The Silvergrey Sea
Part Five: The Best Laid Plans
Harry is Truly Screwed
* * *
“Son,” I adopted my most cynical visage. This kid was not going to get the better of me.
“You were not expected, yet your presence is fortuitous.”
“You don’t say.” I lit a smoke.
“The return of the Templars is inevitable. Why do you not accept it?”
“We’ve had enough of empire. The Aions are too old to survive another.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong. The mistakes of the past will not be repeated.”
“Enough. Do your worst, sonny boy. I will be there to stop you.”
“My worst?” the blue aura faded somewhat. I could see my son’s expression, now. “Interesting choice of words.” He was much older, now. Though details were still obscured, I could tell he was standing, looking to be at the cusp of adolescence.
The storm outside became louder, much. I looked around, noting the hurricane driven clouds beyond the glass. Something large and dark passed a window in the direction of the storm. It went, window to window, almost too fast to make out. Another, slightly higher, did the same. I turned to look behind me. Several somethings were passing rapidly around the church. I caught a suggestion of wings. “What’s happening, o child of mine?”
“The spirits of the Aer, Watr, and Erthe are here. We are almost ready to begin.”
“You’re going to do it here?”
A disturbingly adult-sounding laugh from the boy. “No. The Evanescents is where we must go. Your presence here saves us the trouble of collecting you, first. There is one last thing to do here, then we will go.”
“Suppose I don’t want to go?”
A sigh. “You still think you have a choice.”
I couldn’t move. The blue halo, now just a suggestion remained as the boy advanced. As the last of the corona faded, I realized I had seriously misjudged my offspring.
The Fyre Child was my daughter.
—Gideon Jagged
Innsmouth, September 2026
© Gideon Jagged
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