By: Mavric Pendragon

​

  In the dark of the night with only the light of the moon around them, a lone figure slithered in the deserted streets. Cobwebs instead of light filled the windows of the fortress of looming buildings that engulfed all the light they could steel. No one had been there for years and now the lone, former, inhabitant who had recently emerged from them, weaved in and out of hiding places. The figure assumed that of a large serpent as it coiled itself under a dull red, rusty, pickup truck for a second before darting out towards a pair of large green dumpsters with shattered black, plastic covers. He had made it this far without being detected, but then he began to doubt as he grew closer to the place he was required to meet at undetected.

***

  Earlier that day.

  Rorik Hildegard darted down an alleyway as fast as he could. Slamming into a rough, brick exterior wall he glanced back to make sure he was and was not being followed at the same time. His gold wristwatch shattered as he made contact with the wall at such a great pace as he took his silver eyes off his path for a split second. His ash grey baseball cap almost when flying, but his sand toned hand drew it back to its proper place atop the graying black head of hair that was its rightful place. He was losing his touch and now had four men pursuing him that he wanted gone. They had followed him for six blocks now winding down crazy parts of town only those in excellent shape could muster. He would have lost them sooner, but then he would have also shaken off the one person in the world he would rather die than lose one more time.

  Leaping into the air Rorik caught the top of an oncoming stockade wall that should have barred any runner’s path. Pushing himself into a handstand he held his position as a young woman covered head to toe in black with a katana over her right shoulder bounded off the side of one of the buildings and landed crouched in the dirt on the other side. Her left, tight, black, glove embedded in the moist dirt up to her mid knuckles as she caught her breath and balance. She was told to keep running until they reached the haven, and she knew she should not look back, but she didn’t listen. Glancing over her shoulder her amber eyes saw through her poking out pin-straight brown hair a sight that made her heart stop. She watched as her father, her protector, launched himself towards danger instead of away from it as she was ordered to go to the haven for safety. Knowing that he always came back for her the young woman darted off alone for the place she was told to go.

Vaulting himself away from her Rorik landed amidst those he had so desperately tried to avoid. All four of them were bigger, stronger, and younger than he was and he was now on their turf. All advantages of speed, terrain, and unpredictability seemed lost as the aging slender man stood among four young giants who resembled mountains more than men. Snickering with glee the four young men encircled their aging prey like a pack of wolves. They had hunted him down and made it this far, now they only had to finish him off before they would be rid of his trickery. One of the men, barely old enough to grow a beard, and wearing a red and black striped t-shirt was Rooney Sawyer. He was the leader of the group and the most fed up with Rorik and the other person with him cutting though his street as a way of avoiding the “None among us” protests against those with the uncanny ability to do the extraordinary, or as Rorik called himself and others like him, Potenthros. Today, however, push came to shove when Rorik accidentally tripped and fell into Rooney. It was entirely an accident, but the disruption was all Rooney needed to call for his boys to try and snuff out the nuisance that brought the protesters to this part of town. His thinking was simple, get rid of the pair on the run and you get rid of the crowds of hostile people. What Rooney didn’t realize was that facing the crowd was the safer of the obstacles to challenge, because like when hunting an animal it is always going to flee unless it sees no other choice, then it will attack.

  Rorik kept a leery eye on all four men, but especially Rooney who was closing the circle tighter and tighter as the others followed his lead. What Rorik did not realize was that a friend and a foe was to be found in one of his four pursuers.

  “There is nowhere to run this time.” Rooney hissed crouching down and picking up a broken board that was lying in the alleyway. “We’ve put up with your kind long enough.”

  Two of Rooney’s guys each grabbed one of Rorik’s arms as Rooney drew closer. He began gently swinging the jagged board from one side to the other bringing the board higher and higher as he drew closer and closer. He thought he had the situation completely under control when Rorik unexpectedly turned the tables. Kicking his legs up towards Rooney, Rorik sent a concussive boom knocking Rooney back against the far wall of the alley. Dissolving his own arms into shadows Rorik slipped through the fingers of the men holding him. Once he was free Rorik entrapped one man in wood and the other he telekinetically threw into a wall and the wall consumed him. Once three of his attackers were subdued Rorik looked for the fourth but he was nowhere to be found. Thinking the man went after his daughter, Rorik took off with superhuman speed unaware that the fourth man loomed in the shadows nearby.

  “He is definitely one of us.” The fourth man reported into a radio on his left shoulder.

  “Follow him and see where he goes.” The radio ordered.

  Natu Yusi did as he was told. Mimicking both the physique and ability of his target, the one who was both friend and foe pursued his prey. Trying to keep up, Natu spotted Rorik climbing up the side of an old house and slip into what looked like a boarded-up window. Growing tired of his newly assumed form Natu shifted back into his 5’8”, Asian self.

  Running his honey fingers through his short black hair Natu searched his mind for a clever idea. These ideas typically came easy to him, but once Caspar Willowsbi sought out Rorik and Natu got tangled into this mess the ideas were harder to come by. Natu had gone from being a man able to do anything and the only one who could deliver what was asked of him, to just one in a million. Potenthros were now popping up everywhere, but they were divided and Natu was one of them that was caught in the crossfire. He knew that Caspar wanted Rorik’s help, but Natu also knew that he was ordered by another man to take Rorik and his daughter out. The problem was that if he struck at an inopportune time then Caspar Willowsbi and his ideas may evade him forever. This time Natu had to play by Caspar’s rules if he wanted any satisfactory results.

Climbing up to the roof of the building Natu mimicked Rorik’s climb as he cautiously approached the boarded-up window. When he reached the underside of the boards he found himself pleasantly surprised. The entire window covering was a facade with the boards hinged so you could lift the flap and crawl in. The rough boards scrapped across his back as Natu quietly made his way in with an envelope from Caspar Willowsbi in hand. He could have just opened it, memorized the information, and assumed Rorik’s identity as he made the appointment. He could have taken out Caspar Willowsbi when he was asked to come in person to gather his envelope. If he had done so; however, he would have made a bad name for all Potenthros. A mistake that would have cost him all opportunity to hide in two camps.

  Making his way in undetected, Natu looked around the strange room. The outside of the building looked like a deserted mess while inside was kept in immaculate order. The room he had landed in after climbing through the window was set up like a living room with two over-sized black recliners, and a well worn black leather couch taking up the space to his right, with a sorry excuse for a bookshelf with only a dozen books on it to his left. The tan-green carpet under his feet had lost its comfort ages ago and the walls were a bleached grey instead of their intended royal blue. Surprisingly there were no cobwebs or any other sign of life including Rorik’s entry just moments ago.

  Sensing someone else was nearby Natu climbed back out the window and clung to the wall above it like a chameleon. Waiting until he could no longer sense whoever was in the room he made his way back in and walked up to one of the chairs. Pulling a golden brown envelope from Caspar Willowsbi addressed to No One out of the pocket of his dark blue windbreaker Natu placed his assigned task where it would be found on one of the black chairs before vanishing out the window once more.

  Once Natu was out of sight Rorik’s daughter Phoebe came agitatedly into the room. Placing her katana next to the bookshelf she removed her gloves and tossed them onto the floor as she reached for her hood. Dropping it over her shoulders she undid her suffocating yet necessary mask. Whipping it next to the bookshelf atop her gloves Phoebe shook her head as she let her long brown hair down.

  “That’s much better,'' she muttered, unzipping her vest and letting it slip to the floor.

  Sitting down on the couch she removed her black toe shoes and flung herself back exhausted. She had been on the run all day and now she was ready to relax. She had always been on the run, but now those who chased her and her father were getting closer and closer. Even with a seemingly infinite amount of powers the two of them could not seem to find a safe place to stay hidden very long, and he was talking about moving again. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to move again, but she wanted so desperately to no longer be the last thing others remembered. That was how things were though.

  She had beaten her father home today because of Rooney, but he was able to relax first. Thinking about her dad being home Phoebe forced herself to get up off the couch and lock the window that they used as a door.   When she went to plop herself down on the couch once more she noticed the envelope Natu had left behind. It was addressed to No One with no other information on the outside of the envelope. Curious she brought it to her father who was lying in bed in the room just down the hall.

  Their housing this time around was the attic and third floor of an abandoned three-story mansion-esk house they now resided in. The house had been condemned many years ago, but the cost of knocking it down was too expensive so it was simply boarded up and left until the hazards of falling debris demanded attention. This allowed for the father-daughter duo to take up occupancy several months ago, but now run-ins with Rooney and the “None among us” movement had made it to where life was very difficult to move about as they so chose. In fact, today’s run-in was the third this week, but the fact that Rorik needed to use his powers so much to escape was what Phoebe thought very odd. Normally Rorik would have called his daughter to his side and the two of them taken on the lot together, but this time she was told to flee, and she hated that.

  Knocking gently on her father’s door Phoebe turned the brass knob and waited for a response.

  “What is it, Phoebe?” Rorik heaved, exhausted from his multipower escape.

  “I found this in the living room.” She replied, her amber eyes glowing from whatever light could reach them.    “I am also going to be making pancakes for dinner and was wondering if you would like any?”

  Rorik sat up in his messy double bed. The red-checkered quilt was bunched up to one side and the sheets were flopped over the bed on the other. His down pillow in a red case was twisted and deformed from his restless tossing that was only settled when Phoebe opened the door. He had no shirt on and scars covered his torso.

  “Hand it here.” Rorik beckoned, “And please fetch me a glass of water.”

  Phoebe handed off the mysterious envelope before turning to fetch water from the kitchen. Alone once more Rorik lied back down before running his finger over where the stamp should be. Feeling a faint “W” imprinted in that part of the envelope Rorik grinned.

  “What do you have to say now, you sly fox?” Rorik asked the envelope. “You didn’t even have the decency to stick around for me to take a good look at you.”

  Pulling a knife out of thin air Rorik patiently undid the glue that guarded the note inside. Lifting the flap he pulled out a crisp white piece of paper with a golden "W" faintly seen through the page. Placing the envelope beside him he opened the letter with a smirk. It read,

  “To No One,

  I have a proposition to assist you in your trying times. I understand that you are in desperate need of a place to seek shelter for yourself and Unknown. I am organizing a group as you read this to build such a place that I am informed No One can find. Can you please prove my team correct on this one though it is not the answer they intended to convey. I will be in my office after hours waiting for your arrival or refusal.

                                                                                                  Sincerely,

                                                                                                          Caspar Willowsbi

  P.S. There was a dispute over what happened to Rooney Sawer that I took the liberty of finalizing to keep you two safe. ‘Cause of death, Unknown, but No One knows,’ is on the paperwork as a fitting signature for you two.”

  Finishing the letter and resealing it in the envelope by turning back time around the paper Rorik waited for Phoebe to return. She had not been gone more than a minute, but Rorik was anxiously awaiting her arrival as his time slowed down to that of everyone else’s. Thankful for the refreshing drink Rorik finished the glass before he spoke.

  “Phoebe.” He began holding out the envelope as she was about to leave. “I need to leave you here alone for a while.”

  Phoebe took the envelope from her father’s hand.

  “An old friend of mine thinks he has found us a place to stay.” He continued as she leaned against the doorway to open the letter. “I need to see him in person before we can move in; however, and our meeting has to be kept in secret from others without powers.”

  “You are going to speak with this Caspar Willowsbi?” Phoebe asked, holding up the letter she finished reading, before crossing her arms across her chest as she waited for a response.

  “Yes,” Rorik affirmed.

  “What’s his powers?” Phoebe demanded.

  “He has none.” Rorik slowly replied.

  “So he’s against us.” Phoebe hissed.

  “I didn’t say that.” Rorik rebutted.

  “You said he has no powers, and anyone without powers is against us.” Phoebe retaliated moving closer to the bed. “It’s as simple as that. They don’t think we can be trusted and in doing so they have made themselves untrustworthy.”

  Rorik rose to his feet to defend Caspar’s reputation. The muscles in his bare chest quivered with distaste as he towered over his daughter.

  “Did you even read the note?” Rorik inquired.

  “If I didn’t why would I call out Caspar by his name?” Phoebe rebutted.

  “Then think about the PS line of the letter.” Rorik huffed, grabbing her wrist and raising the letter to her eyes. “He uses our code names and left the letter in the house. He knows who we are with and without our code names, where we are, and what we can do.”

  Phoebe broke her father’s firm grip and read the letter over once more.

  “You also found this in the living room, but you didn’t mention anything else in the house being out of order.”   Rorik pointed out cooling down from his initial wave of hostility.

  Phoebe stared at her father through worn eyes. The two of them had been a team on their own for over twenty years now and he had never once done anything to put her in harm’s way, but the hostility of those without powers made it very difficult for her to accept that Caspar was safe.

  “But he’s one of them.” Phoebe pointed out with a hint of fear in her voice.

Rorik drew close to his daughter, wrapped her in his arms, and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “I know you are scared, my light.” He acknowledged, “But Caspar Willowsbi is a man who can keep many secrets and has chosen the Potenthros to be his most guarded secret of all. He has known me longer than you have and has yet to let me down.” Drawing her chin up with his right hand to look her in the eye he flashed a quick smile before continuing. “I will return for you when I have spoken to him myself, I promise.”

  “Then tell me about him before you go.” Phoebe pleaded, “Please put my mind at ease.”

Rorik flashed another smile.

  “I will.” He whispered, “but over some pancakes if you don’t mind.”

  His voice grew stronger as the sentence continued until he was speaking in his normal gruff tone.

  Phoebe playfully pushed him back as she turned to leave.

  “I only serve pancakes to men who are fully clad.” She teased, making her way to the kitchen.

  Rorik smirked then his face grew grave as he fished for his shirt amidst the unkempt bedding. It was an excellent little jab on Phoebe’s part, but it was too alike to her mother, Dona Vladimir, for Rorik’s liking. He couldn’t understand how a woman so aloof from their daughter’s upbringing could show so clearly through Phoebe in word, appearance, and action. Shaking the thoughts of the woman he had left ages ago from his head Rorik found his grey polo shirt and made his way to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was a small pink room with a stove, crates of food, and a wooden table with two chairs in it on the second floor. There was no charm to the place, but it was as far as Rorik and Phoebe wanted to carry the cast iron antique stove they found a few blocks away. For a duo with limitless potential, they had their limits.

Flames leaped out the stove as Phoebe flipped a buttermilk pancake into the air without the use of a spatula. Subsiding the flames Phoebe slid the finished masterpiece onto a plate and poured the mix for another one into the sizzling pan. Waiting for it to cook she brushed her hands on her light blue apron she had donned before starting. To her, the rest of the world could see her as a mess, but in the kitchen, she was to be clean and organized, in every facet of her cooking. Checking her hair to make sure it did not come undone from its tight double twisted low bun she was surprised to see her father enter so soon.

  “Food’s not even done yet.” She explained.

  “That’s fine.” Rorik sighed as he took a seat in one of the wooden chairs. “You requested that I gab about Caspar Willowsbi over pancakes, but I’d rather tell you about him and then focus on the pancakes.”

  Phoebe chucked as her dad’s statement.

  “Well, go ahead then.” She encouraged, flipping another perfect pancake and catching it in the pan without the use of a spatula.

  Rorik sat back as he recalled his first meeting with Caspar Willowsbi, before Phoebe was even a thought.

  “I was enlisted in the green beret on the east coast when I was in my early twenties. No one knew that Potenthros were even a reality at that time so those of us with powers were left alone, so long as we didn’t cause trouble. Things were so laid-back in fact that I even befriended who I thought to be a simple local businessman." Rorik began, “Then these ‘none among us’ movements began to rise up and my friends and I were the local targets. Many wanted us dealt with as traitors to society, but the businessman I met fought hard to keep this group of hostile people at bay. He was wealthy beyond anything you could imagine. In fact, he was the wealthiest man on earth, and that man was Caspar Willowsbi. In spite of his wealth, power, and influence he did not go after the money that would have been waiting for him if he had turned against the others and myself. Instead, he chose another path. Paying for lawyers and smugglers he single-handedly protected my small group of four giving us a head start on outrunning any who came after us. To Caspar, there is no price too great to pay for the protection of another human being’s life, and that is how he saw all Potenthros and non-Potenthros alike. He could have had it easy, but I soon found out that easy and Caspar are like dry ice and boiling water. They can exist in the same area, but if they encounter one another the repercussions are catastrophic.

  Getting me off the base undetected he passed me from smuggler to smuggler until only he and the latest handler knew where I was located. It was at the end of this time that I then met your mother. She was amazing until the day she found out you had powers like myself. To keep you away from her I had to ask Caspar to step into our lives and help move us around. Now it seems he thinks he is not done helping us and has found something better for us.” Rorik informed.

  “I guess I was mistaken about this man.” Phoebe yielded handing her father a stack of perfectly golden brown pancakes.

  “He didn’t even bother sticking around to introduce himself,” Rorik smirked, taking up his silverware that was already at his place before he sat down. “Besides, I raised you to be leery of such individuals. It is not common to be helped by those without powers, but Caspar is a man full of surprises on that one.”

Phoebe saw that her father was not upset and joined him at the table with her plate of pancakes coated in syrup.

  “So when must you go see him?” She asked, taking a bite, seeing that Caspar was in fact a friend instead of a foe.

  “Tonight, it seems,” Rorik informed, holding out another page that was in the envelope with what Phoebe had read. “He gave me some unusual instructions to find him, but nothing unlike what he has had me handle before.”

  Phoebe took the page making sure her hands were clean and her place clear enough to not get it dirty. It was the same size as the other page, but half the thickness. Delicately she opened it to see what it read. To her amazement, the thin page was almost completely blank except for a single red dot in the center. Staring at the dot she sought to understand what her father was talking about. What did this red dot have to do with directions to Caspar Willowsbi?

  Seeing his daughter struggling with the basics of Caspar’s tricks, Rorik took a large bite of pancakes before taking the page back. She reluctantly surrendered the page unsure how it was to be interpreted.

  “Change your eyes to see the fine details, Phoebe.” He instructed turning the page to read the many paragraphs Caspar had meticulously layered in the insignificant dot.

  Handing the page back to his daughter, Rorik waited for her to try again. Amused he watched as she frustratingly tried to follow his lead until she slapped the page on the table.

  “What’s the matter, my light?” Rorik asked, chuckling at her exasperation.

  “I can’t read it,” Phoebe muttered.

  “It tells me how to get to him and when and where to meet him,” Rorik explained, redirecting her thoughts away from anticipation of being judged. “I will be leaving in a few hours after it gets dark and then returning just before dawn.” He assured.

  Phoebe looked up at her dad. Her eyes pleading that he try and poke at her so she could put up a front and storm off, but he knew her better than that and her fear lay exposed.

  “What about what we have done?” She shuttered, thinking about those they had silence who would have given them away otherwise. “What will he do when he finds out about them?”

  Rorik rose from his place and coddled his 29-year-old baby girl. He had kept her safe as best he could, but what she saw and learned from him to protect themselves had left scars he had no intention of creating and now had no power of healing.

  “I will be straightforward about our methods of protection with Caspar tonight if they come up, but please don’t dwell on it.” He pleaded, “We did what we had to to survive and now we are in a different place with different needs. Besides we may even be looking at a new start. Dwell on that tonight instead of what we have been tormented to live through.”

  “But he knows.” Phoebe cried, pushing her father away. “He said himself it was fitting that I was the cause of death and you know it.”

  “Phoebe, I…” Rorik began, but Phoebe had stormed back upstairs and left the rest of her dinner and her concerned father behind.

  Wanting to give her some time to think about what was said, Rorik decided to leave Phoebe alone and clean up like he typically did after she cooked. Putting the leftovers in plastic containers he tossed them into the almost empty, skinny, white fridge with the internal light burned out. Wiping down the table with a wet blue cloth Rorik then swept the linoleum floor into a dustpan and emptied the contents into a small, plastic, white, trashcan. Once the kitchen was clean he went upstairs and knocked on Phoebe’s plywood door.

  “Phoebe, my light.” He attempted. “Please open the door.”

  There was no response.

  On the other side of the door Phoebe lay face down on her bed brooding. Her upper body was on the bed, but her feet were touching the floor. Not wanting to be a part of anything this non-Potenthros had to offer she was hurt that her father would take his side over hers. Sure Caspar had been there for her father in the distant past, but what about the last twenty-six years. Where was he for any of that? This man may have been great back then, but now he deserved as much trust as anyone else without powers, maybe even less because he already knew so much.

  Seeing he was getting nowhere and that time was beginning to run short Rorik laid his hand on Phoebe’s doorknob and pondered opening it, but then he decided against it. His little girl was now a very capable young woman entitled to her own ideas and emotions. If she wanted to keep him out then he had to accept that, even though what he was doing was for her benefit. Calling good night through her mind Rorik sullenly went back to his room to prepare.

  Changing into a grey v-neck t-shirt, blue jeans, and black low cut boots, and slinging a black hiker backpack over his shoulder, he put on his ash-grey baseball cap and headed for the living room. Casting one final glance at Phoebe’s door he said farewell once more before he slid out the window and dematerializing his arm to make sure to lock the trap door behind himself. Shifted his appearance into that of a Eurasian Eagle Owl he took off into the night until he came to the place where Caspar told him to begin. Shifting into a serpentine appearance, Rorik made his way to meet Caspar Willowsbi.

  In the dark of the night with only the light of the moon around them, a lone figure slithered in the deserted streets. Cobwebs instead of light filled the windows of the fortress of looming buildings that engulfed all the light they could steel. No one had been there for years and now the lone, former, inhabitant who had recently emerged from them, weaved in and out of hiding places. The figure assumed that of a large serpent as it coiled itself under a dull red, rusty, pickup truck for a second before darting out towards a pair of large green dumpsters with shattered black, plastic covers. He had made it this far without being detected, but then he began to doubt as he grew closer to the place he was required to meet at undetected.

  It wasn’t that he assumed he was caught or followed. It was more the memories, memories of Caspar Willowsbi, Dona Vladimir, and the others he thought were on his side until Phoebe was three. Scaling the rough cinder block wall before him Rorik winced as he climbed past a broken exterior window. His wincing was not due to any physical pain caused by the shards of glass covering the windowsill, no again it was all a matter of memories. The window used to belong to him, him and his newlywed bride Dona Vladimir Hildegard.

  She was one of Caspar Willowsbi’s seemingly infinite contacts tasked with moving Rorik around from place to place undetected. She was smart, and funny, with a clever wit about her, but she also had the tendency to go rogue. Her orders from Caspar were to take Rorik to a bus station several hundred miles away and leave him for his next handler. Instead, Dona deliberately disobeyed Caspar’s direct order. She took him to a restaurant downtown where there was still life to the present, and then the two of them hid out in this apartment for several months. During this time Rorik and Dona fell in love and were secretly married behind Caspar’s back.

When Caspar eventually tracked the two of them down himself he was furious, but not in the way Rorik and Dona thought. Caspar’s anger was for not being informed that they had formed a bond beyond that of package and handler like they were supposed to be and he wasn’t even invited to the wedding. Changing his tactics much faster than anyone could anticipate Caspar created an alibi and even bought the entire building where they would live. Positioning guards as the first and third floor tenets Caspar allowed Rorik and Dona to have the entire second floor.

  Things stayed this way until soon after Phoebe was born. Then the fighting began and continued for three years. Rorik had a solid alibi that could be used to negate any allegations of his being a Potenthros, but then Phoebe began to manifest similar powers. With no way of hiding what their daughter could do Dona began to feel scared. With each passing day Phoebe’s powers grew stronger, and the fight’s grew louder and longer until one day Dona snapped. Rorik could recall the last day in the apartment as if it was going on before his eyes.

  “How could you do this to us!?!” She screamed. “What did we do to deserve this?”

  “What did you do to deserve this?” Rorik hollered back. “Do you really think that my powers would not have at least some impact on any children we have? I am a Potenthros remember. I can hide it well, but I can’t eliminate it!”

  “You could have learned how to hinder her from inheriting it!” Dona shouted.

  “I had as much control over that as you did with her having your hair and eyes!” Rorik exploded. “What did you think would come of us?!!”

  “I don’t know what I thought!” Dona burst, “I knew you could conceal your abilities well. Maybe I thought you could hide them from her! Now you are both monsters!”

  Those were the last words Rorik ever heard Dona say, because after that moment she stormed out of the house and ratted Rorik and Phoebe out. She thought she was getting them the help they needed to live among society like typical individuals, but instead she set in motion an attack that desecrated this part of town and sent her husband and daughter on the run for the rest of their lives.

  Shaking the harsh memory from his mind Rorik finished his accent and stood on the flat rooftop. Now he was close to Caspar and hopefully finished with this place. Dashing across the rooftops as a bouncing ball of dull red light as he made his way from one rooftop to the next. Reaching the mansion where Caspar had set up shop ages ago Rorik transformed back into a person and stood before the towering iron gates before him. He always knew Caspar was a man of outlandish flair whenever given the chance. Even in this dump he still kept his lofty air about himself.

  Beyond the iron gates the courtyard of the seemingly abandoned mansion dull brown leaves danced in the wind as a stern, tall, man in a dark blue suit stepped out from beyond the marble columns that lined the porch on the other side of the overgrown mess. The courtyard was a disgrace to say the least. The cobblestone walkway was uneven, bushes overgrew their boundaries, and trees cloaked the courtyard in a perpetual twilight. No One knew what kind of secrets were held in this most dreary of places, but apparently Caspar had added to them since the last time they spoke.

  “Greetings my old friend.” Caspar called in a clearer voice than his age suggested. “I trust you received my letters.”

  Rorik held up the single envelope Phoebe found in the living room.

  “Only this one.” Rorik hollered.

  “That rookie.” Caspar scoffed, knocking his dark braided wooden cane on the uneven ground. “I explicitly told him to drop off two envelopes. One for you and one for Unknown.”

  “Really.” Rorik slowly replied. “Then may I come in to discuss the nature of this rookie?”

  “You need no such formality.” Caspar sighed staggering closer to the gate. “But since you requested it I shall grant in anyway old friend.”

  Rorik passed through the iron bars that would have kept most from entering the forsaken grounds where Caspar had set up shop.

  “It’s not that I cannot enter, in my own strength.” Rorik grinned, “I just appreciate the warm welcome for a change. Besides who are you calling old, your son Callum and daughter Illianna are around my age which makes you the old friend.”

  Caspar swiftly swung his cane up before grabbing the back of it and using the hook knocked Rorik to the ground in one fluid motion.

  “I may have some years on you, but that does not make me old.” Caspar scoffed offering his hand as he towered over Rorik.

  Rorik accepted his peculiar friend’s hand in spite his not needing it. Rising to his feet he glanced about with the uneasy suspicion that he was being watched.

  “It is your memories, nerves, and actual fact that have you on edge at the moment.” Caspar unsympathetically assured. “Would you care to join me inside where we can get down to business undisturbed?”

Rorik hated how impulsive his friend was, but he had come to do business and now Caspar would begin explaining things as they should be. Straightening out his dark blue suit Caspar led Rorik into what should have been a dull, rundown, rat hole. Instead the interior of the mansion was majestic and awe inspiring. There were crimson silk drapes in the large archaic floor to ceiling windows. Majestic tapestries resembling those from medieval Europe filled the middle of the walls about four feet as far as the eye could see. Above them pure crystal chandeliers gently swayed with every one of Caspar’s labored steps. He was getting old, he just was too proud to admit such a trivial matter.

  Turning a corner into a large spacious office with a dark oak desk and chair in the middle with only a single dark brown leather armchair before it the two men entered. Other than these pieces the rest of the room was bare. The hollow sound of Caspar’s cane echoed on the sand colored tile floor as the two of them entered.

  “Please close the door behind you Rorik.” Caspar asked, making his way behind the desk.

Rorik did as he was asked before assuming that the other seat in the room was where he needed to be before they could begin. Once the two gentlemen were seated Caspar drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled as he leaned back into his chair.

  “You’ve been on the run from this place for ages now.” Caspar smirked, “I’m surprised all it took was a little clean up crew and a letter to get you hear on such short notice. If I had known it was this easy I would have called you back here much sooner.”

  Rorik leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees with his hands folded and dropped down before him. The chair was not very comfortable, but after working with Caspar for so long Rorik knew he had best make himself so. Caspar was going to begin something, and by the amount of secrecy tonight was the only time this discussion would transpire. With this in mind Rorik assumed he would be here for a long time and that he would have to recall most of what Caspar was saying. Dropping his backpack next to him Rorik assumed the ability of a perfect memory and craned his neck to look his friend in the eye.

  “What do you want this time Caspar?” Rorik boldly asked, trying to get Caspar talking.

  “The world hates you and the rest of the Potenthros.” Caspar began.

  “I was unaware.” Rorik sarcastically interrupted.

  Caspar shot Rorik a quick “do not interrupt me” glare.

  Rorik raised his hands assuring without words that he would hold his tongue next time.

  “You are not supposed to know all my contacts, but this you need to hear.” Caspar continued in an emotion filled voice. “Over the years I have harbored 72 Potenthros. With all kinds of abilities. It pains me to say this Rorik, but you are the last of those 72 still alive today.”

  Caspar’s breathing became labored with every word until he could finally compose himself.

  Rorik could not believe his ears. Those 71 weren't just other Potenthros, but they were more like family to Caspar. Hearing they were gone made him wish he had not activated his perfect memory.

  “The ‘None Among Us’ movement has grown very well versed in dealing with Potenthros and those who harbor them. It has gotten so out of control that nowhere is safe to harbor you or your daughter like we used to.” Caspar sighed, “In fact there is no where to safely harbor myself either.”

  “Sir?” Rorik asked fearing that elaboration though necessary would come with great difficulty.

  “You all live in so much fear. I guess someone wanted me to know what it feels like to be in your shoes.” Caspar quivered as tears welled up in his eyes. “They found Kathleen and I’s home. Waited until I was gone and then…” Tears began to stream down the old man’s face.

Rorik rose from his seat and knelt beside his friend offering his shoulder as a place to weep.

  “The detective told me that the autopsy was inconclusive.” Caspar quivered with grief. “He told me that no mere man could have done this and suggested that one of the Potenthros was the culprit. They asked if I knew of anyone with Umbrakinesis (Shadow Manipulation) as it was the most plausible thought highly hypothetical on their part. At this time you were the only one capable of such power and I was warned to cut all contact from you for my own safety.

  Then they found a young man with those power types a few weeks later and instead of giving him a fair trial they called me up, handed me a gun and told me to finish him. Those I thought I was working with were a part of “None among us” and not actual police. When I refused they simply removed me from their mob on the last day of that young man’s life. He was killed because he had powers that could be pitted against him. I can still hear his cry for help as he tried to escape, but somehow they negated his powers and he was helpless. His family lost a loved one and my heart goes out to them to this day, but there is nothing I can do to turn back time.” Caspar paused once more before his voice grew stronger.

  “With so much loss, anger, and fear I believe that our days of hiding on our own are over. That young man died because he was alone, but if he had a team I believe he would still be alive today.” Caspar glanced over at his friend still kneeling next to him.

  “This is where you come in.” He stated in a more business tone. “While this place might do for a little while it will not work for long. In light of this I have taken the liberty of purchasing a large plot of land and am now working on construction of the great masterpiece that will serve as a harbor for Pothethros and those of us who see them as other human beings. The housing is going to take up around 2 acres alone, and the company where we can work will take up another 40 give or take a hundred or so as needed. I need you and your daughter to gather as many Potenthros as you can and make your way there. You will encounter great opposition, but know that a safe haven awaits you at your journey’s end. When you arrive you will be in charge of all the Potenthros while I manage the financing and non-Potenthros. So, my friend are you ready to begin?   Are you ready to find a place No One can offer?”

  “You drag me in here on a whim, tell me a tear jerking story and now you want me to help spread the word knowing that I am the last of those you have helped in the past!?!” Rorik exclaimed.

  “Yes actually.” Caspar matter of factly agreed. “Very well put.”

  “You know me too well.” Rorik sighed. “How much time do I have to get the word out?”

  “I need help as soon as possible, so have everything ready by yesterday.” Caspar teased, trying to rise to his feet.

  “I’ll get Phoebe to help out.” Rorik volunteered, helping his friend up. “Lately she has been acting like Potenthros are an endangered species, and this will be good for her. Can you make our house disappear in the meantime?”

  Caspar chucked at the trivial thought.

  “Your house will be as you leave it only next to Willowsbi Enterprises waiting for your arrival.” He assured.   “How do you like your pancakes?”

  Rorik shook his head and scoffed. “Is there anything too difficult for you?” He asked.

  "As a matter of fact there is." Caspar said, finishing rising to his feet. "I told you that you are the last of your wave of Potenthros, but you are not the only wave. I have already started gathering some more of them and hiding them here, but they are more unruly than your batch.The most troublesome is Natu. He was supposed to deliver two envelopes to you, but you only got one. Other things have gone missing as well, but no one has fessed up. Maybe seeing your example will bring them up to speed and maturity like we need them. Look at me rambling on like some old bat."

  “You are gathering more Potenthros already?” Rorik expressed in disbelief.

  “Yes, I started looking the day you found out your daughter is capable of almost all you are.” Caspar informed, accidentally dropping his cane. “Did you think you were a one shot deal?”

  “I…” Rorik began, bending down to pick up his friend's cane.

  As Rorik reached the ground he looked over to grab the edge of the desk to pull himself back to his feet. Underneath the desk; however, he caught sight of a tiny black box that was secured to the bottom of the desk where no one would see or disturb it. Unluckily for whoever placed it that is exactly what happened. Omitting a blood curdling, shrill frequency though the audio device Rorik rose swiftly to his feet.

  “The room has been bugged.” He informed, showing Caspar the box. “Whoever was listening is now on the move and I have to hunt them down now to find out why.”

The reality of the danger they were both in set instantly and Caspar snatched his cane from his friend.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Caspar snorted. “Find them. Find them now.”

Rorik followed the signal outside to a tree where the receiver was left behind. Whoever was listening didn’t want to be caught, and was either gone or blending in and laying low. Either way they had escaped and Rorik was left with more questions than answers. Bringing the receiver to Caspar he explained that there were no fingerprints or anything that could lead them to another clue as to who was listening in and why. Frustrated, Caspar advised that Rorik leave at once to begin preparations.

  “I will comb through everyone here for answers. You need to stay one step ahead of whoever was listening and bring as many Potenthros to our aid as possible.” Caspar assured, trying to keep Rorik on task. “Take these letters with you to invite others to Willoesbi Enterprises. We are counting on you.”

Rorik took the envelopes and took off. It was now the darkest time of the night and he wanted to check in on Phoebe. Leaving his more than capable friend behind he did not realize how close the mole who bugged the room was.

  Once Rorik was gone Natu Yusi emerged from further into the mansion.

  “There you are sir.” He heaved, out of breath. “It has been brought to my attention that we had a security breach. Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine Natu. Please gather the others. We need to have an emergency meeting.” Caspar coldly replied.

Natu turned to leave and as he did so adjusted the envelope addressed to Unknown that was concealed in his dark blue windbreaker. He wanted to snatch the audio device from Caspar, but to do so would blow his cover and he could not afford that. Doing as he was told he vanished into the mansion.

Arriving back home Rorik found Phoebe in their personal gym next to the kitchen. She was wearing a black tank top and yoga pants, with her hands wrapped in black cloth. Her body glistened with fresh sweat as she brushed a long brown bang from her face. She was breathing heavily and it appeared as if all the weights, exercise bike, and sword post were all well used. Even the dull grey punching bag gently swayed behind her as it tried to relax once more.

  “My light…” Rorik began.

  “You chose him over me!” Phoebe hollered livid with disgust. “You chose a non-Potenthros over your own daughter!”

  “It’s not like that.” Rorik hollered back. “He reached out in a time of need and I responded, but you wanted nothing to do with it!”

  “All non-Potenthros are the same though.” Phoebe heaved.

Rorik regained his composure.

  “No sweetheart. They are not all the same.” Rorik calmly rebutted. “In fact Caspar has asked if you and I would gather more Potenthros together. He is working on a place where we can gather together and be stronger instead of alone. He has even gone so far as to identify himself as a Potenthros even though he is not. He has taken our risks upon himself willingly and now he needs us more than we need him.”

  “What do we need to do to get into this place he is building?” Phoebe asked, tired of always being on the run and fighting with her father.

  “We need to deliver some mail while he moves our house to where we can be safe.” Rorik explained. “I know it sounds fishy, but this is how Caspar always works and somehow he pulls it off for the better.”

  “We’ll leave after I take a quick shower.” Phoebe replied. “But if this is a trap I will run him through.”

  Rorik stepped out of his daughter’s way as she made her way upstairs. The two of them had typically seen eye to eye on how to go about things, but this time they were in grave opposition. Tidying up the gym Rorik made his way upstairs and waited for Phoebe in the living room. Unsuccessfully looking for her letter Caspar had told him about he gave up as she entered the room. When she entered she was dressed in her black winter mask that covered her nose, chin and cheeks, black long sleeve form fitting shirt, tight black leather sleeveless hooded vest, black yoga pants, black toe shoes, and tight black gloves with grip. She was carrying her square hilt all black katana over her right shoulder, and had her utility belt around her waist with a grappling hook, lock picks, glass cutter, suction cups, half a dozen darts coated in venom, and several test tube-like vials of venom.

  “How many of these letters do we have to deliver?” She asked double checking her items in her utility belt.

  “A little under thirty at the moment.” Rorik informed tapping on his backpack where the letters were kept.

  “Then we had better get this over with. I don’t want to be here when your friend’s crew arrives.” Phoebe scoffed. “Where is the first letter going?”

  “The world’s trade center.” Rorik replied.

  “Race you there.” Phoebe challenged as she dropped out of the window and transformed into an eastern whip-poor-will and took off into the night.

  Rorik was exhausted, but he had to keep moving; soon they would be at Willowsbi Enterprises, a place No One could offer, and at last be safe. Transforming into an Eurasian Eagle Owl he followed his daughter into the night. Leaving letters at the world’s trade center and twenty six other locations the father/daughter duo headed off to find a place for No One, Willowsbi Enterprises.