The Balance Of Power; The Becoming

[Gwynifred]

ok - I wrote this story a while back and prairie and I were talking about it- so I decided to put up the first chapter, if any of you are interested in my NON FS writing... enjoy

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Chapter 1


   She walked thru the quiet suburb. Dusk was coming on, but she had little worry about that. The people of this city had learned to be cautious at dusk and in the night. Things too sinister for the daylight roamed the shadows of the night. But she held her own during the night as well, for she was a slayer. She had little cause to be worried with what the night held. The council had trained her well. Relentlessly they had trained her, caring not for her female fragilities, hardening her into the finely tuned killing machine that walked the path tonight. One wouldn't know it be looking at her, how deadly she really was. Mikel looked like an average young woman, fit and trim. She was tall, 5 feet, 10 inches and build like an athlete. Her muscles were strong and fit close to her under pale skin. Her long light auburn hair was braided down her back and hung to her lithe waist. Her eyes were a point of weakness in her, being light, sky blue, she didn't see as well at night as she ought to, in her opinion, but her other instincts kicked in to make up for what she felt her eyes lacked.  She shunned the sun, as much out of necessity as of habit. Mikel had never tanned, only burned, and she learned long ago that the sun damaged her in too many ways, so she just as soon forgo all the fun in the sun bullshit she heard about on the TV and in the media. Being that the creatures she hunted were night stalkers, this didn't give her time or desire to be a day person. She needed to be at her sharpest when her enemy walked. Mikel kept to the shadows herself. She had been taught that was the best way to surprise her victims. That's what they were, really. Being deamons made them no less victims than did the people they preyed upon were their victims as well. She had to see her self that way, she must forever think of herself as a predator, stalking, culling the herd. When she personalized her foe, she became weak. It all became too much to bear, because after all, she was killing, right? And out of everything she was, she was NOT a killer. She couldn't be that and still be able too look at herself in the mirror every morning.
   What had drawn her back this time? She wondered. It wasn't like this place needed her anymore, not with the new slayer here now. The city's new protector. Mikel had been unobtrusively moved out, replaced with a newer model. At 28 she was old, washed up, slowing down. The council decided to retire her. And what the council wanted, the council got, regardless of her desires or needs. So she had left. She knew she could run slaying circles around the new slayer, pert little Jesse, but her knowledge availed her nothing in the council's eyes. Never mind she had always succeeded any mission the council put forth for her, never mind evil appeared vanquished. They decided a new era had to come and she could not be a part of this new age of reason. So she moved out, moved on. Or so she thought.
   She actually enjoyed her freedom for a while. She roamed the places she always wanted to see: Rome, Paris, Great Britain. But even there, she was inexorably drawn to the darker things of the shadows. Too many times she found herself searching graveyards, walking thru the Paris sewers, looking for her old foes, looking for a place to fit in. Slowly she came to realize that The Council of Order had trained her too well, until she could be nothing other than a slayer. It was more than what she did, it was who she was, and now, too late she realized her path could never be otherwise.
   So, here she was. Mikel Riley had returned to her old haunt of Little River. As she walked thru the park, she felt that familiar tingle on the back of her neck that told her something inhuman was close now. She ducked behind an old ash tree and peered around cautiously.
   Off to her right, about 50 yards and closing came a vampire, running at full hilt, and behind him was Jesse, stake in her hand, and look of intent on her face. Mikel watched as Jesse caught up to the vamp, tackling him and rolling to a stop in a tangle of deamon and slayer. The vampire was a newbie. Mikel could tell by the look of fear on his contorted, snarling features. Probably newly risen tonight for first blood, only to find Jesse camped out at his grave. Somehow this one had gotten away enough to make a chase.  Mikel liked the chase, it made her feel powerful and alive, she grinned at the thought of vanquishing the evil vamp. Jesse, though, seemed all business, and after a roundhouse kick to the jaw of the new vampling, she staked him hard thru the ribs and watched him burst into dust and swirl away into oblivion. Jesse brushed her hands off, smoothed down her long blond hair, took a deep breath, whooshing it out and looked around to survey the scene of havoc she had caused. Mikel ducked further behind the ash tree and Jesse did not see her. Jesse wiped her hands down her pants and picked up the stake that had fallen to the ground with the vamp dust. She placed it in her windbreaker pocket and walked thru the park, patrolling for new evils to emerge.    As she walked off, Mikel watched her. Jesse appeared very confident and comfortable as the slayer. This made Mikel feel just a bit jealous, and awfully confused as to why she felt so compelled to return to this dump of a city that obviously didn't need her. Jesse had disappeared over the hill and Mikel came out behind the tree, sitting down at its base. Again she wondered why she came back. Was she just a glutton for punishment? She didn't know. All she did know is she needed to get to Phylene's place and hole up there for awhile. Maybe Phylene could help her gain insight into what had so strongly drawn her back to a place that wasn

[Gwynifred]

Mikel walked thru the rest of the city with no new happenings to stir up thoughts to make it to Phylene's just at daybreak. She trudged up the old plantation style porch and rang the doorbell. She could hear it gonging throughout the house. Shortly after she heard footsteps to the door and a small Mexican woman stood before Mikel in the entryway.
   "Senorita Mikel!

[Gwynifred]

Mikel wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Oh, I guess it was about a day or two ago, when I stopped at an all night diner to have a greasy bite. Listen, I am okay now.... why don't we check out that book of yours?"
   Both women pushed back their chairs as Rosa began to clear the table. They walked back into the foyer and turned right into the library. The library was a sight to behold. The room had a giant picture bay window with a seat framed in rich dark cherry wood, polished to a high gleam. A chaise lounge sat off in one section of the room, and a matching cherry wood desk sat opposite of the chaise lounge. The bookshelves ran floor to ceiling, two stories up, a librarian's ladder installed to run smoothly along to reach the books on the higher shelves. And the shelves were filled to overflowing! Giant tomes of uncountable age, new age spell books for the housewife witch, and layer upon layer of scrolls filled every nook and cranny, overflowing to the desk and corners of the room.  A round mahogany table sat just off center in the room, a crystal ball sitting center point upon a purple velvet cloth. Around the table sat 5 overstuffed purple velvet high back dining chairs. Where there was space between books, on various shelves were candles in a myriad of colors, placed singly and in candelabras.
   Mikel looked around and smiled, remembering prior days spent hiding here, searching through the tomes and scrolls, reading until it felt her mind would burst.  She never looked for anything in particular, just enjoyed the places the books took her.  She read for the pure joy of it.  It was relaxing to her, hiding here and not moving except to turn a page - drawing her in further to whatever world or tale the pages offered up.