----------------------------------------------- Ash is all that remains ----------------------------------------------- A female, warm voice woke me up. “Mom?” I sat up and stroke my eyes. “I dreamed you were dead! It was horrible! I killed somebody.” Finally my eyes could be opened. A confused human nurse was staring at me. It was not a dream. I was panicky looking around. This has to be a tent. There were medical instruments, nurses and wounded people. I jumped up and ran through the row of the wounded until I reached the exit. It was raining outside, about afternoon or early evening. Some other tents were here and a few cars. Really old ones, early industrial age maybe. The land of liberty should have this age of time right now. “Am I still dreaming? Am I dead? The nurse from before rushed out of the tent behind me with a pair of pants in her hand. MY pair of pants. I realised my nudity but I didn’t care somehow. She gave me my pants with a clearly noticeable blush in her face. “Please put them on, everybody can see your… thingy.” Her voice was slightly embarrassed but kind of cute. Back in the tent, she gave me also a formal shirt and a pair of shoes. A man came in, a lizard with war paints of a dessert tribe but a correct organized Van Hellsing uniform. He stopped in front of me. “You, cat, follow.” “You aren’t a man of many words, aren’t you?” He pointed his finger to the exit. He led me to the biggest of the tents. Our clothes were wet from the rain as we entered. The lizard left. I saw Srg. Marks sitting at his desk. In front of him was my fathers’ revolver on the desk. “Take a seat, please.” He pointed on the empty chair in front of the desk. Slowly and with care, was I walking towards him and sat down. “I know this gun. It belongs to a friend of mine. How did you get it?” His voice was powerful and serious. “It was my fathers, sir.” “What’s your fathers’ name?” It seems he wants to test me. I guess he knows my answer. “Blake Harris Lockwood, sir.” Obviously relaxed, was his look now. “So he had a son then, I see. What’s your name?” “Nathan Blake Lockwood, sir.” “I see, indeed.” His face got more serious again. “Nathan, I know you have questions. But please tell me what happened first.” My stomach tied up and tears began to water my eyes. I wiped them away, took a deep breath and told him everything. “I am very sorry, Nathan. I…” He was somehow speechless. “Those separatists came around midnight in a large group about twenty to twenty five men from Oldcastle. They took everything they could. Money, food, guns and working supplies. After that they burned everything down. If the report from our scouts came earlier, maybe we would have arrived sooner and prevented more damage.” “How many?” “Huh? Marks looked confused. “How many are dead?” Marks face turned very sinister. He hesitated first but answered then. “I have to be honest, you are the first one we found alive.” The knot in my stomach got tighter. I searched for words. “A few of my man died defending a group of children. The separatists executed them all” Marks eyes became blurry and he clenches his fist. “We got seventeen of them. The rest got away.” No one has survived. I can’t believe this. What should I do now? It is evening by now. The sky cleared up and so did my mind. I was accepting my fate more and more. Marks approached behind me while I was gazing at the oncoming stars beside a small river nearby Woodarch and the Van Hellsing camp. He handed me out my fathers’ revolver. “Thank you, I guess.” It felt cold but familiar. Father let me shoot with it often. He always said: “We Lockwoods aren’t strong with swords or axes. So we have to train our marksman skills instead, to protect us and our beloved ones.” Marks sat beside me. “Why did you know my father? He wasn’t in your department.” “He wasn’t indeed. His workplace was in the thievery investigation department. I’ve met him when he investigated the disappearing of the kings’ war paintings.” “London in England on Cis (Earth)?” “No, London in Britannia here on Caelum. Let me continue. The crisis management department had prevent an escalation. King Michael suspected the ambassador of Germany and wanted revenge. We came into conversation and became friends later. He had connections to the Moonclaw Pack. Van Hellsing learned about this and fired him. I never saw him again after that.” “Wait, wait, wait! He got fired? Mother told me he died in duty! And what is the Moonclaw Pack?” “I know nothing about your fathers’ death. But stay away from the Moonclaw Pack. Those lousy scoundrels getting us always in trouble. It’s a pack of outlaws with no future. Nothing in mind but revenge on society and crimes against the civilian infrastructure.” Marks got up and left towards the camp. The Moonclaw Pack… I have to know more. Around midnight, I sneaked back into the town. The rain had extinguished nearly all fires. Everything was lighten up by the lux crystal lanterns and it was dead silent. Only a crackling noise was hearable in the background. I headed straight to the remains of the graveyard, unseen by any guards. My black fur was nearly invisible in the night and my cat agility allowed me to move easily over the rooftops and through small alleys. Back on the graveyard, I suppressed my memories of this place and went into the mausoleum. The secret switch to open the tunnel was found in no time. So I headed back to fathers office. “Come on, there have to be some hints in this place.” I searched for hours. Always with this strange feeling, knowing that this pile of ash was my loved home once. My thoughts became distracted as I found an unopened letter addressed to me. My neck fur was bristling up as I opened it. My dearest son, Nathan The fact that you are reading this, tells me that I have died and you reached your eighteenth year of life. In that case, happy birthday my son. I hope you have a great time and plentiful luck on your future path. If you are reading this because your mother gave it to you in case of great danger, read this passage carefully. Travel to London, search the hotel named “The drunk fellows sleep”. Knock on the door of rom 13 and Say “The mistress of the moon will enlighten my path” you will hear “even though the darkest of nights”. The door will open. Say my name and introduce yourself. My fellow friend “The white beast of Helvetia” and the Moonclaw Pack will help you. DO NOT ASK VAN HELLSING FOR HELP. Trust me. Best wishes, Blake Harris Lockwood I can somehow understand why mother always made fun of fathers’ letters. But it was nice to read something from him. The letter was stored carefully in my pocket as I left. Right before sunset, I arrived back at the Camp and got caught by Marks. “Why are you sneaking around here?” “I was just thirsty.” He held my arm when I tried to leave. “Pack your stuff. I have to leave my report in London and I want you to come with me.” My luck was incredible but I played hard to get. “Why should I? Why do you command me around?” “I want to introduce you to my boss. Maybe he has some use for you since you have nowhere else to go.” Of course I had somewhere to go, he just can’t know that. I nodded slightly. “Good. Pack your stuff then.” I tried to look as fragile as possible as I said: “Ash is all that remains.” He hid his face behind his hat, “We depart in two hours.” then he walked away.