To Hell and Back Again Ch. 14 - Epilogue

Author's note:

All good things must end. And thus, we come to the end of Book One. The stage is now set for an epic conflict. Some (but not all) of the major characters have been introduced. Watch for Book Two: Rebellion where we will kick things into high gear!

My sincere thanks to everyone who took the time to read my story and especially for all the wonderful feedback and support. It has been an interesting journey. Can't wait to see what happens next! Cheers!

Logan limped through the halls of the castle feeling every wound and all of his twenty-nine years. Everywhere he went people stopped what they were doing to move out his way and smile, nod, or just stare at him. The attention was more uncomfortable than his injuries were.

For all that, there were fewer people to stare than he would have hoped. The battle had taken a serious toll. Fully half of those who had chosen to fight with him were gone, returned to mist to float on the Hellwind. His only consolation was that they would, in theory, one day regain corporeal form once their spirits had regained enough strength. Small consolation indeed knowing they were, once again, at the mercy of Hell and all of its countless dangers.

"Logan?"

He turned to see Amber smiling at him. "Need a shoulder to lean on?"

"I'm not drunk this time."

"You weren't drunk last time either," she replied with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. "However, you are exhausted and severely wounded."

He shrugged and fought not to wince in pain from the hole in his shoulder. "I need to make the rounds and check on Beauty, Boudica, and... my hound."

She shook her head. "I still can't believe you made friends with one of those awful monsters and a demon but I guess I should not be too surprised. You are full of surprises."

He started to laugh but pain put a stop to that. "I have my moments."

She fell into step beside him, going slow so he could keep up. "Regardless, Boudica is resting comfortably. As is your hound. I checked on both only a short time ago."

He paused mid-step to stare at her. "You got close to a Hellhound?"

Amber blushed and began to fidget under his gaze. "Well, not too close! I didn't go into the pen where he chooses to sleep, but I did make sure he had food and water. I think he knew I was trying to help. He... licked my hand."

Logan chuckled and shook his head in wonder. "Yep, I think he likes you. And Beauty?"

"I had her moved to your chambers."

"Mine?" Logan scowled. "Why?"

"So there would be a bed big enough for the both you, of course."

"You changed the beds?"

"I changed the rooms."

"On whose orders?"

She glanced up at him with a nervous expression. "Mine?"

"Alright then," he smiled at her. "Explain your reasoning for making that decision."

"Well..." She chewed at her lower lip for a moment. "You are the Lord of the castle now, and she is your lover so..."

"I'm the what now?"

"Lord of the castle." She blinked at him. "You conquered it and defeated Graveek's forces. You rule here now. And so, it isn't proper for you to be staying in one of the guest chambers and I thought you would want the comfort of your lover in your bed. Did I do wrong?"

"I... no, no you didn't." Logan shook his head and eyed the brunette with renewed appreciation. "You assessed the situation and, with no one else around to make an executive decision, took it upon yourself to fix. That is a mark of good leadership."

She laughed. "Oh, I am not a leader! It just seemed like the thing to do."

"And you got it done. That is leadership. Is there a title for the person who keeps everything running on behalf of the Lord of the castle?"

"Yes. Castellan."

"Then as my first act as high mucky-muck, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Castellan. Congratulations. Your salary is hereby doubled."

"I wasn't paid a wage."

"Well, then that's easy," he grinned. Twice nothing is still nothing."

"M'Lord, I..." she stammered, wide-eyed. "I don't deserve to-"

"The hell you don't." Logan stopped limping through the hall, laid a hand on her shoulder, and looked into her eyes with a serious expression. "None of this would have been possible without you. You are smart, capable, brave, and efficient, and you deserve to be recognized for that."

He smiled at her and started walking again. "So you are stuck with the job. I'll even sweeten the deal and offer you a hundred times your old pay."

"That's still zero," she laughed.

"Details," he grinned. "Now where is this new room you have exiled me to?"

"We will have to climb some stairs, I'm afraid. Sure you don't want that shoulder to lean on?"

"Maybe just this once."

She nodded and swallowed a grin. "Just this once."

Slowly they made their way up. When he moved to open the door to the third floor, Amber just kept going.

"Wait, you didn't."

"I certainly did," she replied.

Onward they climbed, past the fourth floor and all the way to the top of the keep. A guard, one of those Amber had said should be spared, stood in front of the door, and snapped to attention as they exited the stairwell. He stepped back and opened the door for them. Logan, attempting to salvage some male pride, chose to walk past the guard without her assistance.

The entire top floor of the keep was one lavish suite of rooms. Thick carpets lay across the hardwood floors. Cabinets and tables of polished dark wood, plush couches, and overstuffed high back chairs created cozy nooks for relaxing. A stone hearth glowed with the warm light of a fire. Tall windows spilled the ruddy light of day into the room. Exposed beams supported a high, peaked roof and chandeliers for light.

In the center of the room was an enormous, canopied bed held up by stout wooden columns. Each column was carved into the image of a man or woman. Two writhed in silent pleasure. Two appeared to be in acute agony.

"We can work on that." Amber offered with a shrug.

Laying on the bed looking unhappy in a swath of bandages was his Beauty. Her smile was enough to make his wounds hurt less.

"Welcome home, Lord..." Amber paused and looked at him. "What do you wish to be called? Lord Logan?"

Logan remembered Coyote's advice.

"Your true name is more than words. It is also a sound; a declaration, as if you were carving your name into the bedrock of the universe. If you found a copy of another's true name written on a page, you would still not have the whole of it.

Logan scratched his jaw in thought, then looked over at Beauty. "I think I saw some horror movie once that talked about demon's having a secret "true name". Something about it giving you power over them or some such. Any truth to that?"

Beauty hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

"Interesting." I am not the only one keeping secrets.

That Beauty had not revealed the existence of a true name for demons, much less divulged her own, spoke volumes about how significant this discovery was. He took no offense. Clearly, that was something no demon wanted to share.

And it certainly answered his question. Names did matter in Hell, as it did in the Faery realm. Perhaps such truths mattered in every reality.

And then, just like that, he knew the sound of his full, true name. Logan could feel. It resonating inside him like the ringing of a bell on a quiet, summer day. It just felt... right. And it was so much more than anyone, including himself, had ever heard spoken.

Any fear of using his family name vanished. Logan understood that he was far more than the sum of his parts. More than just the son of his Apache father and Irish mother. More than just a soldier in the US military. He, like every human soul living or dead, was unique in all the universe.

He looked at Amber. "Proud Bear You can think of me as Logan Proud Bear."

"Then Lord Proud Bear it shall be," Amber smiled. "Now go get some rest, Lord Proud Bear, and give your Lady some much overdue attention."

"Yes ma'am," Logan chuckled.

He heard the door close behind him as he limped over to the bed and gently moved his battered body onto the mattress. After all that time in the cavern, sleeping on moss and dirt, it still felt strange to lay on something so soft. It all felt alien to him.

Beauty rolled over and curled up against his shoulder. Whether on a dirt floor in a hillside crack of rock, or a carpet of moss in a drafty cavern, or a king-sized bed, this was what he needed most. In her arms was home.

*****

He awoke to the darkness and deep silence of the night, and a recent memory tumbling through his head. Beauty lay curled at his side. The scent of her hair made him smile.

When you are ready to complete our business, you have only to say my name.

The last words spoken to him by the Fairy Queen Maeve all those months ago echoed in his mind, clear and bright as a candle in the dark. So clear that Logan began to wonder. Was it just a memory or had she reached out to him again through his dreams?

With everything that had happened recently, he had all but forgotten that strange, seemingly random encounter, as well as her poisonous offer.

Ah yes, hell, she had said just before exiling him to this nightmare realm. The human realm of damnation and punishment. I remember now.

Remember what exactly? Logan asked himself as he lay in the quiet. Just the concept of Hell or something more? And how had a pagan fairy queen even known about Christian Hell in the first place?

A seemingly random encounter. That was what he had always assumed but what if it wasn't random? Logan recalled what she had said of him then, what he assumed to be some kind of poetic nonsense. Yes, it has been a very long time but I sense it now. Twice blooded. Twice blessed.

His breath caught in his throat as he recalled the last words spoken by Baroness Graveek when she had seen the burning spill of his blood. It's you! She did it. The crazy bitch finally did it! Twice blooded, twice blessed! Destroyer of worlds...

The same odd phrase from two different creatures of power, despite being worlds apart! No way is that a coincidence.

She who and did what? he wondered. Was Graveek referring to Queen Maeve? No, that doesn't feel right. Maeve's behavior seemed more reactive than proactive.

Pieces began to align in his head and it chilled him to the bone.

Maeve sent me here on purpose! This was all planned, from the very beginning, and someone is playing puppet master and pulling the strings. My strings.

"Destroyer of worlds", Graveek had called him. Sleep was a long time coming and when it did, it brought dreams of fire and blood.

*****

At close to a hundred feet, the highest tower in the castle provided a sweeping, panoramic view of the blasted landscape for miles. The climb up the spiraling stairs to the top was exhausting, especially in his wounded state, but it was worth it. It was a good place to think when the Hellwind was not tearing at the walls. No one would disturb him here except for the most serious of reasons and not just because of the climb. Two hundred pounds of demon hound sprawled in the shade of the parapets, seemingly uninterested in the remarkable view.

"I have a question."

Coyote snorted amusement in Logan's mind. "When do you not have questions?"

"Be serious for once. During the battle with Graveek, she used some kind of power. You called it magic. Was does that mean exactly?"

The beast yawned and stretched. "Almost nothing. "Magic" is just a word humans use to describe what they do not understand. It was a convenient label in the middle of a battle."

"Then explain it to me, oh wise one."

"You humans have begun to understand with your "science". Everything that exists is a form of energy. Even your physical body. Do you understand at least that much?"

"Don't be snarky." Logan thought back on long ago days in school. "Yeah, ok. I remember something about there being space between electrons in an atom, and physical objects being made up of a significant amount of "empty space" between the atoms."

Coyote grunted. "I cannot speak to your science babble, but yes. Think of your body as an enormous swarm of tiny, dancing bees. Like any dance, it is a specific series of movements toward a deliberate end result, such as breathing, eating, thinking, or screwing."

"That's a weird analogy, but ok," Logan replied. "So, what does any of that have to do with "magic"?"

"Everything, all of reality, is energy in motion. Thought and will are also a form of energy. A strong enough will can manipulate the energy around them to cause an effect. To "change the dance", so to speak. That is what you saw Baroness Graveek do. The same as I did to assume this Hellhound form."

"Wow. So magic is a real thing!"

Somehow the hound managed to make a noise very like a groan. "If you insist on using that idiotic term for it, then yes. Magic is real."

"Why then does no one on Earth know how to use this... ability?"

"But they do," Coyote smirked in his mind. "Every moment of their lives without ever realizing what or why. Forging steel, cooking a meal, and making someone fall in love with you are all forms of energy manipulation. However, I understand you are referring to the more dramatic results such as Graveek hand waving a crowd to feel intense pleasure or pain. It is enough to know that, in the physical world, the "dance" of energy is far stronger than it is here in the spirit realm. Much more difficult to manipulate, requiring a far greater application of will."

"Can I learn to do this?"

"Possibly. There are reasons such talents are no longer common in the human world. It requires a strength of will you are likely not capable of."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Logan thought with a grimace.

"You are welcome."

"But it is theoretically possible." Logan smiled. "I could be like a Jedi! How cool would that be?"

"I don't know what a "Jedi" is, but I am fairly certain I said no such thing."

Logan chuckled, then grew serious. "During the battle with Graveek, I was cut and my blood... it started to burn."

Coyote made a sound of disgust and rose to climb down the long stairs. "I am done with this silly conversation."

Logan watched the fake Hellhound walk into the tower. The creature, a trickster by nature and even a god to some, was difficult to read. And yet, Logan could not shake the impression that the comment about burning blood had rattled the ancient spirit terribly.

What is happening to me?

*****

Logan, Beauty, and Boudica leaned against the parapets on the highest tower and watched the activity in the castle courtyard below. Coyote lounged nearby, utterly uninterested in the expansive view. After nearly a week, life in the castle was beginning to settle into something close to a normal routine.

"What now?" the auburn-haired warrior asked.

"Now, I think you should teach me how to use a sword properly," Logan answered.

Boudica nodded. "You are rather terrible at it, but that's not what I meant."

He smiled. "I know."

Logan grew serious as his eyes swept over the jagged landscape of the Wastes stretching toward the horizon. Looking out over the vast emptiness, it was almost tempting enough to think they were all alone out here, but he knew better. Only a few days away was an entire city of demon Masters and human slaves toiling for their amusement. Too close to be ignored.

"What now? Now, we have a base of operations which means a place and people to protect. It also means a place to begin preparing."

"For what?" Beauty asked.

Logan put an arm around her shoulders and stared out at the city he could not see somewhere past the horizon. "The only thing you can do when faced with a superior enemy force. What I was trained to do."

He looked down at her and Boudica. "I think its past time for new management. I intend to start a rebellion in Hell."

*****

EPILOGUE

So much had changed. Everything was different now. Almost everything.

Logan and Beauty stood in silent contemplation. Holding hands as they looked around their old, cavern shelter. The scorch marks from the battle still marked the walls of the entrance, but the cluster of crystals still glowed with the colors of a new sunrise. Both sulfur hot springs were just as they had left them. As was the bed of moss on which they had slept and found pleasure and comfort in each other, night after night.

He smiled. "Not much to look at now, is it?"

The fur blanket and pillow that had taken so many days of hunting and endless hours of crafting, lay folded near the bed of moss, where they had left it. Not long ago, its completion had been his highest priority. Now that they slept in a real bed, on linen sheets and cotton blankets, it seemed so crude and dirty.

Sticks, rocks, and bones lay near the fire pit. Everything that they could hunt and scrounge to survive just one more day. Almost everything.

"No, it sure ain't much to look at, but it was ours. Just you and me at first, and later, Karen. Our little sanctuary from a world gone mad."

"Home," Beauty said.

Logan turned to her and took her hands in his. "No," he replied. "This is just a cave. Over there is just a pool of hot water, and that is just moss. It was home because I had you and you had me."

The demon looked into his eyes and smiled. "Now and forever."

He took a deep breath. "You still want to do this?"

"Yes," she nodded.

He led her over to sit on the moss. After a few minutes, he got a fire started in their old fire pit. Until flames danced with a golden light that chased shadows and memories over the rough surface of the cavern walls.

Beauty removed her pack and set items out onto the moss between them. When both had completed their separate tasks, they looked into each other's eyes and undressed.

When they were both naked, Beauty picked up the waterskin and handed it to him.

"I give you beer and meat."

Logan smiled. "I give thanks for this gift. It kept me fed and gave me joy when it seemed I had no hope of either."

Logan picked up a knife and cut a small incision on his forearm. "I give you my Essence."

Beauty leaned in and licked the wound clean. "I give thanks for this gift. Logan gave purpose and joy where I thought to find only survival."

They leaned into one another, lips brushing together in a long, heartfelt kiss. Hands rose to touch and caress. Slowly, Logan pushed her back down onto the moss as their bodies molded together and aligned in perfect sync. Beauty spread her legs to welcome him inside of her.

A shudder of pleasure passed through them both as all of him gently filled all of her. He held her in his strong arms, even as she held him cradled inside the hot, silken depths of her body. A blissful union of flesh in the flickering, ruddy firelight.

He brushed his fingertips against her cheek, took a deep breath, and whispered to her, "I am Logan Baishan Proud Bear Proud Bear."

She smiled. "I am Kiamanekose."

They spoke together. Two voices floating among the silence and memories of this simple cavern where they had discovered so much more than just shelter.

"I am yours and you are mine. We are two made one. One soul. One destiny. Today until my last day."