SleepWalker

Chapter 12

Darcy fell back into her chair, her mind still reeling from what Michael had told her. You're dead.
"You've got to kidding," she said. "I...I can't be dead! I'm right here!"
"Let me explain," said Michael. "The Inkbloods drove Morpheus away, but they arrived too late. You were already mortally wounded. So I did the only thing I could do. I brought you back."
"How?" She was shocked at the casual way in which he referred to her resurrection. As if bringing a dead person back to life was just a walk in the park.
"Well your soul hadn't passed on yet," he said. "Also there was something strange about it, something strong, almost as if it had been blessed by a very powerful being. Anyway, I salvaged your soul and the Inkies fashioned you a new body."
"So I'm inside an Inkblood?" She asked.
"Not exactly," he scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Inkbloods have more hidden secrets than you can imagine. Hell, even I don't know everything about them. Their forms are mutable and they have a basic psychic link to each other and to me. But their greatest gift is their mutable nature."
He paused to rub an Inkie behind its ears.
"They can change their forms, assume different shapes. It takes effort and once it is done it'll take a lot of power to change back. The Inkies created a body for you using one of their own by transferring its consciousness into their hive mind and modifying its body to look like yours."
"I didn't get a word you just said."
"Inkies make Darcy new body," he said. "Savvy?"
"I'm not stupid," she snapped. "So a new body huh. Exactly the same."
"Yeah," he replied. "Well not exactly. I might have suggested a few cosmetic modifications."
"You know what?" She said. "I don't even wanna know."
They sat in silence for a while as Darcy processed this new information. She was dead. Morpheus had killed her.
No, she thought. Mortmalus killed me. She balled her fist in rage. The Devil had taken away everything she had, her family, her only friend. Even her life.
"Okay," she said. "What now? What do I do?"
"I don't know," replied Michael. "I made a deal with Morpheus to save your ass if he gets, um, compromised. That's the only reason you're alive. I really don't care what you do next."
"At least tell me what I am," Darcy pleaded. "Help me make sense of all this. What kind of monster am I?"
"Fine," Michael sighed. "The thing you need to know about the universe is that balance is everything. Angels and demons, Good and bad, carrots and cheese, blah blah blah. The two defining forces of magic, and the universe, are Order and Chaos. There's really no good or bad in magic just some that are safer and some that are not."
"But what does that have to do with me?"
"I'm getting to it. Long ago, at a council of god heads, all the heavenly forces from all the religions you can think of made a joint decision to protect humanity from the darkness. For this they created the Barrier, an invisible wall that changes mortals' perception to hide monsters from their vision. Without the fear of humans, these creatures were eventually weakened. They still continued to exist but at only a shade of the power they once held. To maintain balance, the gods also withdrew from the world, swearing not to directly influence mortal lives. But some humans retained the ability to see monsters in at least a semblance of their true forms. These humans became hunters and prophets, protectors of humanity.
"But the Angels of Heaven had another problem on their hands. The Barrier didn't prevent Demons from crossing over into the mortal world. Encouraged by the gods' withdrawal from mortal matters, they started invading more and more."
"Didn't the Barrier weaken them?" Darcy asked. "Or didn't the hunters hunt them down?"
"They did," he continued. "But their sheer numbers were too much for the hunters to keep pace with. Demons are a part of almost all cultures. This made them more powerful than creatures like, for example the skolopendra."
"What the hell is that?"
"Exactly," he said. "So anyway, left with no choice, the Angels made a desperate gambit. They made deals with a few chosen hunters giving them superhuman powers and tasked them to protect the world from demonic incursions. These hunters were called the Keepers. There are only about six or seven in a generation, each chosen to combat a specific and powerful threat."
"So they're like Heaven's super soldiers."
"In a way, yes." He nodded. "And that's what I think you are."
"What?" Darcy asked incredulously. "I'm no super soldier. I couldn't even save myself, forget save the world."
Michael shook his head. "You have no idea what you're capable of," he said. "My first clue was when I used my revelation spell on you. You could read the rune on your skin couldn't you?"
"Yeah, but how does that make me a Keeper?" She asked.
"That was an angelic symbol," he said. "Only a few creatures can read them without training. My next clue was in the prophecy Morph found. It talked about a Keeper who would either save the world or doom it. Do you see any other Keepers around here?"
"No but..."
"My final clue was when I found your soul. It was remarkably strong and pure, more than any human soul."
Darcy didn't know what to say. She couldn't be a Keeper. That was like telling her she was a wizard. If she had been a Keeper, why was she dead?
"That said," Michael continued. "You are unique. You haven't displayed any of the powers of a Keeper, except for your ability to see through the Barrier. At first I thought it was because of your bloodline. But then I found out that you had been this way from birth."
"So I was born this way?" She asked sarcastically. "Yeah that's about right, I've always been a freak."
"That's not what I meant," he said. "Like I said, Keepers are results of a personal contract with an Angel. You make the choice to be a warrior of Heaven. But it seems like you never got that choice."
"So basically," Darcy said. "I'm a warrior of heaven, without any of the sweet powers that come with the job. I have to face and defeat the Devil, who wants to rape me the first chance he gets. Not to mention, my only friend is now his mindless henchman."
"Sounds about right," Michael nodded.
"And I don't even have a choice?"
"No you don't," he said. "Now get out of my house."