Oir

All of the words I'm about to write are going to hurt my head.

Qom is passed out now from last night's battle. It was a full moon. Maybe not to you, but you may be from Earth-Alpha. Remember that our dimensions are shimmering together, creating inconsistencies. It's weird.

Argh. See what I mean?

Oir attacked us, if you couldn't tell from the title. There are only five classical elements. Plus five of us, counting Marcel. (Frank was our Tamaron, I guess. If that's not been said before.) So I think he's out of jikininki. But his pendant must almost be charged...

The battle. I should try to write that down as best as we could.

Under the full moon, Oir got bigger. His pelt was thin but it made him shine grey like a silverback gorilla. He didn't really have magic, but he was strong and quick and he could rip us apart. I'm trying to remember his words, but I don't think I could forget.

"I have drunk the fuschium balm, and worn the fuschium pelt, and urinated fuschium in a magic ring. I was at Gevaudan, Bedburg, and Bray Road. I am the vargr (?), Fenrir, Crocotta (?), and more." Derek's hands were shaking when he called him pretentious. I myself don't know how "ether" translates to "werewolf," but maybe ether just represents something beyond fire, water, earth/bile, phlegm, blood...a paradigm of something that can't be contained in binaries or even in a four-part system. Which in this case, at least for Oir's purposes, was a fusion of human and animal.

And he called himself a leader of the Abbey of Serpentis. Abbot Oir. Derek freaked the fuck out over that. Even against magic he hates shitty puns. And he charged forward, to what I knew was his death. The slash in his torso he got from the air guy wouldn't stay closed. But then a cone of wind yanked him back.

Qom stepped forward, and at once, four of the five elements were unleashed. Air shoved Oir back, against a tree; earth trapped his legs; fire burned his jaw away; and a stream of water started forcing itself into his lungs. Qom was...a monster. A worse monster, in a way, than Oir himself.

But ether strength broke the stone holding him, and his fist swung at Qom after a jaguar lunge. He made what looked like a wall of wind, and behind that, a slab of rock to stop the punch--but it broke through both and sent him back. He was out, but his ferocity was...addictive. You guys know by now that I don't violence, but--the myths we're trapped in felt stronger then. We knew this guy was the last. We weren't going to die if he was the final barrier before Tamaron. One last chance not to care about what this guy represented. Even if werewolves are the oldest monster, if that cave painting, The Sorcerer, is any indication. (Did Tamaron end up in prehistoric times? Doubtful, but chilling to think about all the same.)

I screamed something stupid about the O'Grady Mob, and shot all the bullets I had into the creature. A.S. did the same. Once we were out, Derek took out his knife again, and I was willing to break my bones beating Oir to death if I had to. If I had to do it to save my friends. If I can get personal, that's what the O'Grady Mob meant to me--even if I'm the only one calling us that.

Nothing worked. But we bought time for Qom to wake up.

And suddenly, something happened. Something impossible. We know he's been absorbing the magic of all the jikininki we've killed, but he seemed to grow like Oir did. Like he had Oir's ether powers, sent back in time. But if ether is anything from the beyond, maybe he was taking his powers from the future. I don't know.

One of Oir's own punches went through him. Qom tore his heart out, and that seemed to be something even he couldn't come back from. He died cursing us, but Qom looked down on him as he said them. And his eyes did all the talking. He became a master of magic, and that meant he could throw curses away from us.

Then he passed out. Oir did the thing that werewolves do in the movies, but in reverse. He slipped down and became a wolf. So we just threw his carcass away. No one will find it suspicious, even if he's a big one. We're all too tired to dig a fifth grave.

Don't know what's next. But Qom has started ranting in his sleep. I can hear him talk about the Saaamaaa Ritual, which we mentioned once, I believe. One of the books that was a vision into our collective futures. 

I don't know what else to say now. Well. Besides this: that I never dreamed I'd end up on the side of magic, even though I always wanted to believe in a secret world.

I can't say I look forward to what comes next. Magic is far more shadowy that I could ever have imagined. And the shadows--they aren't as fun as they were when we were kids.

That's a weak ending for this post, but as far as everything goes, I think this is just the beginning.