Christopher looked uncomfortable, but tried to compose himself. “Yes. That was his name.” he answered.

“What happened? Who was he?”

“A friend. The dearest one I’ve ever had. We grew up together, but we were separated during our adolescence. We were fortunate enough to come across each other during our adulthood. Though, fortune perhaps didn’t play much of a role. Both of us conduits, we ran into one another when investigating a Necromancer’s activity in Hamburg. We reconnected, one could say. We were inseparable for nearly a decade. But a year ago, we encountered the very Necromancer we were searching for in Germany.”

“Azarian?”

Christopher nodded, but remained silent. I remembered Jordan’s comment from the restaurant, that Christopher was probably gay himself. In that light, his relationship with Sabian would have carried even more weight and I could only imagine his grief. Not knowing what to do or say, I stayed quiet and lowered my gaze to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Terry said.

Once again, Christopher nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Is that why we can’t see your ghost?” I asked. I suddenly felt like I understood. “Did Azarian drain part of it as well? And, like…now it can’t take a corporeal form?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Okay, maybe I didn’t understand, but I had to try, didn’t I? “Then…what?”

Christopher raised his walking stick with his left hand and with his right, he twisted the handle until it clicked and slid out a slender short sword.

“No, my ghost was never corporeal to begin with. This is my ghost.” He said, lifting the sword.

“You lost me again.” I whined.

“Okay, so lost spirits can get attached to objects or locations, as I said, right?”

“Yeah…”

“There are certain objects…talismans, that attract extremely powerful, pure spirits. These spirits are extremely strong but, for whatever reason, cannot connect with a conduit directly. So, they pour not only their energy, but their very essence into the talisman. That talisman is then entrusted to a conduit and the bond is formed. Talismans get passed down from generation to generation, so that there can always be a bond between spirit and man. It’s the bloodline that keeps the bond unbroken. As long as the talisman remains in the same family, it, its spirit and the power it wields, can be used. Lost, and the power goes with it. Such talismans are extremely rare and valuable to our cause, as they are truly incorruptible. A Necromancer, for example, cannot consume its power.”

“So how’d you get that?” Terry asked, eyeing the sword with great interest.

“My great-great-great-grandfather, Charles Pierson V, a fourth-rate nobleman from England. He was given the sword by a man who, according to the journal Charles kept, manifested the natural powers I mentioned. The man simply gave Charles the sword as a gift after telling him he was a conduit. You can imagine how Charles reacted to all of this. He was ready to have the man thrown in chains. But a practical demonstration of his powers dissuaded him. And a good thing too. Ever since, there has been at least one conduit in my family every generation. Someone to wield the sword and the spirit within - Charles’ dead infant brother, actually. I’m sorry to say I will be the last one, as I have no offspring or other relations for that matter. The talisman will die out with me.”

Damn, the man had a way about him that killed any good cheer. He had seemed like such a jovial man that first night I met him. Now, he was all about gloom and doom. I could see the life I had ahead of me, as a conduit, however short, would not be as glamorous as I had hoped. Yes, I had entertained a dream of Broadway musicals at one time. But then I discovered I’m tone deaf, so that was that. This potentially deadly new destiny I had ahead of me didn’t really change things in that respect.

“And on that cheery note, back to training.” Terry said. And train we did. Well, I got my ass tossed around some more, but I was definitely getting better. An hour later, I was ready to call it quits and I told Christopher in no uncertain terms that unless he felt like giving me CPR right there on that garage floor, he’d better stop for the day.

“Well, I think we’ve made some progress. At the very least, I can see you are more focused. Your heart is in it more. Now, center your mind as well and you’ll get it. Mind over matter isn’t just a catch phrase used to sell self-help books, you know. A centered mind means a balanced heart and that means a stronger bond between the two of you. Your talent might be innate but, like any such gift, without training to hone it, it gets wasted. So, be sure of what you want, then obtain your goal. I expect you to hit me in our next session. Understood?”

“Err…”

“Good. Wednesday at 5 PM it is. Now scurry along.”

I just grabbed my glasses off the table, straightened my sweat-soaked shirt and dusted off my pants as much as possible and headed out. Christopher’s voice stopped me right before I closed the door. I looked at him over my shoulder, but his back was turned to me.

“Think about what I said in relation to Jordan. He needs to know. Not intimate details, but he should at least be aware of the overall danger.” He said. I bit my lip and walked away. Sure, just tell Jordan. When things are going so great, I’ll tell him I have his dead cousin as a guardian ghost who uses divine powers to…fight on the side of Heaven or some such nonsense.

“Yeah.” Terry said.

“What?”

“He’s gonna think you’re fucking nuts.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m kinda still hoping I am, because this shit is scary.”

We kept walking towards the bus station, each deep in his own thoughts. And my contemplation was all about Jordan. I really didn’t want to lose him, but if it was between him thinking I was crazy and potential demise, I’d rather he lived thinking I was that crazy ex-boyfriend everyone has at one point in their life. Or so romantic comedies and erotic thrillers would have you believe. Yeah, I’d tell him over dinner. “Honey, pass the salt. Oh, and I see ghosts. More sauce?”

“You do realize you’re talking aloud…to yourself, right?” Terry intruded on my thoughts.

“I am?”

“If you want to make him believe you’re not a wacko, you’re not off to a very good start.”

I growled menacingly, but I knew he was right. I definitely wasn’t looking forward to dinner.

“Hey, if it comes to it, break-up sex is pretty damn good.” Terry said encouragingly. Fucking asshole.