It was after the harrowing mission in Rachel, Nevada, and our narrow escape from the local authorities that began weighing heavy on my mind. That confrontation with the police had been rather unsettling; it seemed to be a sobering reminder that even with victory in our grasp, the nature of our position is very fragile. I returned to the order's stronghold deep in the Scottish Highlands, where I would seek solace in the quiet shadows of the sanctuary that seems so familiar now.

I spent time reading some books on the science of manipulation and intimidation to hopefully avoid such encounters more easily in the future. After hours of relentless training, exhausted but focused, I went to the heart of the lair where the sacred flame was which had long been extinguished since my father's death. I could hardly believe it, a faint but bright ember was glowing.

Nicneven, the Goddess to whom I pledged my life, spoke. Her voice was soft yet powerful, a whisper that travelled like the wind, piercing my mind.

C̸E̶D̷R̸I̶C̴,̶ ̸T̶H̸O̵U̷ ̶H̷A̵S̶T̶ ̸P̴R̴O̸V̶E̵N̶ ̷T̴H̸Y̴ ̴S̷T̸R̷E̸N̴G̶T̶H̵ ̸A̴N̴D̷ ̸D̴E̴V̶O̶T̶I̶O̵N̷.̵ ̶T̴H̸E̷ ̵F̶L̵A̶M̷E̵ ̸W̶I̵T̶H̴I̵N̸ ̶T̶H̷E̶E̷ ̴I̶S̶ ̷S̵T̷E̴A̶D̵F̷A̴S̷T̴,̴ ̶Y̴E̶T̷ ̸T̷H̵E̶R̶E̶ ̶I̶S̴ ̵M̵O̷R̵E̴ ̸T̷O̸ ̷U̷N̴C̸O̵V̶E̵R̵,̷ ̶M̷O̸R̷E̴ ̷P̷O̴W̸E̴R̸ ̴T̷O̷ ̷G̶R̵A̷S̴P̵.̷ ̷T̷H̷O̷U̴ ̵A̵R̸T̶ ̶R̴E̴A̷D̶Y̵ ̵T̸O̶ ̸A̵S̶C̴E̷N̸D̵ ̵T̵O̶ ̷A̴ ̸H̶I̷G̸H̴E̴R̶ ̸R̴E̵A̷L̷M̵ ̸O̸F̶ ̴M̴A̵S̸T̵E̶R̴Y̶.̶

G̴A̷T̵H̶E̴R̷ ̴M̵O̸R̵E̶ ̴O̴F̸ ̷T̸H̸Y̴ ̸B̶R̵E̸T̴H̵E̴R̸I̵N̵,̵ ̶S̶C̶A̴T̸T̸E̵R̸E̸D̴ ̵A̵M̶O̵N̵G̴S̸T̶ ̵T̵H̶E̵ ̶A̴S̵H̸E̷S̸.̷

The words had me in wonder, feeling a sense of my purpose. As she spoke, warmth surged through me, all-encompassing. The ember in the sacred flame came to life, and I felt its power bonding with mine, a power beyond the flesh. The warmth came to concentrate on my back, growing hotter until it threatened to be too much to endure, and then, as if answering my expectation with surprising suddenness, I felt them, wings pure and living fire unfolding from my back.

I told her I would not fail her.

After the chaos of Vietnam, I needed time to breathe, to process. I returned to the lair, the familiar shadows of the Highlands bringing some comfort. My mind kept drifting back to the ambush—Dimitri’s near-death, the jungle’s suffocating grip, and how close we all came to losing everything. Nicneven’s flame had saved me, but I needed more than just the fire.

I spent hours in meditation before the Sacred Flame, training my body and mind. I’d hoped Nicneven would guide me toward something new, something that could protect not only myself but my comrades in the heat of battle. My swordsmanship was sharp, my flames deadly, but in the jungle, I realized I lacked defense, something to stand between us and the claws of death.

That’s when it happened. As I stood before the Sacred Flame, offering my sword and my spirit, a small ember within the flame flickered, then grew into a blaze. Nicneven spoke to me, her voice a whisper that echoed in my mind.

"Your strength burns bright, but you must now become the shield as well as the sword."

My veins glowed orange as her blessing poured through me, and I felt my body harden, not from flames alone but from something deeper, a protective force. It wasn’t just for me. It was a gift to shield me, to stand between me and the horrors I face. My body had become the shield, just as my blade was the flame.

I had my sword completely refitted in a small charming village. It is weird, seeing the familiar blade now with a different design, but it is necessary to cover my tracks. The armour too; I really cannot afford to be recognized, not with the mess I've gotten myself into. I called up Dimitri, the only one I trust with something like this, and asked him to help offload Alan's supernatural .50 Cal sniper. It's never easy to sell the weapon of a dead friend, but I need the money more than the memories. We met in a pub in Edinburgh, I handed him the weapon. Dimitri's contacts will handle the rest. The funds should buy me some time to stay ahead of the authorities. Afterwards, I had spent hours sifting through old archives, looking for anything that might point me in the direction of a witch. I need someone who can help cover my tracks, erase my trail, and keep me hidden from those that would come after me. I found a few leads, some old cases that might bring me closer to what I need. Now, it's just a question of finding the right one.