The Collector's Tale - Part I of III

By Dracos Dragon.

(This is a short monologue about the Collector, who appeared in 'A New Age Of Darkness' and 'Strangers'; it acts as a story between both tales and will be part of the character development arc of Dracos and Kol-qu-han in 'A New Age Of Darkness 2' when it begins. Once again, this is a monologue; it is not a plot thread.)

One of the Possibilities blossomed, turning from gray-blue to an iridescent yellow. From it steps a figure draped in black robes, carrying a corpse that is swathed in purple tendrils, obscuring the body's features. The robed figure's first steps are hesitant; he stumbles from step to step and then, with no discernible change, walks confidently forward. His arms drop to his side and the corpse gently floats behind him.

"Name," says a woman's voice.

"Qu-han." The clad figure stops walking.

"You look tired, Qu-han." It is a statement.

"Yes."

"Have you the charge?" she asks.

"No. Unfortunately I was unable to…"

"Who have you returned with?" the woman asks.

"Amsereth, of Balfas."

"You will deposit the body and then report to Kol-mer-han."

"Yes. May I…"

"This is process 1958; remember this, Lok-qu-han, in case you need seek supplication. Proceed."

Qu-han stares for a moment, unsure whether to say anything. The woman's voice does not speak again, and so Qu-han bows and disappears. Amsereth's body floats away.

Qu-han reappears on a busy street, directly under a tall tower of metal and glass. Around him flash the passages of vehicles, some only the faint echoes of other-wordly transits, others more real but just as insubstantial. Crowds move past him, and because Qu-han has spent much time in Sosaria of late he is unable to focus upon what he is seeing. Only force of habit directs him into the Ministry building and through the glass doors. Here, in the quiet, his mind begins to think.

The foyer of the Ministry of Collection is empty and minuscule. Qu-han walks over to a wall and places his hand upon the unadorned steel. Closing his eyes he feels himself drawn through the building, up levels and through portals, until such time that he opens his eyes and finds himself in a waiting room, sitting on a plush sofa, looking at a closed wooden door.

You look tired and worn out, Lok. What has made one of us so lowly?

The intended target wiped the world of Sosaria free of ether; I was unprepared and so was affected, Qu-han broadcasts.

Canny, for a Class 3.

Mondain was operating under special circumstances at the time.

The three manifests of emotion. Yes, I suppose that could be a mitigating factor. Are you up for discussion?

Yes, I think so, Qu-han broadcasts.

Then you can go in. Kol-mer-han will not be pleased to see you. We'll talk later. The mind-voice fades.

Qu-han stares at his feet for a few minutes before he has the courage to stand and reach for the door. As he passes through the portal his hand sweeps over a bland box on the wall. Qu-han smiles briefly. Very briefly.

Beyond the door lies a small office crammed with artifacts. Each one of them is exuding magic. Relics, tools, children's toys, they scatter the office and cause the very fabric of what Qu-han is seeing to fracture and reform. A lich, frozen in time, stands beside the large desk where the Kol is seated.

"Lok, sit down." The Kol glares at him.

Qu-han bows and takes a seat.

"Lok-qu-han, what am I to do with you?" The Kol's eyes are not kind. "You've caused us more trouble in one journey than your entire time as a novice." The Kol's face breaks into an unkind smile. "Of course some of us always suspected you were playing it safe to get far enough into the Order." The Kol becomes silent.

Qu-han realizes that he is expected to speak, but is not sure what he is meant to be saying. "Kol…"

"Quiet." There is no pretense of civility on the Kol's face now. "Listen closely, Lok, as you won't be hearing much from my Order in the future, and you're going to want to burn my words into your memory so you can learn from your mistakes." The Kol whispers and the desk shrinks in width so that the Lok and the Kol are almost face to face. "You were sent to Sosaria to collect the body of the mage Mondain or his host body, Dracos, should either die during the fulfillment of the Lakayo Prophecy. You were instructed not to do anything else. So what did you do?" The Kol waves aside Qu-han's attempt to say something. "You go and explore the new moon hanging over Sosaria, disturbing the Wisps and their investigation, and then you take the body of the Balfasian mage Amsereth, against orders. Do you understand what you have done, Qu-han? Do you? Don't answer, because you don't understand what you've done. I realize that you might argue that the sudden loss of ether caused by Mondain's last enchantment may have addled your young mind, but frankly, you have been trained for that kind of thing. You acted in a mercenary kind of way because you felt that as a Class Five in a world of Class Twos you had the right to; that you could fix whatever would go wrong, or more likely we would. Well we can't, and you should have known that. Prophecy Lakayo called for Amsereth to be defeated and his body to be collected either, depending on the manner of death, by the Balfasian Priesthood or by his rivals. Now neither will occur and it is most likely that there are a ton of legacy effects about to happen.

"Qu-han, because of your stupidity or pride, whatever it may have been, I am removing you from the novitiate of our Order. You are no longer Lok, and you will find your belongings have been returned to your family home where you will be able to collect them. We wish you luck in finding yourself a new placement, as it is hard enough for Collectors to be accepted in normal society; the stigmata of having left our Order will be greater. Realize now that this is your own fault, Qu-han. You went against instruction and interfered with the essentials of an Open Prophecy. It will take the Order some time to repair the damage you have caused, and it has been decided that it is best that you not be involved."

"It is all right, Kol-mer-han. I resigned my position as I entered. I did not want to cause any further disgrace to the Order." Qu-han bowed his head.

"Then you have honour, or you have intelligence. Either one goes some way to making your character better. I will speak with Youl-jak-math to see whether we can find you a job in the Inner City. Goodbye, Qu-han."

With that Qu-han found himself out on the street, his dark robes replaced with normal city clothes. He flexed his mind, and felt the limitations that had imprisoned his powers five years before replaced. Summoning a vehicle, he headed back to the family home.