The Call: side story #1: P**sed about Prophecies

The Call: side story #1: P**sed about Prophecies

The woman sat in a busy cafe, sipping coffee as she worked. She was taking up the only large table, meant for six, yet no one asked her to move. Before her was a rubbing from a cuneiform tablet, three Polaroids of cave drawings, multiple books of various ages and bindings, a graphic novel, a scroll, a thick memo pad that was woefully blank, and a cheap plastic ink pen with the end chewed to bits that never ran out of ink. Ever. \"I loathe prophecies!\" She cursed in no less than seventeen languages while the bird picked at a scone. No one noticed the bird but the woman. \"What ever happened to itemized lists? Now that is record keeping. We\'ve wakened not a one of them and we haven\'t even found them all.\"

The bird hopped over to look down at the memo pad. \"What have we gotten?\"

She picked up the pen, wrote down a list. \"The Lady and the Lord -- why can\'t they have proper titles like the Queen of Air and Darkness or the King of Water and Light, hm? -- are in the same town with the Rosy Maiden, Lord\'s Bane, Beloved Brother, Lost King, Wolf King, and the Stone Coyote. The Warlock, whoever that is, isn\'t far from there. We\'ve found the Wizard here and the First Child of Man --who the hell came up with these names, this has grown quite ridiculous -- and a bushel of the other brothers. Even if he was cursed, you\'d think he could have plowed a few less fertile fields. We\'ve still got to find the Plague Son and Savior Daughter, though they are together somewhere near a swamp. The Three will happen along all on their own and we ought not have to deal with the Sewing Circle. That\'s about the most appropriate name in the lot.\"

The bird peered out the window, then squawked as he saw their target. He hopped onto her shoulder and she hurried raked her curls out of her eyes and plastered a smile she hoped was more mysterious than annoyed onto her face. A skinny young man in wire-rimmed glasses and with the thick mop of badly-trimmed black hair walked down the sidewalk, frowning and peering nervously at the people passing him. The bird chuckled dryly, \"We\'ve made him paranoid.\"

He looked in the window, not seeing them, compulsively rubbing at his nose and sniffing. She laughed, \"I wonder why!\" She whispered a Word and then his eyes snapped back to them, seeing them. His eyes widened and he was ready to do... something, but she whispered another Word. A man passed in front of the window between them and suddenly he couldn\'t see her. He shook his head furiously, then stalked down the street as fast as he could. Thirty seconds later, a lovely young woman who could not be placed as belonging to any particular people of any continent walked past, her dark eyes covered for a moment by wavy black hair. She tossed it back out of her face, glanced into the window at the two of them, seeing only her own reflection. They repeated the performance on the woman and her brows drew together. She frowned softly and continued walking down the street. \"She\'s much harder to rattle.\"

The bird ruffled his feathers, \"Aye, but she\'s the creepiest of the lot so far. I suspect they are only going to get worse.\"

She raised a brow. \"Really? I find the Wizard to be the worst of the lot thus far. Come. It is time to brave the swamps.\" She sighed, gathered her things, and walked out, wondering why she could almost feel her mother\'s interference already.