Sons of the Earth

Near Plymouth Colony, May 3rd, 1648

     "There's one thing I want to state for the record as non-negotiable," Merlin said. "Under no circumstances is your organization to go after Elias Story."

     "Out of the question," the representative responded cheerfully. "We will absolutely go after Elias Story, should the need arise."

     "The need is why we're doing this contract," Merlin reminded grimly.

     "Yes, it is. That's what I'm here to request. We need you to go after Story."

     "I intend to!" Merlin exclaimed. "I've been searching for him for some time now."

     "We're aware."

     Once again, Merlin was reminded that this strange shadowy organization had ways of getting information beyond anything even his magic could produce. He kept a straight face with an effort, determined not to let his emotions give him away. He didn't even know what he was dealing with in the form of this representative. Who knew what powers he had?

     "Let's start with introductions," the representative declared. "My name is John Smith, and I'm an Artifact hunter for the Foundation for Supernatural Activity. Now, I'm fully aware that you've encountered some of our hunters in the past, with mixed results. I've no intention of fighting with you, wizard Merlin. My ability is empathy."

     That was the last thing Merlin had expected. He blinked in surprise. "Empathy?"

     "Empathy," Smith repeated pleasantly. "I have the ability to sense the emotions of those around me. It's a useful ability because it cannot be blocked. You see, it's possible for someone, especially an Artifact like you or me, to hide their thoughts. But emotions? Those cannot be hidden. I know, for example, that you're afraid of me. You should be, but only because you can't lie to me. I will know it. I also know that you feel extremely protective of Elias Story. As he seems to be the only one of your kind besides yourself, that's not unexpected. But you need to know what's been happening with him."

     "You have my attention." Now he was really unnerved. No point in hiding it now.

     Smith smiled at him and explained. "Story has, unfortunately, lit a powder keg here in these colonies. Are you aware of the witch trials in the Connecticut Colony? No? Naturally, you've been here these past few decades, hoping Story will return."

     Merlin stared flatly at him. "Get to the point."

     "Of course!" Nothing seemed to alter Smith's sunny disposition. "The Connecticut Colony has already started killing people for the crime of being witches. The problem is that none of them actually seem to be witches or Artifacts at all. Something is happening up there, but we haven't gotten to the bottom of it yet." He waved a hand in dismissal. "I digress. My point is that the fear of witches is rampant. People are being tried and executed on the flimsiest of evidence. Story is right in the middle of it." He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "He traveled to the colony after the incident here, keeping to the outskirts at first and living as well as he could. But he apparently wanted the company of other people enough to risk going into town, seeking work and companionship. At first, everything was fine. He was accepted easily enough, proved a good, honest laborer, and made a place for himself. He might have married and settled down were it not for the unfortunate fact that, even after ten years, he hadn't aged a day. Then came an accident in the field, where he was seen to be charged by a bull. Yet when others came running to help, he was nowhere to be seen until poof! He was suddenly there, smiling and saying that he was alright. Now the talking began, for several other people had seen him directly in the bull's path, and all of them swore there was no chance he could get out of the way in time to avoid being gored. No one had seen him on the ground. No one had seen him at all until he suddenly appeared. Now, combine that with the fact that he doesn't age, and what do you suppose those God-fearing, or more specifically witch-fearing, people believed?"

     Merlin groaned and covered his face with his hands.

     Smith tsked and shook his head. "You see the problem. Story had a hut near the edge of town. The magistrate watched him enter it and came with some men to arrest him. The story is that they pounded on his door, heard him answer from within, and then a great wind came. When it passed, they burst into the hut and found it empty. There's been no sign of Story ever since. Now, if the witchcraft panic had been bad before...?" For the first time, Smith looked sad. "Things are ramping up in the colonies now. What might have ended as quickly as it began is now in danger of spreading through the entire colony. Accusations are flying left and right. Arrest warrants are going out, people who were pillars of their community are being sent to the gallows, it's madness. Meanwhile, there's no actual witch anywhere in that colony."

     "And meanwhile, Story's on the run."

     Smith nodded. "With every lawman and bounty hunter in the colonies looking to take him down. He was reported to have been spotted in the northern part of the colony, cornered in a barn. The barn was set on fire, but there wasn't any trace of him when the fire burned down."

     Merlin straightened angrily. "They tried to burn him alive?! Any man who tries that is a coward, and so is his horse!"

     "You may be right, as the horses didn't seem to be able to find him, either," Smith said, undeterred. "But it seems Story shares your distaste for that particular act. An unusual wind storm is said to have blown down the homes of the group leaders that burned down that barn. It seems your friend is becoming tired of running and is starting to fight back. And that is only making things worse." Smith looked somberly at Merlin. "You know the Foundation cannot allow him to continue like this. Either you take action, or we do."

     "I'll take action," Merlin vowed. "I'll stop him and get him to understand he can't interfere with people like that. In exchange, I want a new clause in this contract." He pointed a finger at Smith. "You can keep your clause about making a new contract like before, but I want one, too. I want to call on your Foundation for help if and when I need it. Do that, and I'll come when you call if you need me. I'll help you if things are more than you can handle, especially when it comes to another of the Son of the Earth."

     Smith's eyes lit up. "The Sons of the Earth! So that's what you're called. On behalf of the Foundation, I will agree to that. It seems a fair price to have a demigod's help in extreme need."

     "Demigod?!" Merlin made a face. "We're not demigods, Smith. We're the Sons of the Earth."

     Smith shrugged. "I'll use your terminology until we better understand your kind. So!" Digging into his pack, he produced more parchment and ink. "Shall we begin?"