Date: Fri, 3 Jan 2003 20:28:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Liam Barnes <pagangamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Awakening: Prologue and Chapter 1

<Standard Disclaimer Here> This is a work of fiction involving the
relationship of two young men (well, late teens to mid twenties), both
physical and emotional. If you are made uncomfortable by such subjects as
gay sex, magic and the supernatural, then please stop reading now.
Likewise, if you are below the age of 18, please stop here as well.

<More legal stuff> This story uses elements from White Wolf's World of
Darkness series of games. Mage: The Ascension, Verbena, Cult of Ecstasy,
The Traditions, The Technocracy, and similar elements are copyrighted by
White Wolf Game Studio. This work of fiction is not a challenge to existing
copyrighted materials, and no profit is gained by it's publication.

	Constructive criticism is highly appreciated; flamers and hate mail
will be ignored. Write me at PaganGamer@yahoo.com with Awakening in the
subject heading.


The Awakening
By Liam Barnes


Prologue

September 20th, 2002
5:13 p.m.
Hunter's Point Area, San Francisco

	The metal door slammed open with a clang that echoed through the
empty warehouse. Dust built up from years of disuse kicked up into the air
which filled with the sound of stray pigeons taking flight. Two battered
figures hobbled into the building, trailing a minute path of blood and
dirty footprints.
	Andrew shifted the weight of Marcus' body, eliciting a quiet moan
form the black haired man. Biting his lower lip, he took survey of the
room. Sunlight lit up sections of the huge space, coming in from rusted out
holes in the roof and walls. The floor space was mostly empty, except for a
few tables and chairs. Near what looked to be the office area was a sink
and mirror.
	"I'm going to set you down for a minute, Marcus. Please hold on."
The other nodded, obviously in pain and near unconsciousness. The two moved
to a concrete support column, where Andrew slowly set the other down. He
placed a hand softly to Marcus' dirty face and smiled as best he
could. "I'll be back real quick-like."
	Marcus managed a roguish grin, which made even his blood and dirt
smattered face light up. "Hurry?" was about all he managed to get out
before he began coughing.
	"Promise," the light-headed youth nodded. He then ran to the door,
shut it as quietly as possible, and then ran to the office.
	Once inside he began to rummage through the shelves and desk, only
stopping when he found a large bucket. It's a bit dirty, he thought, but it
will have to do. He grabbed a cup that he found on the desk as he dashed
out of the room. He then went to the sink and tried it. Nothing came out,
not that he really expected for whoever had used the building last to have
left the water on, but he had hoped.
	Looking over at Marcus' slouched form, Andrew knew he couldn't risk
moving the young man any more, and a quick glance at his own disheveled
clothing stated that he couldn't go out unnoticed. He shrugged his
shoulders. Well, Marcus is always telling me to use what I've got, and
don't waste time wanting more. Leaning over the sink he placed his hands on
the faucet and closed his eyes.

"Spirits of the water, hear my plea.
In supplication, I call out in great need."

	Gathering all the willpower he could, he forced his quiet voice
through the Gauntlet, the barrier that separates the spirit from the
physical. He pulled out a small pocket knife, and placed it across the palm
of his hand. Gritting his teeth, he ran it across his flesh. Bright red
drops of blood shone through the dirt, and began to drip into the basin.

"Blood to Blood,
Life to Life,
Let my sacrifice bring forth your sacred light."

	He released his will and felt it cross through the veil between the
worlds. Nothing happened. He should have expected it, the Avatar Storm
raging across the Gauntlet distorted any efforts to pierce the barrier,
sometimes fatally so. Sighing, and near the verge of tears, he nearly
yelped when he heard the loud groan come from the walls. Hissing noises
issued from the faucet, and with a gurgle and sputter, dirty brown water
began to stream into the sink. Slowly the water began to run clear.
	Andrew gave a cry that was somewhere between a sob and laughter. He
grabbed the bucket and started filling it up. "Thank you, spirits!" Once it
was full, he filled the cup with water and placed it in the bucket. He was
about to shut the faucet off, when a voice that sounded as though it came
from deep in a well cried out, "DO NOT!"
	Surprised, the youth held his hand motionless over the
knob. "What?" He looked around the room, but no others where there.
	"LET US BE FREE," the voice stated, coming from the faucet. "BLOCK
THE SINK, AND LET US FLOW FREELY. THAT IS OUR PRICE FOR AID."
	Still a bit in shock, Andrew pulled up on the switch to close the
drain. He thanked the spirits of water again, and grabbed the
bucket. Walking over to Marcus he took his shirt off and began to tear it
into strips. He removed the cup from the water, trying to keep as much of
the cool liquid in it, and held it up to Marcus' mouth.
	"Come on, Marcus. Here's some water, you need to drink it."
	The black haired man made no move to drink. Andrew leaned closer,
his worry turning to fear. Marcus was breathing shallowly, and made a
hollow rasping sound when he did. Taking his knife back out, he began
cutting the bloody shirt away from the other's side and chest. He had to
peel the stiff material from Marcus' pale skin.
	Andrew let out a sympathetic hiss as he got a first hand look at
the various weeping holes, at least five, that were scattered along the
left side. Luckily enough, the wounds were cauterized almost immediately
when they were made, so very little blood was actually lost, but from the
placement, he knew something had to be damaged inside.
	He began soaking some of the strips of his shirt in the cool water,
and began to clean Marcus' chest and side. Before long, the pale smooth
skin was cleaned, allowing Andrew a good look at where the actual damage
was. He placed his hand on the firm muscles of the other's chest, and
closed his eyes. "Gaea, give me the insight to find what ails this man."
	His senses suddenly expanded. He could feel everything within
Marcus as though it were his own body. He felt how faint the other's pulse
was, and the throbbing in his side and legs from where the Hit Mark's gun
fire hard riddled him as they had run from it. He could also feel the
punctured lung and intestines.
	Andrew drew his senses back, tears of frustration and fear welled
up in his green eyes. He leaned close to Marcus, placing his arms around
the young man and held him close. Forehead to forehead, Andrew tenderly
placed his hand on other's cheek. "I can't heal you Marcus. You need to
stay awake so that you can. Please," he whispered, tears flowing down his
face, "please, my Jarilo."
	"I'm too wiped, my little stragoi." His voice was barely a
whisper. "I just need a little sleep first."
	"No, your injuries are too bad. Please don't fall asleep on me."
Andrew was fully crying at this point. "You are a part of me. Our souls are
one, if you die, I wouldn't be able to live."
	Marcus smiled sadly. "One less fragment for you to hunt down. I'll
truly be apart of you again."
	"Here," Andrew forced the cut in his hand to reopen, letting the
blood flow freely. He took every bit of his willpower and magical ability
and placed it into the blood. "Blood is the life, it is the power that
drives us, and brings new life to the world."
	He held his hand up to the dark headed man. "Drink this. It's free
Quint, Marcus. Use it to heal yourself." He saw Marcus hesitate, and began
to worry that the other would refuse. "Please," he pleaded. "I know you
think it's gross and all but it's the only way I can think to do it."
	Marcus gently grabbed the offered hand and gave his trademark
roguish grin before he licked it as though it were the sexiest thing in the
world to do. However, it wasn't long before he began to drink the enchanted
blood in earnest. Within a few minutes he stopped, leaned back and
sighed. He was fast asleep shortly after.
	Andrew expanded his senses again, and saw that Marcus was healing
himself. Relieved, he leaned back and laid his head on Marcus' shoulder. He
stared off into the room, watching the moats of dust swirl in the
sunlight. In the background he could hear the water splashing as it poured
over the sink's edge. He was reminded of the first time he had met Marcus.
	It had been four months (only four months?) since that life
changing day; before he had been dragged into a secret war for reality,
before the days of terror, chased by the shadowy minions of the
Technocracy. Before his Awakening into true magick and the strange
dreams. He let his mind drift back to that day, beneath the Eucalyptus and
cypress in Golden Gate Park.


Chapter 1


May 18th, 2002
11:42 a.m.
Golden Gate Park, San Francisco

	Sunlight streamed through the Eucalyptus and cypress branches in
patches, lighting up pollen and small insects flying through the
air. Andrew took a deep breath and smiled. A small stream babbled nearby,
creating a nice relaxing atmosphere. He was in Golden Gate Park for the
weekly meeting of the San Francisco Wiccan and Pagan Association, which was
just beginning.
	Sandra, the Wiccan priestess that led the group meetings, was
giving the usually meeting opening spiel, but his mind was a bit
distracted. Graduation ceremonies were less than a week away, and he
couldn't wait.  His grades were high enough that he was excused from
finals, so after the graduation he was free of school.
	Andrew's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a
god, or as close to one as humans come. The young man looked to be about
seventeen or eighteen years old, had short, wavy black hair and flawless
pale skin. He wore a roguish grin that matched the mischievous glint in his
bright blue eyes. Andrew figured that he must have been part of the local
Goth scene, what with his tight fitting black jeans, leather boots, and
blood-red silk shirt. He was decked out with various pieces of silver
jewelry, including a few choice armor rings, and ear pieces. On someone
else, the combination would have been tacky, but on him it came off as sort
of sexy.
	"Everyone," Sandra was saying, "Give a warm welcome to Marcus
Uptmor, who is going to be joining us today."
	Marcus had stuck his hands in his pockets, as everyone gave their
welcomes. He nodded and walked towards Andrew giving a seemingly
unconscious tug on his pants that caused Andrew's eyes to dart towards the
other's suddenly emphasized crotch area. The blond youth wasn't sure what
embarrassed him more; the fact that he had looked so quickly, or that he
had look hard enough to notice that the other was going regimental. He
quickly looked away, and right into Marcus' face, who happened to be
looking right back at him. Andrew felt the heat rise in his face as he
blushed.
	The black headed youth sat on the lawn next to him, said hello and
winked. Andrew blushed again, and stammered out a hello. There was
something vaguely familiar about the teen that was both intriguing, and
yet, disturbing as well. Throughout the meeting he found himself staring at
the youth from the corner of his eyes.
	When he wasn't glancing over at the new guy, Andrew tried to pay
attention to what was going on in the meeting. It was fairly the same as
usual; organizing Good Samaritan activities at the local shelters and
helping out with picking up trash throughout the park. One of the other
boys in the group, a portly college geek named Mackey, talked about
starting a class on aural cleansing and the like. It was all he could do to
keep from yawning.
	It's not that he didn't share many of the others' feelings about
spirituality, because he did. There was just something fake about all of
their prattle. No, not fake, but slightly desperate and grasping. He knew
deep inside that there was more to the world than what was taught in
school, or that the Christian churches preached. He just didn't know quite
what, or where to look for it.
	A slight mental itch nagged at his perceptions, causing him to look
over at the handsome youth, Marcus. His face flushed harshly when he saw
that the other was staring quite openly at him. Marcus flashed a very
disarming smile of impossibly perfect teeth at him, and the young pagan
felt a deep desire to kiss him. Tearing himself from the other's lurid
gaze, Andrew tried to stare forward. Christ on a crouton! He thought, what
is with him? Is he macing on me, or just messing with my head?
Unconsciously, he began to bite his lower lip.
	Sandra gave the standard closing speech and everyone began to break
into their small circles of friends. Andrew barely knew anyone there, he
himself being relatively new to the group. He stood up and dusted the seat
of his jean shorts off, preparing to head on to Clement Street for some
Chinese. Turning to go, he came face to face with Marcus.
	"SHIT!" Andrew practically squealed.
	"You all right?" the other asked, his voice purring like a content
cat's.
	"You startled me," squeaked the blond teen.
	Marcus looked over at him, almost as though he were sizing Andrew
up. His eyes narrowed and the roguish grin appeared again. "You seem a bit
anxious. My name's Marcus. And you are?"
	Andrew was a bit flustered, partially due to the fact he wasn't
sure how to react, and partially because his body did. His face flushed
once again as he tried unsuccessfully to keep from getting hard. "I, um
. . ."
	Marcus raised an eyebrow, apparently amused at the other's
self-conscious behavior.
	"I'm Andrew." He thrust his hand out towards Marcus.
	The pale skinned youth tugged on his pants, again emphasizing his
crotch. He pulled a hand out a pocket and grasped Andrew's. "See, a simple
exchange of names, and we're no longer strangers."
	Andrew felt a thrill race through his arm that went straight to his
groin. He shifted his weight, trying to avoid being obvious in adjusting
his hardened prick. He couldn't figure this guy out. It was as though he
knew just what signals and motions to make just to get him to react. Or as
if he was projecting some kind of presence. A part of his mind told him to
resist, and with a bit of mental fighting, he began to regain control. Then
Marcus did something that destroyed all of his defenses.
	In a graceful rush, Marcus had his arms around Andrew and was
thoroughly kissing him. Andrew immediately melted. If he had felt a thrill
from just shaking hands, he could only describe this new sensation as total
ecstasy. He had never kissed a guy before, no matter how much he had
desired to. Oh, he had kissed a few girls he "dated" in school, but they
didn't compare to this. There was no controlling his body now, either; it
was freely reacting. Then, it was over.
	Andrew stood there for a moment, his eyes closed and mouth still
half open as though still in the process of kissing. He heard his voice
being called, as though from a long distance away. He hmmed and began to
slowly opened his eyes.
	"Andrew?"
	"Yes?" he answered with a huge grin.
	"Are you okay?"
	"I'm great," he sighed, his eyes still slightly out of focus. Blood
was pounding thunderously through his erect cock, which he felt was pressed
against the other's.
	"Maybe you need some time alone?"
	He was shocked out of his reverie as he felt Marcus move
away. "What! Huh?"
	There was a musical laugh, and he heard Marcus state, "That was
fairly articulate."
	"I'm sorry," he apologized, feeling flustered and more than a bit
embarrassed once again. What came over me?
	"No problem. Look, not to kiss and run, but I have to meet
someone. What are you doing Wednesday evening?"
	"Uh, I have graduation that night, then the after party . . ."
Andrew trailed off, still confused.
	"Great," Marcus interjected. "How about skipping the party, and
meeting me for a private party?"
	"Sure . . ." Uncertainty colored his reply.
	"Meet me at Iggy's Headshop after you get out of the ceremonies. Do
you have a car?" Marcus asked as he pulled something out from his
pocket. It was a silver (go figure) necklace with a pendant in the shape of
a lily blossom.
	"Uh . . . no?" The confusion he felt helped to get his raging hard
on under control. Well, that is, until he felt Marcus' fingertips brush his
tanned neck while placing the necklace over his head. Everything seemed to
be blurring by at a hundred miles an hour.
	"Well, take a cab there, I'll be waiting." He began to hurry off,
stopped, and then ran back. He grabbed a hold of a very bewildered Andrew
and kissed him thoroughly again. Then, he was gone.
	Andrew fell to the ground, too stunned to really do anything. For
several minutes he sat there, his head spinning with disconnected
thoughts. I have a date . . . I think.  "I have a date, with a guy."
	"Oh, shit!" he shouted as he leapt to his feet. "I have a date,
with a guy!"
	It was about then that he fully realized what had happened. I don't
even know who he is. Why did he come so strongly onto me? How did he know I
was even gay, for Christ's sake? And why the hell did I react so strongly?
He held the shiny, silver pendant up to look at. As he glanced at it, all
he could think about was Marcus' roguish looks, the passionate kiss, and
the strange, familiar feelings he had inspired when Andrew had first seen
him.


<Chapter 2 to follow soon. I realize this part was a bit slow, but I needed
to set things up. And yes, there was lots of teasing and no sex, but what
can I say, I like to blue ball guys. ^ _^ . I appreciate any creative
critiquing, as well as comments. As stated before, Flamers will be
ignored. Write to pagangamer@yahoo.com .>