Of Angels and Demons

Chapter Seventeen: Halloween

Chapter Seventeen; Halloween

~Alfred~

Something clicks in Arthur’s mind when Alfred emerges from the store bathroom dressed as Captain America.

“It’s Samhain today?!” He asks, almost panicked. He hadn’t even realized the proximity of the ancient festival night. It’s presence, so close to a more powerful encounter with the voice, does not bode well.

“Huh?” Alfred is puzzled. “What’s sow-un?”

“Halloween,” Francis explains. He’s used to Arthur's mannerisms. “I’ve been waiting for him to realize. He’s a superstitious old fool.”

“Old, I’ll grant,” Arthur retorts reluctantly. “And I suppose all who know the truth look superstitious to those who do not, just as those who do not know the truth seem blind to those who do. But my wariness of a day when world barriers thin is no folly.”

“Is it true that ghosts are stronger today?” Alfred asks, a bit nervously.

“Ghosts would be the least of my problems,” Arthur says, not really answering the question. “They’re usually relatively harmless. Even Echoes and Poltergeists must be exceptionally strong to cause any problems for the living on a given night. But Dark Fae, and other entities and creatures…” Arthur shudders. “Imps and Fair Folk love mischief, even if you can’t see them, and don’t know of them. They’re exceptionally fond of a more aware audience. But they’re also afraid of them, because being seen makes them vulnerable, though only a little. They welcome the decline of those with sight.”

“Those are just stories,” Alfred says dismissively. “But ghosts are real. I’m more afraid of ghosts than I am of little fairies.”

Matthew and Gilbert nod, though they both think that Alfred’s fear of spirits tied to earth, rather than a person, is ridiculous.

Francis, on the other hand, chuckles. “Those ‘stories’ are very real to Arthur, and a few others as well. Though almost none have Sight as unlimited as his, as I’ve learned. Vladimir, the Head of Hell, has some limited Sight. He’s managed to keep it after his death, too, like Arthur has, though many will lose it, or else find it slowly fading, after they are no longer alive.”

“I, however, among other things, am constantly and forever plagued by supernatural creatures. Which makes life difficult at times, especially when around those unaware of my circumstances.”

“O-kay. This is too weird for me.” Alfred says as he exits the store. Then, he freezes. And with good reason. “Arthur?” He says haltingly, “Are you making me hallucinate?”

“Why?” Arthur is unsuspecting. He’s too busy contemplating possible defences for the coming night. The locket was good, but perhaps a spell of concealment from fey? It hadn’t worked last year, but maybe with a few tweaks to the wording…

“Because I could have sworn I just saw a neon green fairy fly past my face.”

“Oh,” Arthur says, looking up. He appears nonchalant, but secretly he’s pleased to be able to be of use in a way that only he could. He glances up to see the pixie, who’s a bit irritated at being called a fairy. “Actually, she’s a pixie. You must have partial Sight. Have you never seen supernatural creatures before?”

“He hasn’t as long as I remember,” says Matthew, “Are you sure he has the sight?”

He must, if he saw that pixie.” Arthur says, matter-of-fact. Then adds, “Of course, his Sight may have been brought on by my proximity, or his learning of the reality of the Fair Folk. Even so, if he hasn’t even seen them when he was really young, he must only have the sight around Samhain. That’s not uncommon. And if he lived in a suburb his whole life, it’s likely he was never even near any supernatural creatures to see. The Fae feel more at home in the country, but many, especially the predators, are fascinated by cities. Suburbs don’t really interest the creatures either way.”