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Through a door latched with black metal, the children followed their grandfather into a quaint colonial pub on which time had scarcely left a mark. From the open rafters of the low ceiling, unlit lanterns hung above antique wooden furnishings. The few lights that revealed the chips of the original paint and rough brick walls came from above the dented copper bar and the turf embers in the impressive fireplace. If it weren't for the subtly placed wiring on the lanterns, a few carefully placed TVs, and a pair of modern beer taps, it would have been as if they had stepped back in time.
Callen looked at the heads of stuffed animals, muskets that hung above the fireplace, and hand-carved furniture as he breathed in the smells of hops, smoking turf and burning wood. With the warmth, he instantly calmed and felt safe. He even allowed himself to think about how nice it would be to sit on one of the large comfy couches near with his computer. He could even rest his feet on one of the low tables and warm his feet by the fire.
Behind the bar stood a fat, fair skinned dwarf dressed in a white button-down shirt, a black apron, and a beat-up ball cap. He gently polished a clay mug with a moist cloth. He hung the mug on a hook that hung from the ceiling among hundreds of others all with the same decorative seal that read: 'The Heavenly Pint.' The dwarf's hair was a ruddy brown and kept back in a tight ponytail and his beard was kept neat with braids similar to Corth's, yet different in style and lacking the beads or feathers. His right eye was covered with an eye patch.
"Welcome back, Corth." The dwarven bartender reached over the bar and both clasped each other's right forearms in a hearty shake. "I didn't expect yeh would be back so soon. After what yeh said I figured yeh would be with yer family. Guess yeh decided to bring back some unfortunate victims?" The dwarf spoke with a similar accent to Corth and the flickering firelight from the torches painted a warm glow across his skin as the crow's feet and wrinkles filled with inky shadows.
"Lad, yeh know the council forbids me from takin' in any more orphans. Yeh don't think I be stupid enough to do that with the mess we be facin,' do yeh?"
"No." The dwarven bartender laughed. "But yeh never know."
"But these not be just any random victims, lad." Corth was grim. "These be me grandkids."
"I knew you were goin' there, but I didn't realize yeh would be bring them here. Where's Eve?" The bartender's face looked worried. "What happened?"
Corth just shook his head.
"That bad?" The dwarf scratched a part of the scar that poked out from beneath his eye patch. "Maybe it's best if yeh keep this ol' retired vet in the dark."
"Aye.," Corth grunted. With a deep breath, he looked back to the children and his foreboding demeanor shifted when he let it out. "Children, forgive me, I'm being rude. Callen, Ania...this be Rurik Brewer."
Callen looked around the bar. "Fitting."
"Aye, it not be a coincidence, lad." Rurik chuckled. "The oldest member o' me family always be clan Greftar's brew masters." He smiled warmly and checked his watch. "Luckily fer this ol' place me battle scars had gotten the best o' me, so I was able to inherit it. I couldn't deny the rest."
"And the ale got quite a bit better too." Corth chuckled. "But, retirement is something I long fer as well." He let out a long sigh. "There still be too much going on and not enough of us left to face it."
"Face what?" Callen asked.
Corth sighed. "Well, the jury still be out."
"What was it?" Rurik asked. "What type of demon?"
Corth gave Rurik a hard stare.
"Yeh mean..."
Corth nodded.
"You know what those things are?!" Callen yelled. "I asked before and you said you had no idea!"
"We don't have any idea, lad," Rurik confirmed. "We have only run into them a few times in the last few decades.." He paused when he saw the looks of confusion crossing the children's faces. "There be plenty o' time to discuss specific monsters later. I can only imagine yeh brought these two here fer some lunch. Let me go whip something up. Me thinks yer grandpa be having some explaining to do."
Rurik limped into the kitchen.
Callen looked towards his Grandfather. Rurik was right. He needed answers. However, the look on his grandfather's face was so very dark and his old eyes held a scar-carved warning that even a partial answer came at a horrible price.
"So, where are we?" Ania sounded much more mystified and caught up in the realization that their grandfather was a dwarf. "What exactly is this place?"
"Well, this place belongs to Clan Greftar." Corth rubbed his beard. "Me kin have kept it since before the revolution."
"How are these dwarves your kin?" Ania's face creased with curiosity. "You know, ignoring the question of how dwarves exist, of course."
"I guess that be a good enough spot to start as any." Corth chuckled to try to lighten the mood. "Well, first me pop was part o' clan Greftar, as is Rurik and all the other dwarves here. Brewer is just one o' the several families that are included in our clan's history. Me mum, however, be an Ohdow."
"Ohdow?" Callen shook his head. "What's that?"
"It's actually not complicated, lad." Corth's voice was warm, welcoming and calming, like he was just their old grandfather telling them bedtime stories. "Different cultures have different names for creatures that are the same. Ohdow are just Native American dwarves, nothing more." He cut a complicated explanation short in order to keep the traumatized children from being overwhelmed further.
"How is this even real?" Callen still had a hard time believing what was happening.
"There be many theories but there be no real answers. What matters is that monsters have been around, well, as long as there be people, maybe longer."
"So, you're a monster?" Callen asked. He tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but being that kind of strong wasn't something he was used to. He always had his mother for that. So, his voice trembled a little.
"No lad. Dwarves not be monsters. We were perhaps different from humans once, but not anymore." Corth's voice sounded reassuring. "There are others though. They aren't human, can never be human, and don't want to be. A wolf never wants to be a sheep."
"Where did you come from?" Ania sounded wide with wonder. "Err..sorry, that was rude." She covered her mouth.
Corth laughed. "Well lass, there are many legends that attempt to explain that, but they are so old that any truths in them have eroded with time. And as fer a better explanation, you would have to ask God."
"So, supernatural creatures exist," Callen said slowly as if accepting it was like he had just swallowed a large pill without a sip of water. His mind struggled for a rational explanation, but he came up empty and he had no choice but to accept the lump in his throat.
"Supernatural not be the right word lad." Corth gently corrected. "Occult be a better choice. Occult means hidden, while supernatural implies that things are unnatural, and all this be anything but unnatural. The easiest way to put it be that demons exist as do many other things from myth and legend. But lad, I think what yer sister be looking fer an answer that be a bit more personal." He took a swig of juice as Ania nodded. "So, what exactly do yeh know about yer parents?"
"Our father was a scientist, and Mom was a cashier at an electronics store," Ania answered.
"I remember he was a professor at UPenn." Callen sighed. "We're not far from there are we?"
"No lad, actually this ol' pub is only a few miles from there," Corth admitted. "But, Aye, yer pop is a scientist...err...o' sorts. But, yer mom was more than just a cashier. She was an operative of our mother church. A knight actually, like me, but better." Pride hung on the old dwarf's tongue. "In fact, we be a secret order of the Catholic church that has been hunting demons and other fiends for centuries."
"Excuse me?" Callen's voice was ripe with skepticism.
"Wait, does this include, like...umm...magic?" Ania was wide-eyed with excitement.
"Aye, lass, magic. That be part of the picture." Corth's grim expression grew darker. "But, magic, well, that's a bit more difficult of a topic to explain, much like how all the occult things in this world exist. Perhaps they're even connected, but I don't know..."
"Wait, hold on." Callen shook his head. "Are you saying the crazy medical supplies, the hidden passage the truck went into and the stuff in the garage are magic?"
"No lad. That just be some clever technology and a lot of really ingenious engineering...we don't rely on magic. It be unpredictable to say the least."
The word 'cool' slipped out of Callen's lips. However, his grandfather's somber expression told him it was anything but. The old dwarf just stared at the boy. His dark orbs briefly lost their luster. A shiver ran down Callen's spine.
"And the magic?" Ania's forehead wrinkled with worry. "Is that what happened to Mom?"
"Maybe, lass. Magic is evil." He sighed. "And...before yeh get started...I know where you're going...magic will not save yer mum."
She looked confused. "So, what is magic then?"
"Some say it be incomplete knowledge of creation that Satan stole from God during his war for Heaven, but there are other explanations as well." His voice stayed low and dark. "However, there is much older stuff that has been lost over time, but who's to say where that came from exactly. Regardless, it comes from places where even the most pious of men should never venture, and even for us, dealing with any magic requires extreme caution."
"Caution?" Rurik laughed as he exited the kitchen with a tray loaded with breakfast food. "That's an understatement. This lad be a by the book demon hunter who has been protecting the world for, what are you, 35 years shy of a century?" Rurik seemed to wink at Corth, but it came off as more of a blink considering his missing eye.
Corth laughed. "Yeh don't get this old from being reckless."
"Aye." A painful look fell over the bartender's face, as if he remembered the deep pain, both physical and psychological, that came with his injuries. "Ya also don't end up like a half-blind cripple like meself." He began serving the plates of eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, and orange juice.
"Guess yeh should have listened to me." Corth chuckled.
"Guess I should have," Rurik answered. "But then I'd be pounding the pavement, like yeh, instead of enjoying my retirement."
"I thought we were having lunch." Ania watched Rurik grab three mugs from above the bar and filled them high with orange juice.
"We'll call it brunch then, lass." Rurik handed her a mug. "Figured yeh missed breakfast and I had all the stuff out from cookin' fer the monks earlier." He started serving the children and Corth.
She nodded. "No bacon for me."
Callen loaded his eggs with ketchup and took a bite. They tasted delicious, probably even more so than they really were considering how hungry he was. "So, how do my sister and I fit into all of this?"
"Well lad, it's simple, slaying demons be in yer blood." Rurik answered.
"So, if that's true, why didn't anyone tell us?" Ania still sounded both frightened and excited.
"Lass, yer mum and pop kept a lot o' secrets." Corth's voice was heavy with pain. "All I can say be that the best answers lie with yer mum..."
"I heard you and my mom talking last night...just before..." Callen shivered.
"Well...I had no choice but to contact yer mum." Corth admitted. "Something showed up that is connected to yer pop." Corth reached into his coat pocket. "This arrived here two nights ago...it be addressed to yeh." He handed Callen a small box wrapped with golden apple motif wrapping paper. There was a folded piece of paper that read The Key of Creation. To: Callen Love: Dad.
Callen's heart jumped. "Do you know where he is?"
"No lad. It just showed up. I woke up one morning and found it on me desk. I had the handwriting sample confirmed. Yer pop wrote it. I had no choice but to deliver it to you as fast as I could and yer mum agreed."
"Open it, Callen," Ania said.
He tore open the wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside was a silver Celtic cross. He unraveled the chain and rubbed his finger over the old Celtic cross. "Wow." He knew how important this simple cross was to his father.
His mind flooded with questions, the dominant one being why did his father refer to the cross as 'The Key of Creation?' His father had never called the cross that before. However, one thing was for sure, his father was alive as of a few days ago.
"He had to have a reason to send it to you, but couldn't find you and sent it to me. I was coming to get yeh three so we could make sense o' this. Then, those monsters struck the hospital and your apartment building."
"Could they be related?" Rurik asked.
"I suppose it be possible, but I don't know, lad." Corth said. "Either way, I gonna be gettin' to the bottom o' this."
"Aye." Rurik looked at the three plates that were scraped clean. "You should take yer grandkids to see their mum. I'll clean up here."
"Aye." Corth nodded. "Thanks, Rurik.”