Chapter 13

Two men stood looking at the prone form of their leader. They just received the report that the man wanting to join them, a Christopher Jones, was just killed by someone a very powerful. It didn't look like magic that killed him, but they also had no idea at this point how he died.

The men weren't too broken up about it because they felt the fool was wrong to be experimenting on children and they wouldn't miss him. He contacted them before with a deep desire to join their ranks and said he would bring with him some powerful magic as proof of his desire.

While they wanted to collect all magic and possible uses with it, they didn't want anyone around them who so callously used it to harm innocents. That would diminish them all as well as tarnish all of what they were trying to accomplish

Raspin Carmichael last season was also killed by the same man they believed killed Chris, as they could later see that he was only using their organization to fuel his own lust for power.

Carmichael never seemed to be worth the return for all the effort that went into him, and his drive for power was one of the draw backs that made him someone that they would have had to eventually deal with.

From all reports both of the men who were killed were probably done in by a Battlemage, but the man in question never seemed to carry a weapon and barely used magic, so he needed to be better investigated.

They would soon need to dedicate a spy to watching his every movement until they learned more about him.

As they returned their attention back to their leader, from their records he was supposed to be very powerful mage and had lead their forces and all the people of their island into a golden age just over 4,000 seasons ago.

They tried to live their lives the way he had instructed them to, well as best as they could from their records over the seasons, and they tried to keep everything the way it was from the last time he was with them. They tried to do what they could to make it feel as if he hadn't ever left when he returned to them.

One pair of men from the group always checked on him once three times a day at different times to see if he had returned to them. The shock of White hair was different to see on someone whose face seemed so young, but what was strange was the angry red energy that was all around his body.

It softly sounded like a million bees buzzing around and the records say that the men who managed to carry him this far eventually died from their wounds. It seemed that even using magic to protect them from the energy that surrounded him didn't work, and whatever that spell was, it eventually cut through their defensive spells they used to protect them as they carried him and killed them all.

One man looked over at the other and said "Do you think he'll eventually wake up in our lifetime? I've read the reports and they say that we will gain power unknown from his guidance, but I have to admit I'm curious what that means."

"I'm not sure Staven, but the reports I've read said that he was very intelligent as well. But they are a little fuzzy on what happened. I'm curious if he was so powerful how he got brought down," said the second man.

"Well Chase, short of him waking up and telling us in our lifetime we may never know," said Staven.

Shaking their heads, and realizing that their duty to check on him was over they both headed for the door to sign off with the guard that they did their rounds. They were in his mansion in one of the back rooms. One of the reports said that this had happened once before to him as well and this was where they left him.

As they reached the door, the soft buzzing that was always part of the background noise stopped and they could tell that the soft light was now gone as well.

Spinning around as one man they both turned and just caught sight of Wolfgang as he screamed out at the top of his lungs while at the same time sitting bolt upright in his bed: "BRIANNA DON'T! STOP IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STTTOOOOPPPP!!!" as he threw up and crossed both of his hands in front of his face, as he also turned his head to the side as if he was warding off an incoming blow.

As he came to his senses he realized he was in a bed in a room and two men who he had never seen before were staring wide eyed at him questioningly from his outburst. They were trying to make out why he just did that.

"Master Wolfgang," asked Staven in quiet voice and in wonder after a few moments of quiet as they continued to stare at their leader.

"<Sigh> so how long was I out for this time?" was the only question asked by Wolfgang as looked around and recognized the room right before he started to get off the bed.

A lone figure stood off to the distance hidden behind a large tree and watched as four children played in the waning light in their back yard.

The house wasn't the most expensive on the block, but it was a very nice looking four bedroom unit. Because it was on the corner lot and next to a wooded area he was able to stand there unseen as he watched them.

As he stood watching he could see two boys and two girls playing in the back yard. One of the boys looked to be older than the others. There was also another little boy fairly close to his age and twin girls that also played in the back yard as well.

The oldest should be about ten, and if his digging, the timing, and his information was correct, the other children were eight for the other boy and seven for the twin girls.

She had been right that night of course.

Not to long after that night he realized that he was in fact being watched more closely than he realized. He managed to shake them off from time to time over the years but they were really persistent and those spies seemed to be everywhere, there was no way he could relax even for a moment.

Dusty knew he couldn't take the chance on leading them back here where they might ruin their lives so this was to be his only visit back to his world. But he had to at least see the boy one time with his own eyes to remember him. There was no denying his straight brown hair and rich brown eyes from where he was standing. He would know those features anywhere and in turn where the boy got them.

"JAMES EDWIN MITCHELL JR.! I've already called you twice before. I will not do it again. Now bring in your brother and sisters in and help set the table for dinner," rang out a loud voice that could almost be heard all over the neighborhood.

Looking her direction he couldn't help but realize that even while frowning Lindsey was still one of the most attractive women he still knew as he saw her standing at the back door of her home looking disapprovingly in to the yard before she turned and headed back in.

Even after four children she still maintained that much sought after figure of hers, and he knew it must be tough to fend off all the men determined to get their hands on at least part of it. But she would still be better off not knowing he was there watching.

She had a new life and a new husband who by all appearances spoiled her rotten and took very good care of the all the children in his care.

In his research to insure everything worked out for her, he had found that she had told everyone that she had indeed moved, that she was a widow, and named the child James Mitchell "Junior" after him, and even though she had later married her current husband, the child still carried his full name.

"Dusty, we better go inside before it gets too late. We don't want to make Mom anymore mad," said the other little boy as he looked from his older brother back towards the house that his mother had just disappeared back into.

"Don't worry about it. I know how to handle her. For some reason she can't resist it when I smile at her, hug her, and tell her everything will be alright," smiled little Dusty

Smiling the older brother seemed to grab them all in a quick hug as he forced them all towards the house, laughing at something different as they went inside. He seemed like a good big brother as he tried to lift their spirits as they all headed in.

Dusty tried hard not let his eyes mist over as he watched the children head into the house. He would never be allowed to be in this child's life for fear of him being killed because of it.

As he turned to leave he thought about his previous three trips back in time, how that worked out, and then his mind drifted to his and Suzan's children over the years.

Even though he told himself that he only went back in time four times, he never counted this trip because it wasn't a travel back in time as much as it was a lateral movement into another world.

He then remembered that Lori's husband Mark had died recently and he knew that even though they drifted apart over the years he should at least go pay his respects. He remembered how when Suzan died several years back how hard it hit him and he still was dealing with it at times. He still missed her so much that it hurt.

Mark was a good man and she needed to know that all her surviving friends still cared about her and would help support her in her loss.

While he remembered that they would eventually end up together, he needed to let her grieve for a while for the man she loved, as he still did for Suzan from time to time, and eventually everything would work out.

Getting the mail the next day before the children came home from school, Lindsey saw a very thick FedEx package in the mailbox addressed to her.

It had no return address, but she knew who it was from because she would recognize that hand writing anywhere. Lindsey smiled as she realized that he thought enough of them to try and get a message to them, even though he was in a position of possible danger.

She was able to be home because while she hadn't quit working, she was working reduced, almost part time hours, in the mornings so that she could be home for her children. She was able to find a job as a paralegal at a small firm that also specialized in Patent law in her current home in Ohio.

As she went into the house she sat down at the kitchen table and opened the package. In the package was a neatly hand written letter, some stocks and bonds, and a list with times and dates written on it. She decided to read the letter first to see what it was and to make sense of what it was.