September, 1938

  Cool wind picked up the sweet smell of yellow apples as it passed through rows of orchard trees. Edel felt it hit her face as she stood in the yard near the porch of a very large orchard house. Watching her funny Scarecrow friend chase around a dog in the grass, she felt a wave of melancholy hit her.

  She thought of the day she had been taken into the Seething Deep, a few years ago in New York City. Sometimes these memories moved to the front of her mind; times before her ascendance, her transformation.

  With a sigh Edel thought of that young Six-Gun who had tried desperately to save her from the Doctor. He wore the deltas, that triangle pattern on his poncho. It made her think of the man her knight had projected for her, the one who had brought her back into a sensory projection spell of his own. How frightening he had been, his eyes like a starving dog’s eyes. The two men were obviously different, but they both had that look to them.

  Violence.

  “Miss Edel! Miss Edel!” The calls of the Scarecrow shook her from her thoughts. “Look! He knows how to fetch!”

  She looked over to see the Scarecrow holding a gnarled piece of rope. Sitting obediently, the border collie panted with his tongue out. Edel smiled a bit, gesturing with her hand.

  “Go on and throw it!”

  The Yellow demon grinned wide with childlike wonder. So eager was he to impress the Tawny Princess, that he stretched his arm out unnaturally long. It acted like a fishing pole, swinging back and flicking forward. The rope soared a long way into the orchard, prompting the border collie to bolt after it.

  “Did I throw it good, Miss Edel? Did I?”

  She snickered a bit as his arm slurped back into him, regaining its normal shape. The uncanny ability of the Scarecrow to adjust the proportions of his body had at first unsettled her, but Edel got used to it. She had gotten used to many things in her Yellow world, such that she thought nothing could shake her anymore. The man in the deltas, the second one, had proven her wrong.

  “You threw it great.” She nodded, “You’re a real thrower.”

  Bouncing over gleefully, the Scarecrow pumped his fist. “That’s it! You could name me Thrower! That could be my name.”

  “Mmmm… no I don’t think that’s a great name.” Edel shook her head.

  Ever since he came to her, the Scarecrow had asked for a name. It was clear this demon wasn’t like D or the Coal Man, he hadn’t had a past life and soul. D even had an actual human body, though the true humanity of it could be called into question. But the Scarecrow was a different story. D had referred to him as a Golem, an artificial being. He needed a name, and he chose to let his Princess name him.

  This duty she had agreed to, but she couldn’t decide on a good name. Every time she thought of one it didn’t seem quite right. Every time he proposed one, as he did at that moment, the name simply didn’t fit. Edel believed the name would come to her in time, and she told him that his name would have to be the right one.

  In the time he had been with her, the Scarecrow looked more and more human. His jagged edges had softened, and his eyes had taken a more human shape. He seemed more lively to her too, his movements had at first been shaky and rough. Now, he had much greater control over his body.

  “Well, I’ll wait for the right one.” The scarecrow tapped his chin, “I know you’ll pull through.”

  Smiling, Edel nodded to her knight. She very much enjoyed his company. He had brought a childlike joy and wonder to her life which had been robbed from her by the Yellow Cult. Yet again, that fateful day in New York came to her mind. The Doctor had her and that gunslinger right where he wanted them. She truly lost control of her life that day.

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  “Everything alright?” D asked, now standing over her. His voice held a softness which lifted her spirits warmly.

  “Um, yes… I think.” She sniffled. “Why?”

  “My dear.” He wiped a tear which had run down her cheek, “It’s ok to be troubled.”

  Looking up to him, her thoughts raced. Things had truly been horrifying for her these past years. She had been lost, adrift in a sea of Yellow. But the man in front of her had been a port. He offered calmness, care, and surety. Though he belonged to the same power as all the others, he treated her differently. She sniffed again, letting herself offer her truth.

  “I feel… used.” Her eyes averted, “I don’t know…”

  D wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. “You are, darlin’. You are a tool, one of the King’s tools.”

  A creeping dread came over her as she listened to those words. They confirmed her pain, her heartbreak.

  “But…” He lifted her chin, “I’m a tool too. So is our man of coal, so is your future husband. So is he.” He pointed to the Scarecrow, now tumbling around with the border collie.

  “We’re all tools of the King. We are made to be used, and be useful.”

  Those words muddied her dreadful feelings with an odd comfort. Sensing her confusion, D held her tighter.

  “You don’t have to go through it alone anymore. I’ll be here for you, Princess. We’ll be tools together. When I bring your husband here, you’ll have him too. And the others. Together, we’ll usher in the King’s age. There’s a purpose to being tools that some people search for their entire lives. I felt lost for a long time until I found my place at the King’s feet.”

  After a long moment enjoying the paternal warmth of her knight, Edel looked back up to him.

  “D, tell me something.”

  The Prophet let his gaze wander to the rolling hills on the horizon, “Mhm, shoot.”

  “What’s the King’s plan, exactly? What’s the reason for him to have an age? Why do we hate Grady’s Posse?”

  Nodding, he processed those questions. “Well my darlin’, it’s really not the Posse we have a problem with. But they’ve become a barrier in the King’s path. In recent years, they’ve become a pretty significant one too.”

  Listening closely, she blinked up at him.

  “I would know, I was in the Posse. Gunslinger-sorcerers can tap into some of the fundamental power which governs the universe. It can be frightening. The real problem are America’s Covens, and Lilithin.”

  “Lilithin?” Edel had never heard that word before.

  “Try not to say it too many times, Princess.” He pat her shoulder, “Lilithin is a being much like the King. Her name doesn’t belong to us. I am borrowing it with my voice, at a cost. She’s a deity, one which has came from the old world. She doesn’t belong to the land called America. Her domain is Purple, the color of royalty. Her servants are America’s witches.”

  “I heard of Coven witches. I never thought they were bad.” Edel rubbed her hand’s together.

  “They are enemies Yellow, their order dominates the carnal nature of things, which is the opposite of our Lord’s influence. If we are a flame, they’re the running water. Our actual job is to overtake them, ushering in the Age of our King is the means to that end. We must crush the sisterhood of Lilithin.”

  A sweetness on the breeze crossed her nose, settling Edel a bit. She enjoyed the warmth of the Prophet and the smell of apples. His words filled many gaps in her understanding.

  “Then why would we worry so much over the Six-Guns? Do they need to go?” She rubbed her wrist.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He nodded, “The Six-Guns, like us, are tools. They are meant to be used by Lilithin’s kin. They’re used for protection, for muscle, for companionship. The Six-Guns are used by the Covens to make more of their witches, strengthened and fortified by Posse Alchemy. It is a parasitic relationship, where the Gun is a tool of the Witch.”

  “How awful…” She thought of her future husband, that young man with the handsome face.

  “Yes, and the worst part is that the Six-Guns do not even understand the Covens. They don’t know who Lilithin is, they know nothing of the women they call their partners.”

  “Do they have my husband?” She scowled; a new, odd feeling coming over her. The idea of some purple harlot enticing her pure Yellow husband struck her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

  Chuckling, D pat her again, “Fear not, Princess. Purple hates Yellow as much as Yellow hates Purple. They don’t want him. They toss him away, which is good for us.”

  Soft satisfaction settled Edel. She found her magic had flared with her temper, a towering wall of Yellow. Feeling calm once again, she breathed out.

  Smiling, D looked down at her. “You’re getting stronger every day. Looks like your magic is affecting the Scarecrow as well. Very soon, you will be strong enough to crush the sisterhood of Lilithin. The Posse will have to go too, but your husband will be with us, by your side.”

  Grady's Posse serves no higher power, they're not beholden to a patron deity. They mostly unknowingly serve Lilithin's interest in the USA. There are those within the Posse who understand the nature of the witches, but they keep the order how it is. In the past, the nature of the Covens had become a big point of contention for certain parties of Six-Guns. By the 1930s, those Six-Guns and their complaints had been crushed, and the Posse stands with the Covens and Lilithin against the Yellow Cult.