Chapter 5 – Fallen and Found

Shelter and Shadows

Kate’s POV

Stepping into the cabin, I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The hike through the dense forest had been tense, every snap of a twig setting my nerves on edge. But the sight of the shimmering barrier around the cabin brought a wave of relief. Here, we were safe. Cyrus closed the door behind us, the soft creak of the wooden floorboards oddly comforting. The cabin’s rustic charm, with its rough-hewn beams and flickering lights, was a stark contrast to the events of the past few days.

“Home sweet… well, not exactly home,” I muttered under my breath, trying to lighten the mood. Cyrus gave a slight chuckle. “It’s the best we’ve got for now.”

“So,” I said, turning to face him, “what’s the plan? Do I suddenly sprout wings or start glowing? Cure cancer? Should I be practicing my ‘healing hands’ technique?”

Cyrus leaned against the table, his expression thoughtful. “From what little I know, saintly powers are more about repairing what’s broken, not performing parlor tricks. Cancer, for instance, is uncontrolled growth, not something to be repaired. And death… well, that’s final.”

“Bummer,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

Cyrus moved to a nearby set of shelves and began pulling out books and scrolls. “Let’s see if we can dig up more specifics about saintly powers.”

After a few minutes of searching, he pulled out a thick, dusty tome and opened it. “According to this, it’s been… 112 years since anyone with saintly powers was documented,” he said, looking up at me. “There might have been others who never awakened their abilities, or who…” He trailed off, his expression grim.

Cyrus shut the old journal, his gaze meeting mine. “Demons are creatures born from disruptions in the natural order. Break a core rule of the universe, and you get a demon. They range from mindless beasts to cunning beings that can even mimic human appearance and behavior, making them even more dangerous because they blend in.”

I shivered, the memory of the demon attack still fresh in my mind. “So, they’re basically the universe’s unwanted houseguests, and I’m the cleaning lady with a holy mop? Got it.”

Cyrus nodded. “You’re restoring balance, fixing the damage they cause to reality itself. Your powers are their natural enemy. And that’s why the demons are after you – you’re ruining their fun.”

I stared at the ancient text on the table, its faded ink seeming to taunt me with its secrets. “These books… are they even reliable? Are you sure some ancient scribe didn’t just make this stuff up?”

Cyrus chuckled. “They’re our best shot. History can be a bit of a gossip, but there’s truth buried in there somewhere.”

I picked up one of the worn tomes, flipping through the pages. “So, what’s your deal? How prepared are we, really? Is this whole demon-hunting thing just you and your family, or is there more to it?”

Cyrus leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’ve been trained for this since I could barely walk,” he admitted. “Since both my parents are demon hunters, I grew up on a steady diet of combat drills and ancient lore. But saintly powers… those are a whole different ballgame. I never expected to actually meet a saint. It’s been so long since the last one that we figured they were extinct.”

I leaned in, intrigued. “So, who else is out there? Are there other demon hunters, like some kind of secret society?”

Cyrus hesitated, then sighed. “It’s… complicated. There’s a network of us, small groups spread out across the globe. A few hundred, maybe. We work in cells to stay under the radar and cover as much ground as possible.”

“Where are these other cells? What do they do all day?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“We’ve got bases in… key locations. Places with high demon activity or historical significance,” Cyrus explained after clearly contemplating for a moment how much he should share. “We track and eliminate demons, study ancient texts like these, recruit potential hunters… basically, we’re the supernatural pest control.”

“Wait, how do you guys make money?” I asked, suddenly realizing I had no idea how the demon-hunting economy worked.

“Let’s just say we’re not exactly rolling in it,” Cyrus said with a shrug. “Some of it’s old money, passed down through generations of hunters. We also get donations from folks who know about the demon problem and want to help. And occasionally, we take on some freelance gigs – you know, the usual exorcisms, poltergeist removals, the occasional haunted house inspection.”

I glanced around the cabin, impressed by their resources. “So, what was it like being groomed for demon-hunting since you were a kid?”

Cyrus ran a hand through his hair, a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. “Intense. My parents drilled everything into me. They drilled everything they knew into me, but they also encouraged me to find my own path. It wasn’t always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

I tilted my head, curious. “Did you ever consider a different career path? Something… less dangerous? You know, a normal job with, like, weekends and health insurance?”

A wistful smile touched his lips. “Of course. There were times when I dreamed of a normal life, maybe even a white picket fence and a golden retriever.” He paused, his gaze drifting to the flickering fire in the hearth. “But then I’d remember the people we protect, the lives we save. That’s what keeps me going.”

I nodded, appreciating his dedication. But then a thought struck me, and my brow furrowed. “Wait a second. Last night, you said demons usually leave humans alone unless they sense powers like mine. If that’s true, why are demon hunters even needed? It sounds like most people are safe.”

Cyrus’s expression hardened, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. “It’s not that simple, Kate. Demons might not always attack directly, but they can still wreak havoc on the world. They influence people, stir up natural disasters, spread disease… they’re like a virus, infecting everything they touch. Our job is to stop the spread.”

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. “Okay, but how do you even fight them? Do you just, like, stake them through the heart or something?”

Cyrus chuckled. “Sometimes, yeah. But it’s not always that straightforward. We have to be careful, especially with the shapeshifters. We can’t just go around attacking random people. We investigate, gather evidence, and then, if necessary, we neutralize the threat.”

“And how do you know if someone’s actually possessed and not just, like, having a bad day?” I asked, genuinely curious.

A mischievous glint appeared in Cyrus’s eyes. “Oh, there have been a few… mishaps.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Once, we were convinced this guy was possessed. He was ranting in gibberish, throwing furniture around… the whole nine yards. We were ready to go full exorcist on him, holy water and all.” He paused, a grin spreading across his face. “Turns out, he was just a really dedicated method actor preparing for a play.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “That must have been awkward.”

Cyrus shrugged, his grin widening. “You have no idea. But hey, live and learn, right? We’ve gotten a lot better at distinguishing between demonic possession and just plain weirdness since then. Look for the telltale signs – unnatural strength, speaking in languages they shouldn’t know, a sudden aversion to garlic bread…” He winked playfully.

“Garlic bread?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, you never know,” he said with a shrug. “Could be a new trend in demonic weaknesses.”

We shared a laugh, the tension easing slightly. Cyrus’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and I couldn’t help but notice how his smile transformed his usually serious features. For the first time, Cyrus seemed less like a stoic warrior and more like… well, a guy. A distractingly handsome guy, with a disarming smile and striking blue eyes that were, at this very moment, making me forget all about demons and ancient texts. I noticed Cyrus’s gaze linger on me for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes sparkling with a warmth I hadn’t noticed before. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed my sudden fluster.

“So,” Cyrus said, leaning back in his chair, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine, “enough about me. What about you, Kate? How did a nice girl like you end up digging up old, dead people’s trash?”

I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. “It’s a family affair,” I said, my voice a little higher than usual. “My dad’s an archaeologist, and my mom was an anthropologist. I practically grew up on dig sites and in museums, surrounded by dusty artifacts and fascinating stories.”

Cyrus nodded, genuinely interested. “Sounds like an interesting childhood. Did you always know you wanted to follow in their footsteps?”

I chuckled, recalling my childhood fascination with ancient civilizations. “Pretty much. I was always more interested in uncovering the past than playing with dolls. My parents were incredibly supportive, letting me tag along on digs and even giving me small tasks to help out. I guess you could say I was born to do this.”

Cyrus’s brow furrowed. “What about your mom? You mentioned she disappeared when you were fourteen. Could her disappearance be connected to what’s happening now?”

The question caught me off guard, a wave of anxiety washing over me. “I… I hadn’t even considered that,” I stammered. “I always thought it was an accident, but now…”

Cyrus’s expression turned serious. “What was she working on before she disappeared? Anything unusual or potentially linked to the supernatural?”

I racked my brain, trying to recall the details. “She was passionate about ancient cultures and their rituals. She had a particular interest in some old Dacian sites, which is why I was so excited to join this project. I remember her talking about a dig with some unusual findings, but I was too young to understand the significance.”

Cyrus leaned forward, his eyes intense. “If she stumbled upon something related to your powers, or maybe even had powers herself, that could explain why she was targeted.”

The thought sent a chill down my spine. “She was always so passionate about her work, always seeing connections that no one else did. If she discovered something important… or if she had powers like mine…”

Cyrus placed a comforting hand on my arm. “We need to look into her research. There could be clues there that can help us understand what’s happening now.”

I nodded, a flicker of hope sparking within me. “Thank you, Cyrus.”

He gave me a small smile. “We’re in this together, Kate. We’ll figure it out.”

His gaze shifted to the window, a shadow passing over his face. “Speaking of figuring things out… what about your dad? How’s he taking all of this?”

I sighed, thinking of my father. “He’s a strong man, but he’s never really recovered from losing Mom. He threw himself into his work, and we’ve grown closer over the years, but the pain is still there.”

Cyrus nodded in understanding. “It’s best we keep this from him for now. Let’s get a handle on the situation before we worry him unnecessarily.”

I agreed, feeling a wave of gratitude for his thoughtfulness. I felt a glimmer of hope. With Cyrus by my side, maybe we could actually figure this out.

We spent the rest of the day immersed in a whirlwind of ancient texts and scrolls. The cabin became a symphony of rustling pages and the occasional clink of teacups as we tried to maintain some semblance of focus. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, a sense of frustration started to creep in.

The bulk of Cyrus’s collection was a demon hunter’s guidebook on steroids. I learned about demon species with names I couldn’t pronounce, their origin stories (some more believable than others), and their weaknesses. There were tales of epic battles fought by demon hunters of old, the unsung heroes of the supernatural world, and the sacrifices they made to protect humanity. I learned about demons that could possess people, twist reality like a funhouse mirror, and even shapeshift into your average Joe. Each new tidbit was both fascinating and slightly nausea-inducing, a stark reminder of the freaky dangers lurking out there.

But information on saintly powers? That was like trying to find a decent Wi-Fi signal in a cave – frustratingly elusive. A few scattered references to healers, some cryptic prophecies… nothing concrete about what I was supposed to do with these newfound abilities.

As the hours slipped by, daylight began to fade. I glanced out the window, the sky a fiery canvas of orange and pink. “So much demon drama, so little saintly guidance,” I grumbled, tossing a particularly cryptic scroll onto the growing pile. “It’s like these guys wrote an encyclopedia on demon-hunting but forgot to include the chapter on ‘Saints: A User’s Manual.”

Cyrus chuckled, running a tired hand through his hair. “We’ll have to make do with what we’ve got. Tomorrow, we’ll take this crash course in demonology and try to put it into practice. Maybe a little hands-on experience will unlock some of your saintly secrets.” He offered a weary but reassuring smile. “We’ve made some progress today, even if it feels like we’re just scratching the surface.”

A spark of determination flared in his eyes. “We’ll figure this out, Kate. I promise.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, not entirely from fear. The intensity in his gaze was… unnerving, in the best possible way. I tore my eyes away, focusing on packing up the notes we’d made, then gathered up the scattered scrolls and stacked them neatly on the table. But as I glanced out the window, the hair on my arms began to rise. The forest outside had transformed into a menacing silhouette against the darkening sky. The protective wards around the cabin glowed softly, pulsing with energy, but the usual sense of security felt diminished. I could not quite put my finger on it but scene in front of me just felt…. off.

Turning away from the window, I bumped into Cyrus, who had silently moved behind me. His warmth was a stark contrast to the chill that had settled over me. His closeness sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I caught a whiff of his earthy scent – leather and sandalwood, with a hint of something else I couldn’t quite place. He, too, was staring out into the darkness, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“It’s getting dark,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We should probably call it a night and rest up for tomorrow.”

Cyrus didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the forest, his jaw clenched. “Something’s not right,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “Stay close.”

The cozy atmosphere of the cabin vanished, replaced by a prickling unease. The protective wards around the cabin flickered, casting strange, dancing shadows on the walls. I peered out the window, trying to see what had caught his attention.

Cyrus moved away from the window, his movements swift and purposeful. “Get ready,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We might have company.”

My heart hammered in my chest as the reality of the situation sank in. The cabin, our supposed sanctuary, suddenly felt vulnerable. I scanned the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, my mind racing.

Cyrus reached for his sword, a glint of steel in the dim light. His eyes met mine, a silent message passing between us. “The wards should hold,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “But there’s something… different about this.”

The soft glow of the wards seemed to waver, reflecting the uncertainty and tension in the air. A low growl, like the rumble of distant thunder, echoed through the silence of the night. Something was out there.