Jane’s Journey
—-

In the astral world, Jane’s soul was exploring. She saw the pyramids of Egypt in their greatest glory. She flew over Atlantis, populated by ethereal glowing balls, that she could only assume had once been something like human.

In this level of consciousness, she could move at the speed of thought. Was this alacrity in it’s first stages? She wasn’t really sure at all.

In all of these wild and wondrous places, she felt like an observer. No one seemed to notice that she was there, even when she tried to get their attention(which she did. Often.). Even without interaction, she was learning much by observing.

She could sink her soul down to the material realm and fly through cities. People using magic, or even attempting to, shot up lights like a beacon. Jane would fly to these beacons and watch the people. Sometimes it was someone walking down the street, and she couldn’t tell what was causing the light. Other times, people would clearly be focusing on an antiqued and mundane spell of sorts.

Every now and then, as she floated through the streets of large cities, people would see her. They would give her funny looks and walk off. Children would smile and giggle. Dogs would bark at her. Sleeping cats would send their astral selves to her hands, floating lazily in the air, until she would stroke their oddly soft fur. It was an odd feeling, petting these not so real cats.

Jane thought of all the Earthly places she had always wanted to see. She visited them one by one. She thought of places that had disappeared with time. She visited them as well. She was experiencing history.

When Jane realized this, she also realized that she was not bound by time here. She could watch the past, and to an extent, the future.

She watched as hundreds of men built the great wall of China. She saw the Berlin Wall torn down. Julius Caesar died a bloody death before her. Yeshua ben Yoseph preached his new ideas to a crowd of Romans and Isrealites. Years later a man named Paul would twist words and confuse people with the teachings of ben Yoseph.

Jane could see beyond that. She could see the tiny bluish-white lines that tied all of these people to their history and to their destiny. She could see that undeserved pain was sometimes necessary for the world to grow. She thought it was odd that the history of the world so often hinged on one person. One person’s self-sacrifice to appease the lonely astrals.

She was getting tired. Very tired. Astral travel taxed her physical constitution. She needed to sleep. She thought of her body and of Minus’ basement. She closed her eyes, and could feel the rapid movement. When she opened her eyes, she was not in her body, but instead, inside a large building filled with books. Thousands and thousands of books.

“Fuck. What? Where am I? Is this the Akashic Library?”

A booming masculine voice answered her. “Some beings call it that. But it is so much more. Welcome to my home, Jane De la Moore.”

She went silent with shock. Someone could see and hear her! She felt a sensation of shear excitement. If she had been in her body, her heart would be racing.

“I am the Keeper,” the voice boomed again. She saw a robed and hooded figure coming down a set of stairs to her left. “This is my home. You are welcome to use my library. I have expected you for some time.”

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #26
Jane’s Journey

And So He Walked
—-

They were roused from a light sleep around 7:30pm by the ring of Minus’ phone. It was Kotoko. Minus answered.

“What the Hell, dude,” Kotoko was clearly frustrated. “I’ve been driving around for almost an hour. The street you said you lived on. It’s not here! I’m fairly certain it doesn’t even exist!”

“It’s alright, Kotoko,” Minus seemed very calm, and this calmed her down. “Do you know anything about synchronicity?”

She started to answer, but someone was opening the passenger door to her car. She reached for her purse, scrambling for the mace.

“Hi, I’m Minus. I think you’ve heard about me.”

“How the.. What? Where did you come from?” She wasn’t as confused as she should be. It seemed almost normal that Minus was now sitting in her passenger seat.

“My place. Go ahead and pull out of this parking lot, and go the right.”

Kotoko did as she was told.

“There will be a road on your left, the sign will say, ‘King’s Lane.’” Minus was directing her to his house and Jane.

When they approached the street sign, Kotoko was astounded. She had driven by this area a dozen times, and there had been no King’s Lane. She was certain. But there it was. A gravel driveway. She turned on to King’s Lane.

“My place is the only house back here. You can park next to my truck. Jane will be waiting for you at the door. I’ll take care of the groceries.” Minus said as Kotoko parked her jeep.

He got out of the jeep and reached into the back seat, picking up some bags. Kotoko went to the door, where she saw Jane peaking out. Minus could see them hug each other, and the tears that followed.

Kotoko went in, and Jane bolted all the locks behind them.

“What about Minus?” Kotoko was no stranger to magic, but she was clearly confused at the situation.

“It’s okay,” Jane said through the tears, “he’ll meet us in the basement.”

They continued through the house and into the basement door. Jane turned all the locks and knobs, locking them in again.

As they went down the flight of stairs, Kotoko was surprised that Minus was standing there, pouring three glasses of wine. She could see all of the grocery bags on the small counter he stood next to, and the luggage full of Jane’s clothing was by an opened closet on the other side of the room.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kotoko. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Jane tells me you have interest in the occult?”

He reached into the drawer of pills and pulled out two tiny blue capsules.

“Take these.”

And Kotoko did. She swallowed them with a large drink of wine. She was startled again for a moment, as she realized that she did not drink and had never taken drugs. Why had she done what he said without thought or question? As soon as these thought passed through her, her mind was quieted. She felt calm, and relaxed, and at home.

“Wait, you’re a straight, aren’t you? You must be. Jane said you were good at divination,” said Minus. Both of the girls looked confused.

“Like, you don’t drink, or take any kind of drugs, right?”

“No.. I mean, yeah, I don’t do anything like that.. But I just did, didn’t I? Why am I not bothered or worried?” Kotoko tried to look stern, but she wasn’t really able to.

“Okay, no worries. Those pills. Not drugs. Not real drugs anyway. It’s a metaphysical relaxer. Opens your senses, and leaves you calm. No dangers or addictions. Now had you actually been into pills, I’ve got stuff around..” Minus trailed off.

“No, I feel great.. It’s like my soul let go of my fears and pretensions.” Kotoko was surprised at how easily she understood things, and how clear and fluid her thoughts were.

“You’re not bothered because it was me who gave them to you. Just like you weren’t all that upset when I got in the car seat next to you. I don’t really know why that is, but Doctor Mancini has told me things like that before. A lot of people have really..

“Anyway, just relax, we’ll fill you in and you’ll fill us in, alright?”

Jane and Kotoko nodded in unison.

The three talked for what seemed like hours. Then there was an odd, snapping feeling, and Kotoko left, and Jane went to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, Minus locked the basement and front door behind himself, and started walking due north.

Jane, Kotoko, Mancini, and Othin would all awake the next morning, around the same time, feeling unusually happy.

At that exact moment, Minus would see two ravens, perched on a tree older than the continent, and feel horrible despair. He did not enjoy this the last time.

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #19
End: Part 1
And So He Walked

Prelude to a Hanging
—-

Victor Mancini spent a very long time on the phone with Jane. He told her about synchronicity and about alacrity, about glamors, and conjuring. He told her the good and the bad. Each had a danger, now she knew them all. Well, that’s what she thought anyway.

When he talked about alacrity, he went well out of his way to implicate the dangers. Mancini said that normal people could usually never access it. He had seen Minus use it before. It was beyond his understanding how it did not tear Minus’ soul apart.

He convinced Jane that she should not learn about it yet. She was not ready. He told her that Minus might disappear without warning, even when he could be right in front of her. Mancini told her about some of the pills and powders in that strange drawer in Minus’ desk. Not all of them, but the ones she would need if she became lost, or if Minus left her alone.

The pills labeled ‘VM’ were made by Doctor Mancini. If someone took one, Mancini would feel the psychic waves and appear before them. The red pills they had taken at the bar were Disillusionment. They cleared the brain from almost all worldly attachments and allowed a person to see the truth of their surroundings. Alchemy was the first form of magic Minus had learned, and it was basically all he could still do with purpose and success.

She heard Minus waking, and told Mancini so.

Minus walked into the small office with a glass of wine and saw his old friend Victor Mancini as a ghostly figure, sitting on top of his computer monitor.

“Doc, what have I told you about sitting on the monitor? It’s gonna take me days to get all the ectoplasm out. Damn.”

He then told Mancini and Jane about his talk with Othin, and how he would leave later that day to find the world tree, Yggdrasil. Jane asked him about her friend Kotoko coming to bring fresh food and clothes, and he agreed this would be a good thing.

“Jane, Doc, I’ll be completely out of contact for about nine days. No way of reaching me at all. Jane, please stay here. I don’t like the idea that people are disappearing and it seems to involve the Mist. Don’t go outside unless you absolutely have to. Doc, will you keep an eye on her?”

Mancini and Jane both agreed to what he asked, and Mancini bid his farewell. Leaving Minus and Jane alone together

—-
(NOTE: This has us caught up with The Cost of Magic, pre-server crash. Brand new episodes start tomorrow.)

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #16
Prelude to a Hanging

Is It Worth It?

—-

Mancini picked up the phone after a few rings. He was in his study, relaxing after a hard day of astral projection. He’d been sipping Scotch and thinking about the problem of the two lovers. On the line was a female voice he had never heard.

“Doctor Mancini?” the voice asked.

“Speaking, my dear, but please call me Victor.”

“Hi, my name is Jane. I believe Minus may have talked to you about our situation.”

“Ahh, young Jane. Yes, Minus has told me much about you, and I’ve learned much more from the Akashic life books. You are quite intriguing, did you know that?”
“Well.. um.. no. I guess not.” Jane was stumbling over her words. This man was very elegant, and she felt a little inferiority.

“Minus… He doesn’t think. He just moves. Do you know how he can always make things work with so little thought? Minus’ mind, body, and soul are all tied in deeply with the Synchronicity Stream and the Alacrity Motion. He doesn’t even need to meditate. He steps forward and obstacles move away from him. He is that in tune.

“People like me and you, on the other hand, have to work hard to get these things on our side. Before I met Minus, I was just a sad, delusional drunk. And before you met him, you knew only some simple glamors, some basic theory.

“To Minus, the things that you and I know…. Well, they don’t really matter. He can pull from those other worlds with no effort. He effects the people around him in profound ways, without trying. Sometimes the effects are not pleasant.

“Before I say more, I need to know something. Do you really love Minus? Are you ready to suffer for that love? Because it will bring you deep sorrow. This is the point where you can leave clean. Forget all the craziness, and live a normal life. Or, you can stay, and do your best to help him. What do you say Miss De la Moore?”

“Yes. I love Minus. I’ve loved him through lifetimes and had no idea. If I suffer, it will not be the first time,” Jane replied.

“Then we have much to discuss. Are you at Minus’ desk? Look for a pill compartment. It will be closed, and labeled ‘VM.’ Take one and swallow it. We will then discuss your future.”

Jane did not hesitate. She found the small pill box easily and swallowed the oddly shaped pill.

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #14
Is It Worth It?

In Which Minus Dreams A Memory
—-
He runs across the roof tops. This city is dense and the alley ways are small. He jumps, falls short, dangling with a one-handed grip on the bricks. He let’s go.

Rive.

He hits the large, overly stuffed bed hard. Panting and sweating in his full John Constantine regalia. Suit, overcoat, cigarette in mouth, all dripping wet. His mind raced. Had his pursuers seen the rive he had opened? He didn’t know who they were, was uncertain of their abilities. Aside from the fact that they were inhumanly fast.

They shot through alacrity with a focus that matched his own. This was very rare. Understanding alacrity had driven more men mad, than had ever been able to run with it. The problem people have with the magic of speed is that after the first taste, it’s never fast enough again. Always trying for more. You can see perfection in the distance. And anytime you can see true perfection, it’s dangerous.

After a few minutes, Minus knew that they had not traced his rive. He relaxed a bit, then reached for some dry clothes.

***

Back in Jerusalem, the three men dressed in black, stood surveying the rooftops and alley ways. Wet footprints ended and never started again. They were confused, but not worried. He could hide all he wanted, but he could never out run them.

Even so, the Three-Headed Lion would not be happy with his extensively trained alacrity spotters. He had dug their souls from Hell, and trained them for a reason. He needed them in this war. This was not like the last.

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #13
In Which Minus Dreams A Memory

*****

It started off innocently enough, like most things. Especially things in Minus’ life. He often felt like the opposite of King Mitus, since everything he touched turned to shit, instead of gold.

“But it’s different this time,” he thought to himself. He always thought this to himself. He seemed to really like writing an internal monologue.

So, there he was: very happy, very stupid, and very drunk. What was different from every other day? Nothing. Nothing at all. Or so he thought.

It was near midnight, and after several pitchers, when he found himself alone, talking to a girl in her early twenties. The volume was turned down on the rest of the bar. The people moved in slow motion and sound traveled as if through water. Minus loved these moments, when he felt so very at home. These moments seldom lasted, and took much drink to accomplish.

The girl was cute, but young. Minus had already forgotten her name. But this time was different. She had that silken aura glow, like the girl that haunted his dreams. He’d seen her play a dozen roles in his dreams, but she was always obviously the same person. He could always tell by that bright white glow. She was a mother one night, a sister another, a lover more often than anything. In his dreams, Minus never looked the same. He knew who he was, even when dreams happened from odd perspectives, as they often do. And he always knew who she was, even when she was nothing like the night before, or any of the thousands of nights in his life.

This was a long dream. It haunted and beckoned. It tore at his heart strings and played death metal in his rotten soul. Minus was not a bad person, but a person consistently forced into bad situations. He couldn’t really grasp how at least half of his life had actually happened. But it had. Dreams through a Seconal haze. Hadn’t there been another dream-girl a few years(or a lifetime) ago? The Thorazine year that followed that instance had taught him that, no, there had never been a girl in his life with this aura. Even though his pineal gland would ram itself around to try and break free from the anti-psychotic’s numbing embrace.

But the pineal gland survived for moments like this. Brief glimpses at reality on the other side of the vale. And it shouted as he talked to this girl.

Minus fought a little when he felt the vertigo pulling him in. He was never very good at fighting this falling feeling, even though it almost always lead to pain directly. So he funneled down in to the synchronicity that surrounded this girl.

Her name, it later turned out, was Jane. Jane was 22, not really old enough to know better. Minus knew better, he just didn’t care. If Jane had known better, she would not have cared either.

——–

Jack.
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #1

What can I say that has not already been said? What can I do that has not already been done? Not a lot. But I press forward. Forward to greatness.

I tell stories. I weave dreams. Have these stories been told before? Sometimes. But I won’t forget. I don’t want to let the tradition of dreamspeak and folk tale die. So I perpetuate them.

Tell your stories. Tell your dreams. Inspire people. Move forward. Evolution is not just a physical theory, but a spiritual and mental fact. We must strive to evolve our minds and souls towards that highest goal.

Jack
I Listen.

Basic Ideology 101

Battle #4
Dreamspeak, Storywalk

————————-

Jack was down. Real down. Deep down. Jack had the blues.

You see, Jack’s wife had died recently, he had lost his job just days ago, when his sadness had started to affect his work. Jack was homeless(again), he had only enough spare change for a beer at the pub, and only enough sense to finally do it.

Things had gone too far this time. This was as low as it could get. Jack knew he had to end it. He could no longer stand the depression that sat on him every day. He went to the railroad tracks, a few miles walk from the pub. There was an odd crossing there, and he knew his wait wouldn’t be long.

Jack stood on that odd cross roads, and cursed life. He cursed himself. He cursed his wife for leaving him. And finally, as he saw the train light in the distance, he cursed God.

Jack closed his eyes as the train bore down on him, and cried. He could hear the trains engines getting closer. And then. Nothing.

He heard in the new silence of the night, a match strike. Jack opened his eyes to see a tall, slender man lighting a cigarette from the match he had heard so clearly. The man wore a dark coat, and possibly a tie, with a short brimmed fedora on his head. Jack knew from the fire in his eyes and words that he was The Devil.

The Devil let out a large exhale of smoke, and said, “Jack, I hear it’s bad down at the factory. Let 20 more go today. Your wife’s recent passing is unfortunate indeed.”

Jack tried to speak, but could not. He had stopped crying. Now his teeth were grinding.

“I can make things better, Jack. It’s what I do. I know what you’d do above all things. If anything could ever have made you happy, it would have been to sing. To sing with soul. To sing like the legends. To sing the blues.”

“The drink has taken my wits..” Jack finally managed to murmur.

“Jack, I can save your life. I can give you the life you always wanted. I can make you a legend. And you can do it for all eternity. You haven’t lived a good life, Jack. If you take my offer, I get your soul. If that train hits you, I still get your soul.”

No one knows if Jack took the offer. But everyone knows he died that night.

—

-Jack.
I Listen.
I Travel.

You see, this goes very far back. As long as can be remembered, great blues musicians have had legends told about them. Legends about how their life hit the lowest of low, the saddest of the sad, the deepest of depressions, and often, they went to the railroad tracks to kill themselves.

While awaiting a train to end the misery of miseries, these men were approached by the Devil, who offered to give them fame and fortune and abilities with music that could be surpassed by no man in their lifetimes, in exchange for their immortal souls. As people are weak, they often agreed.

The part the Devil often forgot to mention in the contracts and pacts is that despite their fame and abilities, these musicians would never lose this deep despair they currently felt. Thus was born the name, The Blues Devil. He is now often sought, and seldom found.

Jack.
I Listen.
I Travel.

-Jack
I Listen.
I Travel.