mooooore.
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Laying Down Tracks
It was about a year later when I learned an important lesson about The Way. I had learned quite a few things by then, and the memories of my 'life' before were slowly trickling in. Little details and facts were remembered every day. But there was always more to learn.
For example, The Way wasn't really a world in and of itself. It was a parallel copy of any and all worlds, one step away from it. That's why I didn't burn in the mansion; the fire didn't follow me into The Way. It was a special dimension where the supernatural could go about their tasks and jobs without being interfered with. It's why the strange and magical things of the world were still secret.
That was the subject of my lesson that time. But let's not spoil. Let's get into the story.
Again, it was about a year after my decision to go along with the whole psychopomp gig. And it was a pretty fulfilling job, as I vaguely remembered it being in the 'world before' that I kept getting vague memories of. Talking with my passengers was pleasant, and I felt a little warmer with every successful journey. There were a lot of waiting customers though, and I was only one guy, but eventually I'd clear them out and send them along their way. It wouldn't take too long, and I certainly didn't mind.
It was after a longer journey, after returning back to the normal world, when I noticed something...off. More so than usual. There was a strange smell in the air, a hair-raising sensation that made me feel as though I was being watched.
I closed my eyes, focused for a moment, and opened them again to find The Way back in place. The beginnings of night were exaggerated, putting the lake around me into a sorta penumbra, even with the way lit by one of my simple green flames.
This was what Agni was talking about back in the fire. All of us could draw the regret and lasting sentiments out of spirits, making it easier to guide them into the afterlife, and make guiding flames with it. Agni was apparently much better, as all I could do then was make a small ball of fire over my hand.
But that tiny sprite sufficed and illuminated my way as I returned to the opposite shore. "What's going on?" I wondered out loud, engine low. I'd never sensed this sort of disturbance before; it was nothing like the usual ghosts and specters. This seemed more...alive. Vibrant. But at the same time the presence felt more out of place here in The Way, and it felt like it was being rejected by it.
I got my answer when I got back to the dock.
It was an odd sight. My dock was generally full of waiting ghosts and smiling, if somewhat tired, faces. Human ghosts, mostly, though sometimes someone would bring along a pet or two or would ask that their pet go first. Sometimes the ghosts were a little rowdy, or they started something weird like the occasional party, but otherwise things were pretty normal.
Now, seeing a collection of wolves and humans, ones that were most definitely alive, was not something I was expecting.
"These aren't our hunting grounds man. I'm not really okay with being here...," one of the humans muttered, glancing to and fro with a tense expression. Pretty clearly on edge there. A few of the wolves barked in what I could only assume was agreement.
"I get it, but we don't have much choice. We can't let that bastard get away with what he did to us! That sort of thing...bah, I can barely even think about it without getting angry," another of the humans responded with almost a snarl. Again, there was a multitude of canines echoing his sentiments in their own way.
The first guy to speak up clenched his fists and grit his teeth. As I got closer, I noticed his toes were curling too; no shoes to speak of. And his clothes were ripped all over. All of the humans' clothes were. "Then what do about this stupid lake? Every path we take leads back here, no matter what we do, and the water...well..."
Mm. The waters of the lake, when within The Way, were anathema to the living. I'd seen people stumble into the water before, and not one ever came out. And with how The Way worked, I wasn't surprised that they kept coming up to my lake either. The geography of this place wasn't always linear, even if it was a copy of the real world.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and gave them a holler as I slowed down and cruised into dock. "Anything I can help you folks with?" I ventured, throwing them an uneasy smile.
They stared as if I was a ghost, which in hindsight is sort of funny. There was a good minute of silence between myself and the group of...whatever they were. A minute of me spent floating back to shore, then another passed as I roped myself to bay. "...well?" I continued eventually, raising an eyebrow at them.
The second man to speak, a burly guy in thick jacket and rough jeans, blinked twice before responding. "You...you're...," he muttered.
"The boatman of this lake, yeah," I responded while I leaned back, rocking the boat a tad. "From what I heard you were having trouble with finding someone?"
I was trying to maintain a straight, professional face there, but their look of confusion and possible fear was actually sorta amusing. At the time, anyway.
To my immense surprise, the wolves began...shifting. Morphing. Fur to skin, claws to nail, canine to...human. I blinked at the assembled crew of people as they all began to converse amongst themselves.
Well, no, people was wrong. These were werewolves.
You know, the original meaning of that word has been kinda lost in modern media. 'Were' is human. 'Wolf' is just wolf. Werewolves are traditionally humans that turned into wolves during the full moon, not manwolves or hybrids or anything like that. At least, that's how I understood it.
"Uh..." I started, not sure how to respond to the sudden mass metamorphosis. The second man, who I could only assume was their leader, stepped up.
"Your...people..." He seemed to struggle to find the right word. "Haven't been seen for ages, ferryman. This is your lake?"
"Yeah," I responded. "Don't get werewolves very often around here. Or at all."
He frowned, lips drawn into a thin line. "Did...did you happen to see anyone else pass here?"
I shook my head while I casted a gaze out towards the lake, which was eerily still. "No. Haven't seen any living people in The Way for a while now. But, well, you know how this place works. I could probably take you to the other side, and you'd probably find whoever you're looking for there."
Really nonlinear. The Way was a strange place. Intent mattered more than actual direction.
"Are you trying to entice us into death, reaper!?" someone shouted. There were murmurs of agreement, again. Really group minded, those guys.
"Just don't touch the water and you won't die," I respond calmly. "I've ferried my share of living people, I assure you."
"And how many of them were still living afterwards?" came the retort.
I frowned. "Not all," I replied, honestly. Some came here seeking closure, the final kind. Some didn't wait to die to go to the afterlife.
There was a rising tide of arguments amongst them. I half-considered just leaving with a few ghosts and going about my business, but then their leader intervened.
"Everyone shut up!" he screamed, and there was a strange undertone to his voice. It was almost howl-like, and it carried a sort of commanding tone within that nearly floored me. It certainly quieted them down. "I apologize for my pack, ferryman. Many of them are still new to this place, and they should know better than to disrespect someone of influence such as yourself."
I smiled. "No, it's fine. I barely even started this myself. But the fact remains that my lake seems to persistantly keep in your way, and I have the only boat around. Your call mister...uh?" It was then when I realized I didn't have his name.
"Grant. We're all the Gravelscratchers," he introduced.
I held out a hand in the friendliest way I could manage from down in my boat. "Charles Thane."
Somehow we managed to fit all twelve of them in my little boat, though sometimes things got a little bigger or smaller to compensate. Didn't have to make sense.
Grant had taken the seat closest to me, while his pack had taken the seats furthest. Fine by me, really; Grant seemed the most pleasant to talk to.
"I suppose he could've tricked me into thinking he was a ghost," I admit. "But I do the oldest ones first, and that would've been one hell of a trick."
"It's possible. He was trained in the old wicca, so he might have disguised himself that way," Grant stated, warily throwing looks out at the lake around him. Didn't blame him since it wasn't really his territory.
Putt putt putt putt. Took me a long while to find a good engine that still had that sound. It was almost therapeutic to listen to the steady beat of it. But beyond that and the splashing of the water under us, there wasn't anything else.
"What brings a bunch of werewolves to my side of The Way, anyways?" I asked finally. It was in my head for a while and I had to ask it eventually.
"Pilgrimage!" he responded immediately, and with a certain pride as well. "We've been following the traditional hunting path of our progenitors. It's a right of passage for us, one most of my pack wouldn't have had the chance to take."
"Oh?" I whistled out, steering the boat a little to the left. "Why's that?"
He puffed his chest out and grinned magnificently, despite the words that were going to follow. "We are the abandoned. The mongrels. The whelps and the rogues. I took these kids in so that none of them would have to know the pain of loneliness. What of yourself, ferryman?"
He kept calling me that despite knowing my name. I hummed. "Woke up to this about a year ago. Was normal until then. You know there aren't a whole lot of us around? It's kinda sad how few of us there are. Sad for the dead, at least." And I meant that. Eons of ghosts just sitting around, messing up the balance of the place. I wondered if no one cared that it was eventually going to cause some sort of of major meltdown.
"...To be honest, Charles, you disturb me a tad," he admitted.
"Oh?"
"I'm on the boat of a spirit guide. I would be mad not to be disturbed. I can't help but get the feeling you're pulling me into the afterlife."
I smiled. "Smart. But don't worry. All I do is guide people to their destinations. The destination for most ghosts just happens to be the end of the line. All lines, really. Or maybe it's the start of a new line. Who knows? I don't. 'm just the driver."
We came to the edge of the lake, and I was a tad surprised to see a winding path there leading into a thick forest. Usually there was a house to leave them at, within which lied wherever they were supposed to go. "Huh," I quipped as we slowly drifted onto land. "That's weird. Seems like I gotta take you guys a bit further."
Someone called from the front of the boat. "We can take care of ourselves, thank you." There were murmurs of assent as everyone began to depart, but...
My head shook as I drew out a lantern I picked up from an antique store. A green lit in it a second later with only a thought. "It isn't over. This forest isn't here usually...something's up."
Grant was silent, probably in thought. The murmurs amongst his pack got steadily louder as they all began speaking up.
"We've spent long enough on this boat, let's go."
I sighed.
"Comeon Grant, sooner we get away from this guy the better."
I held a hand up to my face and groaned into it.
"We can find our own way now, so thanks for-"
I put out the lights. Both lights. The one on my boat and the one in my lantern.
"Be silent." It was only a whisper.
The penumbra that permeated The Way exploded into full on darkness. You were lucky to see three feet in front of your face with any sort of clarity. Whatever complaints they had were silenced by the isolation and the shadows, the near absolute darkness that threatened to consume us like a tiny morsel, that clenched us like the claws of a terrible beast.
It encroached upon us. It advanced, inch by inch, making matter itself dissappear into an endless void. There was nothing there. It was nothing. It was doom, it was worse than death, it was-
I turned the lights back on.
The fires burned once more, and the ebony veil dissipated. That was exactly why we, the psychopomps, were necessary. For reasons I still wasn't sure of, The Way was just simply insurmountable in some places. There was always one way, and one way alone, to get past any patch of it. I happened to be the special ticket for this lake, and a bit further, so without me those wolves weren't going anywhere. It's why they were stuck at the dock, it's why the ghosts would never be able to reach the end without me, and it's why I still needed to stick with these guys.
I let out a breath and dismounted the boat first, past all the shocked werewolves. The display of this place's real danger, when my flames weren't lit at all, probably humbled them a bit. Just a bit. "And that's why I'm going with you guys. In my stretch of The Way, you'll need someone to guide you," I said simply. After dusting myself off, I turned and faced the strange forest, lantern held above me "Now comeon. I got a feeling the guy you're looking for is somewhere in here."
There wasn't a single word of argument that time. Though I swore I heard Grant chuckle.
A long walk followed. Grant came up to walk beside me while the rest trailed behind in what I vaguely recognized as a formation. "So what are we looking for, again, and why?"
He grimaced. "A traitor. We used to number more than twice this, but he betrayed our journey to one of the larger packs for the promise of a spot, but that was a lie and now he's on the run from us all. We need to find him before the rest, and he ran into the Hunting Grounds, so we decided to follow. Any more waiting and the Bloodsickles would have gotten him first."
Hunting Grounds was apparently the werewolf name for The Way. Otherwise, the explanation made sense. I felt a little weird leading a manhunt, but it wasn't my business. It was their's. On the other hand, there was something about this that bugged me. The logical result of revenge, especially amongst werewolves (or at least I assumed this), was something that meant I had to get involved.
"What's his name?" I asked, not looking anywhere but forward. Grant must have blinked at me for a few seconds, because there was a pause.
"Why does it matter?"
"I like to know the names of those I guide."
There was a collective halt. Everyone stopped while I took another three steps, still not looking anywhere but forward. As I expected, they had an issue with this. Why wouldn't they have an issue? When an opportunity presents itself, people take advantage. My presence provided the opportunity for the greatest revenge possible, to not give him the peace of the afterlife, and it crossed their minds just as it had crossed mine.
"You're going to ferry him across? The traitor?" Grant muttered. I knew what was following. I didn't really listen. "He doesn't deserve-"
Instead, I turned my head sharply and narrowed my eyes. The lantern dimmed just a tad, and the world around us dimmed in response. "What makes you think you have a choice in the matter?"
They all looked conflicted. Wary and on edge to boot. I had literally threatened all dozen of them without an ounce of fear in my voice.
A sigh escaped my lips and I gestured forwards. "Comeon. Not long now."
And without another word they followed.
We got jumped in the middle of the walk, now that I remember. It was pretty uneventful beyond the whole shapeshifting thing, and how they turned from a bunch of whiny humans into an organized pack of mankilling wolves within seconds. Of course, what had jumped us was a bunch of humanoid shadows, who dashed from spot to spot and could slice you open with only a touch, but that didn't seem to bother them. Sure as hell didn't bother me, considering I had the biggest light around.
It was almost like a dance, watching the wolves dash in and out and weave inbetween foes who were pretty content to do the same. One step in, one step out. Make a false move and you'd be cut up or mauled. It was sorta scary, but at the same time I got a sense of excitement just watching. Even after a year I only really knew about my part of The Way; this was the first of many views into the greater picture.
Of course, whenever something tried to go for me, it was met with fire and flames. And against a bunch of living shades, that's more than enough.
Some time later we came across a clearing after pushing past a number of vines. We took a bit to appreciate the sight, as it was peaceful, and without the sense of eeriness the rest of the forest carried. I got the distinct feeling that I wasn't in my zone anymore; I'd just stepped out of my part of The Way. The Gravelscratchers seemed relieved themselves, but Grant and I were already paying attention to what lay before us.
A single tree stump, and leaned against it was a corpse. Fresh, too, with a long wound through his torso. There was a trail of blood leading up to it that started from where we were; wouldn't surprise me if the forest had simply consumed the fluid after he left. And standing above that corpse was a ghost, looking forlorn and conflicted as he stared at his former body.
"Seems like you got your man," I muttered, stepping forward. The corpse was still, but the ghost looked up at me, confused, though there was a glint of recognition in his eyes. There always was. I smiled. "And it seems like I got mine."
There weren't any more words. I just walked back towards the forest with the deceased werewolf slowly trudging forwards behind me. I thought there would have been some sort of conflict when I decided to go straight through their group, but they simply parted and let me go.
Goes to show that no matter what you are or who you are, you gotta respect the reaper.
I didn't need to guide them any further than this. The Way ahead was bright and without the shadows of my lake; heck, they'd probably fair better around there than I would have.
"Charles," Grant said suddenly. I didn't bother looking back, but I did stop. My companion almost bumped into me; he really seemed out of it. I thought he might have been regretting something. They always were regretting something.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"His name is Joseph."
I smiled and started walking again, lantern bright and eyes brighter. "Comeon then Joseph. Journey back won't be too long. And Grant? You're welcome to take my boat whenever."
The darkness of the forest consumed my passenger and myself a second later. I would see the Gravelscratchers again, eventually. I'd come to see many other dwellers of The Way in the time to come, but for the purpose of this story they were the most important. Werewolves. Who woulda known.
They were laying down tracks for my experiences to come, I guess.