Charles and the Stone

We had been in the Norbrook for a few days, the party at Lord Robins manor just fast approaching. I sat in the room I shared with the starlight beauty, who slept peacefully in the bed adjacent. The iridescent eyes of her familiar boring into my soul. Friendly enough when she was awake, the cat fiercely guarded his mistress during the night. He had nothing to worry about; I had other things to occupy my thoughts.

Moonlight shown through the window and washed over the grey stone that I passed from hand to hand. The old gods,  I thought. The ones cast from the pantheon that should have ceased to exists once starved of power offered up through prayer and sacrifice. Yet I hold proof, I felt proof, and I saw proof when poor Killian foolishly stuffed his stone on the back of his neck. They live, they are worshiped and they are growing in strength.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes with one hand, unable to set the stone down. And this compulsion to keep it with me...is disturbing. In my spare moments I had tried to leave it but when I thought I had put it down, unwittingly I would find it in my hand instead of where I had left it. I had tried to throw it away and ended up playing catch with myself.

What do you want from me?

What do you want from, ME, is the better question.

What the...what do you mean?

You felt useless in the fight with the clergyman.  No, don't even try to deny it, your frustration is written on your soul. I can help you with that, and so many other things, although it comes with a price.

What do you mean by "price."

What I offer is a trade, really. I give you what you want and in exchange you take what I give you. It will cost you a piece of your mind, not a big piece, but a piece, but you will see things more clearly for it after.

Will it hurt?

Yes.

Will I be stronger?

Yes.

Will I be better able to protect Killian?

Yes.

You could be lying, you are The Trickster after all.

Yes I could be lying. But realize that you are one of my only links to this world... you are precious to me.  You seek to understand so much, don't you want to know more?

Will my will still be my own?

Yes.

I accept. Help me to be stronger.

Your reliance on the instrument handicapped you during the fight. You are a man of words and act not of silly ditties strummed out on hollow wood. Open yourself to your full potential and break from the chains others placed on you out of "convention."

The room reeled and it felt as though a shard of ice was wedged into my mind. I realized that the way I had been taught to wield my abilities was wrong and that I did not need the tools I had been told were required to perform.  But I also saw so much more, I saw the world where this God "lived" and I shuddered involuntarily from the vile landscape but could not look away as all these images projected straight into my mind.

Trying to regain control I whispered, "I am an actor, the world is my stage and I will make them all believe the role I portray."  As I uttered those words I felt my mind shift and images filled me, images that were impossible, images that were too grotesque to repeat, and images that I knew would haunt me forever.  I was stronger, but I also was... weaker.

This is my price....

And all the while the cat's eyes bored into my soul.