Date: Tue, 1 Apr 2003 21:42:26 -0800 (PST)
From: Liam Barnes <pagangamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Awakening: Chapter 8

This is a work of fiction involving the relationship of two young men (
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.

This story uses elements from White Wolf's World of Darkness series of
games. Mage: The Ascension, Magadon Pharmaceutical, PsychDiv, Verbena, Cult
of Ecstasy, Freak Legions, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Pentex, 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 its publication.

	Kate Sanders, Aaron Barry, and Stefan are the intellectual property
of Don Bassingwaite and White Wolf Fiction. For a more in depth treatment
of these characters, and a great read, pick up a copy of SUCH PAIN from
Harper Collins.

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

** I have also published this and the previous chapters in an MS Word
format on the Gay_Fantasy_Fiction group at Yahoo Groups.  I have started
placing artwork depicting scenes and characters from the story there as
well. Give it a look, or upload your own Sci-Fi / Fantasy stories. It's
totally free.  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gay_Fantasy_Fiction/ **




                                 The Awakening
                                 By Liam Barnes


                                        8
                                 The Calm Before


May 23rd, 2002
1:30 p.m.
Mike's Home for Youths, Castro District, San Francisco

	Stefan opened a white painted door, revealing a small room with a
full-sized bed and a small dresser. A solitary window looked out onto the
back courtyard, covered only by a thin beige curtain. Stepping inside he
swept a hand dramatically towards the room's interior as Marcus and Andrew
followed behind him.
	"Here it is; the bridal suite."
	His hands on his hips, Marcus gave the room the once over, and
said, "No, sir. I didn't like it."
	Stefan punched him in the shoulder. "To bad, fuckhead! It's all you
get." He gave the Cultist a broad smile.
	Andrew sat down on the bed, bouncing a few times. The springs
squeaked noisily as he did. "Yea! It'll be like a rendezvous in a seedy
motel. I'll be the innocent school boy, and you'll be the dirty old man!"
	Grinning roguishly, Marcus leapt astride Andrew, knocking the
blonde to the mattress. Holding his arms down, the dark headed youth shook
his eyebrows and said, "Do I get to dress you in one of those cute catholic
school uniforms?"
	"Oh, daddy!"
	Stefan rolled his eyes and coughed. "Okay, now. Remember, I have a
house full of teenage boys. The last thing I need is you two starting
something. Please soundproof the room before carrying on."
	Marcus groaned and rolled off of Andrew, laying on his back and
sticking his tongue out at the Euthanatos. "Spoil sport! Whatever happened
to the free spirited young man I knew?"
	"Bitch, my ass has never been free, except for two people. And you
ain't one of them."
	"Yeah, it did take me two weeks to get over what you gave me the
last time," Marcus said as he put his arms behind his head.
	Stefan threateningly held up a fist. "You don't really want to make
me use this do you?"
	The Cultist merely grinned. Andrew sat up, looking at Marcus with a
suspicious look. "Did you two actually do it?"
	"Once."
	"Twice."
	The statements came out at the same time. The two mages looked at
each other in surprise. Andrew glanced between the two. "So which is it?" A
mischievous smile crept across his face.
	"Once," Marcus insisted.
	"Uh uh, twice." Stefan gave a secretive smile.
	"No," Marcus insisted, sitting up. "It was right after we first met
at Pan's."
	"And then about a year later at the Pleasuredome."
	Marcus laid back down, waving a hand dismissively. "That's the
Pleasuredome. It doesn't count when there are over forty involved."
	"Forty!" Andrew sputtered.
	"Over forty," Marcus corrected him.
	"Pleasuredomes are gathering halls for the Cult of Ecstasy," Stefan
explained. "Members from the entire Tradition, as well as their guests, go
there to, uh, commune. It's like a nonstop orgy slash party."
	"We never do anything small."
	"Apparently," the blonde youth stated, dumbfounded.
	Marcus squeezed his thigh. "Don't worry, babe. I promise to be
completely faithful to you."
	Andrew could feel his sincerity through the spiritual link, and
tried to let his worry go. Still, the thought of him having possibly dozens
of other lovers was still fairly intimidating. Unconsciously, he began to
chew on his lower lip. As if to reassure him, the Cultist pulled him down
to his side, wrapping an arm tenderly around him.
	Stefan looked away awkwardly, and said, "I'm going to go get some
sandwiches for you guys. Why don't you get Andrew up to speed until I get
back." With that, he walked out and shut the door behind him.
	Marcus let out a long sigh. "Back to work."  He stood up, pulled
out an incense stick out of a pocket along with a lighter.
	"Where were you hiding that at?" Andrew asked with a smile.
	"Wouldn't you like to know," the other responded with a raised
eyebrow and roguish grin. He lit the stick and began to way it about the
walls, chanting in some Hindi. After a few minutes of this, he stopped and
placed the still smoldering incense into a mug sitting atop the
dresser. "There, now nothing said or done in here will leave the room."
	"So we're stuck here?"
	"Naw, it only effects sounds and small stuff, like smells and
such." He pulled out a cloth pouch and pipe. "Voila!"
	"Smoking pot," Andrew stated flatly, but with a bemused
smirk. "That's what you're going to teach me?"
	Marcus dropped down next to the other mage. "Not this time, sorry."
He took a pinch of some powder in the bag, and packed it into the end of
the metal pipe. Using the lighter, he got the mixture smoldering and took a
deep draw from it. He blew out reddish smoke with a sigh. "This is a blend
of several herbs that help to induce visions. All perfectly legal, too."
	"It's not going to hurt me, is it?"
	Marcus laughed. "I will never do anything that would hurt you." He
felt a twinge of guilt from Andrew. Not quite sure of why, he looked over
at the youth. "What's wrong?"
	"Nothing," he replied, trying to cover it with a smile.
	Marcus could tell he was hiding something, but didn't want to press
him further. That was the second time in the last hour that Andrew had
reacted strangely. He tried to put the questions in the back of his mind
until later. "Okay, then. I am going to take a hit on this pipe, then blow
the smoke into your mouth. You need to breathe in as I do, then breathe
back into me."
	"Kinky!"
	Marcus smirked at him. "I'm serious here. But if you really want to
see some kinky stuff I can do with smoke, I'll show you later."
	The blonde youth leaned back with a wary expression. "Uhuh."
	The Cultist took a deep draw from the pipe and placed his lips
gently on Andrew's. Opening his mouth, Andrew slowly drew in a breath of
the smoke into his lungs. With a whoosh, he blew back into Marcus'
mouth. Almost instantly, he began to feel light headed and relaxed. Soon,
he was on his back, looking up at the ceiling, not quite sure how he had
gotten there.
	Marcus was laughing next to him, but he really didn't mind; he
enjoyed the sound of his laughter. The smoke was forming hazy patterns in
the air above them, and if he looked hard enough, Andrew could swear that
he saw images within there motions.
	"Okay, now just relax. Let your mind focus only on what I say. Let
the feeling flow through you. I'm going to narrate and the smoke and your
own mind will help for the pictures."
	Andrew was flying. Marcus could have told him to squawk like a
chicken and he would have. "Sure," he mumbled.
	Marcus took a hit from the pipe and laid down. Blowing a thick
cloud of reddish smoke into the air, he began to speak. The smoke formed
images that changed as the Cultist narrated. Soon, Andrew felt as though he
were actually in other locations which the other was describing.
	"I'm going to tell you just what the Traditions are now. Now, this
won't be the full story on each one, merely a brief and somewhat
stereotypical description. Each Tradition is filled with a variety of
individuals, each with their own take on things, so don't assume that all
members are alike, even if they appear to be at first.
	"The first one I'll talk about is the Akashic Brotherhood." The
scene changed to the interior of a wood lined room that reminded Andrew of
the training program scene from The Matrix. "Now, don't think by their name
that they are all guys," the Cultist continued," There are a number of
women in their group. Some have suggested that they change their name to
something more gender neutral, but changes seem to come slowly to this
Tradition."
	Two figures in martial art gi's, a young woman and an older man,
appeared in the room. The two were doing what seemed to be slow moving
katas. "The Akashics prize perfection; perfection of the mind, body and
soul. They derive form the many Asian cultures. Think of just about every
martial arts movie to come out of China and Japan, and you get a pretty
good idea of what they're like. Yet, despite all their training and
meditation, I always felt that they forgot the soul somewhere in their
routine. It's like they assume that removing all emotions equals perfect
soul or something. But hey, to each their own."
	Marcus waved a hand over the two mages and the scene vanished into
the wafting clouds. It was soon replaced by the solemn halls of a
cathedral. "Next is the Celestial Choir. There are a lot of hard feelings
towards the Choir by the other Traditions. It's like a bunch of Catholics
were given the ability to enforce their beliefs with magic, excuse me,
miracles."
	"I thought that Christianity frowned on magic?" the blonde youth
stated.
	"Well, yes and no. Not all Choristers are Christian; they just all
share a belief in one Supreme Being. They view everything in the terms of
song and work for the day when humanity wakes up and sings out with one
voice. Their magic is based more on prayers and acts of faith." As he said
this, the interior of the church changed to what looked like a scene from
the exorcist. "They also are good at countering `evil spirits' and the
like. Of course, their idea of evil is pretty much anything that doesn't
fit nicely into their black and white world."
	After taking another hit on the pipe, he passed it to Andrew. The
blonde accepted it and took an experimental puff. He was surprised that he
didn't choke doing so. "I take it you don't care much for them?"
	Marcus shrugged. "I know that having something to believe in is
good, and they do some good work out there that most other Traditionalists
wouldn't. But they're so narrow-minded as to be almost sad. They're
completely the opposite of what my Tradition stands for."
	He smiled as the scene changed once more. "Speaking of which, next
is the Cult of Ecstasy." Suddenly, a cavernous hall appeared around them,
lit by streams of sunlight piercing through clouds of incense and
smoke. Moans and shouts were as thick as the air itself here, and looking
around, Andrew noticed they were in the middle of an orgy of the likes that
would have made Caligula jealous. Marcus reached over and grabbed the
youth's hardening member. "Thought you'd like that, babe." He gave Andrew a
suggestive smile. "This is the Baldor Pleasuredome. Well, one of the rooms
at any rate."
	"One?" the other stated awestruck.
	"Despite our reputation, the Cult isn't just about sex. Our
practices encompass anything that expands the human perceptions; touch,
taste, sound, smells, pain and pleasure. By living life to its fullest and
not hiding from any part of it, one can find enlightenment."
	"Sounds fairly simple," Andrew stated.
	"Yes and no," Marcus answered. "Part of our belief is to also try
new things, especially if you don't think you'd like it. The C of E is all
about experiences and the people who experience them. Face your fears and
try something new, because you never know what or when you might reach an
epiphany."
	The scene changed from the orgy to others of people doing various
things; dancing, swimming, watching movies, eating, even one of a man with
hooks in his pectorals hanging from a bar. Andrew winced at the last one,
reaffirmed in his belief that maybe the Ecstatics weren't right for
him. "But what about hurting or murdering others? Those are experiences,
too. You don't encourage that too, do you?"
	"Well, no. Obviously negative actions incur negative results. The
Cult has a series of rules that prevent such atrocities. We never force
others to experience something, we just make suggestions."
	"So?" the blonde asked expectantly.
	"So, what?" the Cultist replied, grinning.
	"Well, you gave down sides to the other two Traditions. What's the
down side to yours?"
	Marcus grimaced slightly, "Yeah, that whole thing." He let out a
puff of smoke. "Sensations are funny things sometimes. If they feel bad, we
avoid them, coming away with a bit of wisdom as we do. Good ones, on the
other hand are addictive. I guess if there is any flaw in the Cult of
Ecstasy, it is that we sometimes get sidetracked by the results of our
experiences; giving into self satisfying sensations to the exclusion of the
search for Ascension."
	There was a brief silence as the smoky images faded into the swirl
of incense. Marcus cleared his throat. "The next Tradition is the
Dreamspeakers." As he spoke, a darkened plateau appeared in the smoke. A
small fire roared to life amid the distant sounds of chanting and
drumming. "The Dreamspeakers aren't like most of the other Traditions, but
rather a loose collection of shamans and spirit talkers from around the
world who were lumped together by white European mages.
	"They are perhaps the oldest keepers of magical lore of the
Traditions, except for the Verbena. They speak to the spirits of the world,
enforcing the wills of the old gods and generally making sure that the
world stays spiritually healthy. Needless to say, most of these guys don't
care for technology or modern civilization, seeing them as harmful to
Gaia. They are also generally out of touch with the real world, passing it
up for the lands of the spiritual. I guess in a way, they have been hurt
more than any other Tradition by the Avatar Storm."
	"What is that?"
	"Hmm, how best to describe the Avatar Storm?" Marcus adopted a look
of concentration. "Do you remember back in the summer of 1999 when all
those freaky things were being reported?"
	"Yeah, the media said it was like a kind of Millennial panic or
something."
	"That was what the Techies wanted to be heard. Something big
happened, we think in India, something on the scale of a spiritual nuclear
war. Whatever it was, it went on for about a week. The result was a massive
storm in the worlds of the spirit and of the dead. In fact, from what I'm
told, the storm is still raging across the underworld. Anyway, when the
storm hit, the souls and Avatars of hundreds, or maybe thousands of mages
were destroyed.
	"Now, there is a protective barrier that separates reality from the
spirit worlds. We call this barrier the Gauntlet. If you want to enter the
spirit world, you have to cross the Gauntlet."
	"Like the surface tension of water?" Andrew interrupted.
	"Yeah," Marcus nodded. "Well, the fragments of all those souls and
Avatars are scattered across the Gauntlet, and anyone who tries to cross
over ends up horribly scarred, physically and spiritually. I've even heard
of mages having their Avatars destroyed while crossing the gauntlet, or
being killed themselves. It's like someone dumped a whole bunch of glass
splinters across the swimming pool, and anyone who jumps in gets cut up for
their efforts."
	"Ouch!"
	"Yeah, ouch. Now imagine if your whole existence centered on
dealing with the spirit world, and then suddenly you couldn't.
	"I'm going to try to be brief with the rest of the Traditions. The
next one is difficult to discuss without a lot of misunderstanding, even
the Cult has a lot of trouble and we have similar roots. Anyways, more than
any other Tradition, the Euthanatos are feared and hated."
	"Isn't Stefan part of that Tradition?" the blonde you the
inquired. "He definitely has this creepy vibe to him, and some other
uncomfortable things about him, but he's been nice to us. And he did heal
you."
	Marcus waved his hands in defense. "Hey babe, you're preaching to
the choir on that one. Stefan is a good guy, and you don't have to convince
me of that. I've known him for a while now, remember?"
	"So why are the Euthanatos so disliked? Does it have to do with the
jokes you were making earlier? About the voodoo and all?"
	The Cultist shrugged his shoulder. "Yeah, it does. The Euthanatos
are known as death mages. As I said, I don't want you to get the wrong idea
about them. The Tradition is rooted strongly in Hinduism, primarily with
reincarnation and the cycles of life and death. They seek out those who are
in need of having their pain eased, or who are close to permanently
destroying their souls."
	"Then what?"
	"Then they either help them, or if they can't, they kill them in
hopes that their next life goes better."
	 "Has Stefan killed before?" Andrew rolled over, looking
expectantly at Marcus. He could feel a tension through the spiritual bond,
and wondered if the vision he had of Stefan had showed him the faces of
those he had killed.
	Marcus looked cautiously at the other mage. Finally, he stated
flatly, "You'll have to ask Stefan that. It's not my place to talk of his
past."
	"I'm sorry," Andrew apologized.
	Marcus smiled, trying to lighten up the situation. "Don't be sorry,
Andrew. It's just, Stefan has had a very bad life. He lost a lot of people
he loved, including his boyfriend. There is still a lot of pain inside him;
although, he has gotten better at hiding it."  Marcus leaned over and gave
the youth a passionate kiss. Breaking it off, he smiled and stroked the
other's blonde locks.
	Andrew smiled boyishly back at him. "Maybe I'll talk with him
later. About his Tradition, I mean."
	"That'd probably be best," Marcus grinned roguishly. "Now let's
finish this off." He took a hit off the pipe and blew it into the hazy air
above them. Laying back down, the two watched as more images began to form;
this time a candle lit stone room appeared. Complex lines and archaic
lettering wove across the floors, mixed with multi-colored candles and
sticks of incense.
	"Noted probably best as the arch-typical mage, the Order of Hermes
is the best established Tradition. In fact, it was they who initiated the
gathering of the Council and helped to formulate the current terms and
concepts used by all Traditions, and maybe even the Technocracy.
	"The Order's magic is steeped in ritual and arcane lores. Their
grimoires hold powerful spells, and secrets long forgotten by the
world. Think of Gandalf and the Lord of the Rings, and just about every
movie wizard. Each has their roots in the Order of Hermes."
	The images flashed scenes of sagacious men in dark robes waving
their hands and chanting as ribbons of pure magic flashed from their hands
and staves. Marcus puffed out a large cloud of smoke in front of the
image. "They're also the damnedest and most arrogant sons of bitches you'll
ever meet. Even the nice ones tend to have superiority complexes."
	 The smoke reformed into a scene right out of some bad science
fiction movie. Tesla generators and weird bubbling liquids coursing through
glass tubes lined a sterile white room. Bizarre machines were stacked
everywhere, and at the center of all the chaos sat a woman in a white lab
coat wearing high tech goggles on her face. "If there were ever an award
for the most bizarre or eclectic Tradition, the Sons of Ether would win it
hands down. They used to be a part of Technocracy in the 1800's, but had a
falling out when the others decided they didn't like science being a matter
of opinion."
	"I don't get it," Andrew confessed.
	"Let's just say that the Etherites have a very loose definition of
what passes for science. It's like every B-grade movie mad scientist were
made real. I once heard of an Etherite that was working on creating a power
source based on slug slime."
	"Eww! Talk about your `S car go.'"
	"I don't think I will even dignify that with a retort. Anyways, I
think you can guess the problems inherent in this Tradition. Most are too
busy trying to work out their own pet theories to communicate much with the
outside world. "
	The scene melted from the warped science lab to a verdant
forest. In a small clearing several men and women danced nude in a circle
under the light of the moon. Their voices were raised in song and chant,
calling down the powers of the Lord and Lady. "This Tradition will probably
be one you can relate to, babe. Considering themselves to be caretakers of
the world and of the past, the Verbena hold close to their pagan
ancestors. The Tradition gains their power from life itself, be it blood,
sweat, tears or herbs."
	Andrew thought for a moment. "That does seem to be more my style."
	"I'll warn you, the Verbena is not for the squeamish. They accept
life in its full messy glory. I've seen some of their magick being cast,
and blood tends to flow rather plentiful in them."
	"What, they actually have human sacrifices?" Andrew exclaimed
appalled.
	Marcus chuckled. "Well, no. Most of the blood spilled is their
own. You know, pricking fingers, self mutilation. Their magick is very
primal, very ancient."
	"That seems to make sense to me. But I guess I will think it
over. I don't have to decide soon do I?" he asked a bit worriedly.
	"Babe, you don't have to do anything that you don't want
to. Besides, there is still one last Tradition for me to talk about." The
thick woods were swept away in a cloud of incense, revealing a dimly lit
room filled with computer equipment and empty junk food wrappers. A person
of indeterminate gender was sitting in front of a luminescent LCD monitor,
virtual realty gear draped over their body.
	"The last Tradition is a relatively new one to the Council, just
having come over in the late `40s. The Virtual Adepts were once a major
faction of the Technocracy, one strongly tied to their technological
pogroms. The V.A.'s specialty is computers. It was they who discovered the
Digital Web, and are its dominant rulers. Their ultra high tech computers
allow them to manipulate pretty much any information contained in reality."
	"Um, I know I keep asking all these dumb questions, but what is the
Digital Web?"
	"First off, Andrew, there is no such thing as a stupid question,
just stupid people. And secondly, the Digital Web is the spiritual
reflection of the internet."
	"You're shitting me."
	Marcus laughed. "No, seriously, almost everything has some sort of
spiritual side. There are technology spirits, as well as the natural
ones. Remember, it is the belief of the masses that keeps things going. And
how often have you heard people give their cars or boats, Hell, even their
computers personalities? The stronger the belief or emotion towards an
item, place or ideal, the stronger the spiritual energies invested in it."
	"Wow," Andrew stated. "So, you mean I could actually enter the
internet? That's so cool!"
	"Eventually, maybe. But I would recommend bucking up on your
magickal studies first. Traveling to other realities isn't for the novice."
	"The other youth pouted at the Cultist's words. So much for having
all of Reality at my fingertips, he thought. He took the pipe from Marcus
and took a hit. His head began to buzz again from the smoke. Exhaling, he
held the pipe away and looked at it. I wonder what's in this.
	The cloud bank of smoke was suddenly washed away along with the
images as the bedroom door opened. Stefan stepped inside, waving a hand
violently back and forth and making fake coughing sounds. "Fuck! When did
the fog roll in?" He shut the door behind him and set a plate of sandwiches
on the dresser.
	"Hardy har-har," Marcus intoned dryly. "I was getting Andrew caught
up on all the neurotic cousins he has just inherited."
	"And all the drugs he's missed the last several years, too?" the
Euthanatos smarted off with a grin.
	"That comes later," the dark haired youth retorted. He rolled over
on top of Andrew giving him a deep kiss. Raising his head up, he wiggled
his eyebrows and gave the blonde a roguish grin. "First I have to get him
up to date on the sex part." As if to emphasize his statement, Marcus began
to grind his hips into Andrew's.
	Andrew laughed and kissed him back. This close to Marcus, he could
almost think that nothing had happened this morning; that they were back on
the Funston beach beneath the cypress and willows. Then a thought hit
him. He pushed the Cultist back. "Um, Marcus? What happened to Herbie's
car?"
	Marcus blinked a couple of times. "At the beach still?" He gave a
sheepish smile.
	"Smooth move," Stefan quipped as he hit the Cultist in the back of
the head with a pillow.
	The dark haired youth turned towards the Euthanatos with a pleading
expression. "Stef, could you call Herbie for me? Please."
	Though he still smiled, Stefan's eyes gained a tightness that
wasn't there before. "Um, I think that since he is your landlord, and it
was his car, it might be best if you told him about what happened."
	Marcus let out a loud groan, rolling over onto Andrew. He buried
his face between Andrew's neck and the bed's thick comforter. "I don't
wanna!" His voice was muffled by the bedding and Andrew's laughter.
	Stefan slapped the Cultist's ass. "Up and at `em."
	With a playful protest, he got off the bed and flashed a smile to
Andrew while he walked out of the room. As the door shut, Andrew turned
towards the sound of an opening window. Stefan stood looking out at the
backyard, the curtains waving gently in the afternoon breeze. Andrew
watched him for a moment. He seems so sad, he thought. For a brief moment,
he thought he saw someone standing next to the death mage; a young man with
long blonde hair reaching out to touch him. The image vanished as quickly
as it had shone up.
	Andrew shook his head, trying to get rid of the last remnants of
the herb blend's effects. "Can I ask you a question?"
	Stefan smiled gently, and nodded. "Shoot."
	"Well, why did you choose to be part of the Euthanatos?"
	"I guess," he began haltingly. "I guess that you could say I was
born into the Tradition."
	Andrew gave him a weird look. "You mean your parents were mages,
too?"
	The laugh that came out of Stefan was anything but humorous. It was
a brittle sound, like glass shattering. "No, not really. It's hard to
explain."
	"Oh," Andrew replied simply. "Are you happy with them? I mean, if
you don't like a Tradition, can't you just convert or something to another
one?"
	"It's not that simple. A Tradition isn't like a club; it's a
collective of beliefs. If you don't believe in what the Tradition teaches,
then you aren't going to understand their way of doing things very well."
	"So what, you believe in reincarnation and killing people who need
to be killed?" Then, hurriedly he added, "I'm not meaning any offense by
that, I'm just curious."
	"It's okay," Stefan replied as he sat down on the bed next to
Andrew. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, wrapped his arms around them
and rested his chin on his knees. "Do I believe in reincarnation? Yes, in
fact I know it to be true. I have been traveling on the Great Wheel since
1543. No, that's not quite right. It must have been more like 1580's or
early 1600's when I came into being. The first one wasn't really me."
	"Wow, that's what, seven or eight lives."
	"Closer to fifteen. I never lived past twenty-eight, at least, not
until now."
	Andrew thought back to all of the youths behind Stefan in his
vision. They weren't his victims, they were his past lives. "I'm sorry. So
what changed this time, if you don't mind me asking?"
	Stefan gave a sad smile. "I Awakened, and I had help."
	"Kate and Aaron?"
	The Euthanatos nodded. "You see, I was originally created by
another Euthanatos named Saffleur, kind of as a surrogate for him. I would
live the events of his life up until a point where he would have died in
his life. Then, I would die for him. In that way he was able to continue
living without fearing Paradox." His face tightened at the memories.
	"But, if he created you as a separate person, how . . ?" the blonde
youth wasn't sure how to phrase his question.
	"How did it help him?" He laughed jaggedly. Andrew nodded. "He used
his mind as the basis for me, then in each life planned out the events to
perfectly match his own life." His voice grew ragged. "My parents and
brother died, and when I when to my grandparents, they died. The foster
family was next. I would then be forced to sell myself on the
street. Several of my johns would die, mysteriously of course. Then Mike
. . ." Stefan's voice trailed off as his eyes watered. "More would die,
until I finally would commit suicide. Over and over again, that asshole
would wipe my memory clean only to force me back into the cycle.
	"It finally got to the point where my reality was nothing but
death. I would get these attacks were my reality was being forced upon the
true one; things would decay, people would die. That was how Kate and Aaron
noticed me. They helped me to escape the cycle."
	"What happened to Saffleur?" Andrew asked quietly.
	Stefan looked him in the eye. Through the tears, his shone with a
cold, almost dead glint. "I killed him. When I did, I Awakened and even
gained some of his memories on how to work magick. If anyone has a
knowledge of reincarnation and death, it would be me."
	Andrew didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine the pain that
Stefan must feel. To lose everyone, over and over again could only be
described as Hell. He leaned over and placed an arm around the
Euthanatos. He felt Stefan tense for a moment, then relax and lean back
into him. "I wish I could take away the pain."
	Stefan smiled and said. "So do I. But I know it isn't that
simple. I have to work through it on my own. To do anything else would be
running away. Besides, now I can make sure it doesn't happen to anyone
else. I can do something to help others avoid what I went through, even if
it's just getting them off the streets."
	Andrew finally made the connection after the Euthanatos'
statement. The name of the youth home, housing former hustlers and street
kids; they were all Stefan's way of helping others to better their lives
and avoiding spiritual decay. Maybe the Euthanatos isn't such a bad
Tradition, he thought. Then again, that Saffleur guy was also a part of the
Tradition.
	"I think Marcus is coming back up the stairs," Stefan said,
breaking Andrew's line of thought. "Why don't you get started on the
sandwiches, since I'm sure you're starving by now?" The mage's enigmatic
smile was back, and there was no sign of the emotional turmoil that he had
been showing only moments before. Standing up, Stefan said, "I need to
finish some stuff around the office."
	"Thanks, Stefan," Andrew stated. "For the food and for helping
Marcus and me."
	The Euthanatos smiled warmly, Andrew thought that it may have even
been a bit fondly. "No problem. Pass the favor on should you find someone
else in need, that's the only requirement I ask of those I help."
	The youth nodded with a smile just as Marcus strode into the
room. The Cultist grabbed a sandwich and attempted to swat Stefan's ass as
the other made his way out the door. The mage deftly stepped out of the way
and grinned teasingly at Marcus. He waved good-bye and shut the door behind
him.
	"So," Marcus said as he plopped down on the bed. "Did you get your
answers?"
	Andrew swallowed what was in his mouth. "Yeah, he definitely gave
me some perspective."
	"But?"
	"But nothing. I'm still not sure about which Tradition I would fit
in with."
	"How about this, once we're done figuring out what's going on, I
take you to meet some more of my friends?"
	Andrew thought about it for a moment, and then nodded in agreement.
	"Good," the Cultist said. Then taking the remaining sandwich from
Andrew and tossing it back onto the plate, he pulled Andrew down onto the
bed. "Now then, babe, if I remember correctly, you have some catching up to
do!"
	With that, the two fell into a passionate embrace, kissing each
other deeply. For the moment, the two let the day's events fade into the
background, finding peace in each other.


<That's it for Chapter 8, I hope you enjoyed it. The shit hits the fan in
Chapter 9 as Magadon's sinister plot bears rotten fruits, and our young
mages find out just how closely tied up into it they really are.  Stay
tuned for `The Bad Seed' the next installment of The Awakening.

Also, if you like this story, try out my other story in the Science Fiction
and Fantasy section called `Shame of Caine.' Set in White Wolf's Vampire:
The Masquerade setting, the story details the fall of twin brothers, Gareth
and Marion as they are enter the perilous society of the Kindred.

As always, I love hearing from you all. Thanks for your current, and
hopefully continued support!

Love Liam ^_^ >