Destinies Intertwined-A Sword of Destiny Prelude
****
Legal Disclaimer:
This story is meant to provide background information on how Scott met up with his
Watcher in the Swords of Destiny series. Characters and events in this story are fictitious,
and any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental. With the exception
of the city of Wisconsin Dells and Kilbourn Public Library, places in this story are also
fictitious. Copyrighted characters and events are the intellectual property of the respective
authors and/or companies. This story is meant for entertainment. To borrow a few words
from the authors of Swords of Destiny, suing me is a waste of time since I don't have any
money.
A brief note:
I have a passing familiarity with the Highlander series, and from what I've seen I like. It
is an interesting concept, and one of the things I think is intriguing is the concept of the
Watchers. It should be noted that I am, by no stretch of the imagination, an expert on the
Highlander series. So if I break cannon material, chalk it up as an unintentional mistake.
***
Part 1:
"A Strange Visit"
***
Al watched as the sun set slowly behind the slowly changing leaves of early autumn. The
light danced upon the waters of the Wisconsin River like a candle flame flickering in the
wind. Leaves swayed slowly in the gentle breeze while a group of geese flew overhead in
their familiar V formation. This was one of the things he liked about his job as a security
guard at Regal Rest Camping Resort-the occasional peaceful moments like this where he
could enjoy the serenity of nature. After six years in the Army Special Forces, sneaking
around in jungles, swamps, and deserts this was paradise.
He liked this time of year. With summer and Labor Day past, the camp became very
peaceful. Most of the sites were empty, and usually the only ones there were true outdoor
people who came to the forest to hike or fish; not sit around a campfire getting drunk and
being obnoxious. Damn those people made his job hard! The weather was a tad warmer
than normal for mid September, so attendance was a little higher than normal.
As he gazed out his office window admiring the postcard perfect autumn splendor, a
young woman probably in her early twenties, came in and timidly knocked on the door.
"Sir?"
"Yes ma'm," replied Al, "how may I help you?"
"I'm not sure if this is anything to worry about, but not two long ago I saw a man walking
by my campsite. It looked like he was carrying a sword. It didn't appear that he was
looking for trouble, but I saw he had a weapon and that worried me."
"Then you were right to come here ma'm. Which site are you in? Can you describe him?"
"Number 62. He was heading north along the River Trail. He was about 6'3 or so, looked
to be in his mid fifties and had short black hair, though it looked like he was graying in
some areas, medium build, and no facial hair. He was wearing blue jeans and a green
jacket."
"Thank you ma'm I'll look into it. Do you feel you need an escort back to your site? I
noticed there aren't many people in that part of the camp."
"I drove over. I think I'll be alright."
After the woman left, Al headed to his truck, or the ranger-mobile as he and his co-
workers called it. He carefully studied the park map to decide which route to take to the
River Trail. Once he had his plan down, he radioed his employer."
"Hello Roger, Al here. I had a camper report some suspicious activity. I'm off to
investigate. Could you watch the office?"
"Sure," replied Roger, "but shouldn't you call the police?"
"I appreciate the concern boss. Don't worry I won't do anything stupid. After all, death
means paperwork, right?"
"Yeah. Just be careful and radio for back up if you need it!"
With that, Al set off. The sun would be set below the trees soon, but the full moon would
prove to be a helpful light source. River Trail was sparsely traveled this time of year.
Partly due to the drop in attendance, but also because since it was right against the river
(hence the clever name) incoming waves often sprayed cold water upon hikers brave
enough to travel that road. As darkness slowly crept across the trail, he heard an unusual
sound clashing and scraping of metal. He quickened his pace until he had reached a small
clearing just off the trail. He didn't believe what he saw. He could make out two men
sword fighting in the moonlight! Judging by the speed and ferocity of their attacks, he
could tell they were not playing. Al reached for his radio to call back up when a jolt of
energy hit him. The last thing he remembered seeing were flashes of light as the headless
corpse of one of the swordfighters went to the ground.
***
Sunlight steamed brightly into the room as Al slowly returned to consciousness. Had it
been a dream? Was he waking up in his apartment? No, he could see he was in a hospital.
As he slowly came to, a nurse rushed to his side.
"Are you OK sir? How do you feel?"
"Strange...like I was hit by a truck..."
"You're lucky to be alive. According to the doctor, you must have taken a nasty hit. I'd
ask you what happened, but I'm sure the police will want to know first."
"What are you talking about? How long was I out?"
"You were unconscious for about two days. I don't know all the details, but a detective
told me to notify you when you came to. Don't worry, as far as I know you are not a
suspect."
Suspect? Wonderful, though Al. He was still feeling a bit woozy from the shock, so
running was out of the question. But then again, if he were suspected of murder or any
crime, they probably would have him in a jail or handcuffed to the bed. Ten minutes
later, a middle-aged man dressed in a suit entered the room. On his coat was a badge
identifying him as a member of the Wisconsin Dells police department.
"Good afternoon Mr. Seeger. I am Detective Daniels. I have been assigned to this case.
Would you mind telling me what happened?"
"Well sir, it was early evening on September 16th. I was in my office admiring the sunset
and catching up on some paperwork when a young woman came in, from site 62. She
saw a man on the riverside hiking trail carrying what she described as a sword. The man
didn't appear to be looking for trouble, but she thought it was odd. I radioed my boss,
Roger Regal and set off to investigate. I followed the woman’s directions, and a few
miles from the campground, I saw two men sword fighting in a clearing. One of them cut
off the other's head, there were flashes of light and that's all I remember."
"Are you sure that is what you saw? Can you describe either of the two fighters?"
"No. I have a second hand description of one of them. But the conditions were not good
for an exact identification, even with the light of a full moon."
"Thank you sir. Before I go, I would like to get your address and phone number. I would
like to talk to you again about this matter."
The man then left the room. When no one was looking, he removed his badge and put it
in his pocket. Down the hall, he encountered a police officer.
"Hello Officer. I am Agent Nick Green from the FBI," said the man as he showed an FBI
identification badge.
"Hello Mr. Green. Sergeant Frank Drover, Wisconsin Dells PD at your service."
"I just interviewed Mr. Seeger, the park ranger who was brought in a couple of days ago."
"He has woken up I understand? How is he doing?"
"A little groggy, but he'll pull though. A tough lad from what I've gathered. I also
interviewed him about the events of a couple of nights ago. It seems a camper informed
him that there were some drunken teenagers goofing off on the bluffs by the river. He
was trying to catch up to them, just to get them to settle down and go back to their camp.
One of them turned violent, and as Mr. Seeger was trying to calm him down it seems the
other one got him from behind with a cattle prod. In any case, he wasn't able to give a
very good description due to the lighting conditions. Even with the full moon the trees
just blocked too much of the light. I will fax a copy of my notes to your office. Do you
know if anything was found at the scene of the crime?"
"There were signs of a fight, but nothing beyond that. So is there any reason why the FBI
is taking an interest in this case?"
"There is a fugitive from California that might be in the area. He has been known to use a
cattle prod to soften up his victims before robbing them...or worse. I'm familiar with this
area, so they assigned me to look into the case."
"Right," answered the police officer, "well, since you've already interviewed our witness
and he seems to be in good health, I can leave this case in your hands. At least we're only
investigating an assault instead of a homicide. Good day sir."
"And the same to you, officer."
***
That evening, Al was determined fit to leave the hospital. His boss offered to pick him
up. As he was on his way out, he saw Detective Daniels waiting for him.
"Good afternoon Mr. Seeger. I trust you are feeling well?"
"Much better thank you. I was informed my boss offered to pick me up."
"Yes. I arranged that. I wanted to inform you there may be more to this case than you
realize. I would like to talk to you later about it. In the mean time, please don't go
spreading details of what happened to you over the weekend."
"OK, I can respect that," replied Al, "but what should I tell my co-workers? I'm sure
they'll ask. And my boss will want to know...for paperwork purposes."
"You can tell them the details are a little fuzzy, as I am sure they are. From what I
gathered, things happened very quickly. According to the doctor's reports you were hit
from behind."
"I was? I don't remember seeing anyone else there. I don't recall being hit..."
"You know what they say son, you never hear the one that gets you."
"I guess," responded Al, "but if you'll excuse me Detective, I see my boss coming. I
believe you have my number? Call me later and we'll talk. Right now I just want to get
some rest."
"Understandable. Good day, Mr. Seeger."
The Detective walked off as Roger Regal pulled up. Al's boss was a short, balding man
with an open and honest face. He generally came off as the kind of person you couldn't
hate even if you tried. He was a kind man, and very outgoing-both essential traits in the
hospitality industry. After serving in the Marines for 15 years, he decided to settle down
in the quieter life of a campground manager. Perhaps that is one of the reasons Al got
along so well with his boss. Both had combat experience, and both appreciated a nice
quiet evening. He opened Regal Rest Camping Resort almost 20 years ago, and it quickly
became one of the area's most popular campgrounds for its excellent location, numerous
amenities, and exceptionally courteous staff.
"You gave us a scare," said Roger, "when you were gone for three hours with not
notification I got worried and called the police. We found you lying there, and from what
we could tell there was a fight."
"The details are still a bit fuzzy," replied Al. "It happened very quickly. I don't remember
much right now."
"That's OK, I'm just glad you are alive. I'm not even going to deduct the missing radio
from your paycheck!" said Roger with a smile.
"My radio?"
"Yeah. I looked for it the next day, but I couldn't find it. Don't worry-it wasn't exactly the
highest quality one. I can always buy another walkie-talkie, but I can't buy another park
ranger. Anyways, we’ve got enough staffing for the rest of the week, so feel free to take a
few days off. Oh, I also arranged for your car to be dropped off at your place, so don't
worry about that."
Fifteen minutes later, Roger let dropped Al off at his humble apartment located just past
the town's famous Strip. During the tourist season, the Strip was a beehive of activity. All
sorts of folk wandered its sidewalks, partaking in various eateries and souvenir shops, as
well as the town's many tourist traps. Although Al had only lived there for three years,
the Strip had been through several changes. Places go under, new ones take their place,
and others simply change their name or theme. As one long time local friend of his put it,
the Dells was in a constant state of re-inventing itself to keep tourists coming back year
after year. However, once the summer was over, shops slowly started to close their doors
for the season and the activity died down. At least until next year.
"Thanks Roger," said Al as he got out of the truck, "I'll take you up on that few days off.
Don't worry-I'll probably be back to work in a day or two."
"No problem. Like I said, we have the rest of the week covered and this coming weekend
isn't too busy. We'll get by without you. Don't take that the wrong way, though."
"Of course," smiled Al.
As Roger drove off into the city, Al made his way up to the second floor of the apartment
complex. He was still feeling a little dizzy, and his legs were a bit wobbly from spending
almost three days lying down, but he made it up to his bed and hit the sheets like a falling
tree. He pondered the events of the day and the mysterious sword fight. What were those
flashes of light? Why was he knocked unconscious? What happened to his radio? These
thoughts swam through his mind as sleep finally claimed him
***
The next day Al awoke to the ringing of his phone. Glancing over to the clock, he noticed
it was almost noon. As he struggled to get to the phone, he did the math and realized he
had been asleep for nearly 16 hours!
"Hello?"
"Mr. Seeger?"
"Yes?"
"This is Detective Daniels. We spoke yesterday."
"Yeah, I remember. What's up?"
"I would like to talk with you regarding the events you witnessed. I've arranged a private
meeting room at the Kilbourn Library. Would 3:30-ish today work for you?"
"That would be fine. I think I've almost recovered. See you there."
That afternoon passed uneventfully. Al showered, shaved, and had a quick bite to eat
before heading out. He contemplated taking his car, but decided to walk instead. After
spending the bulk of the last three days lying down, it felt good to be mobile. It was late
afternoon on a weekday, so there was very little traffic and he made it to the library with
ten minutes to spare. The receptionist informed him that Detective Daniels was already
waiting for him. To Al's surprise, there was a second man in the room. He looked about
the same age as the detective.
"Good to see you again Al. I'm glad to see you are alright."
Detective Daniels promptly closed the door and sat down across from Al. As the
detective settled into place, Al noticed a strange tattoo on each of the men's left wrists. It
resembled a letter Y inside of a circle.
"I'm going to get right to the chase. There is a reason I called you here and why I wanted
to meet in private. First, do you remember what you saw that night?"
"Yes," answered Al, "two men were sword fighting. I pulled out my radio to call for back
up when one of the men cut off the other's head. There was lightning, and then I woke up
in the hospital."
"Think carefully," said the other man, "where was the lightning coming from?"
"You're probably not going to believe this, but it seemed to be coming from the fallen
man's body. I'm still confused about that. As I said, I passed out. I still don't know what
happened to my radio."
"I can answer that," replied Detective Daniels, "I have it right here."
The detective reached into his briefcase and pulled out what was indeed once a radio. It
looked like it had been though a war, or at least taken a huge power surge.
"I see the look on your face, and let me explain," said the strange man, "My name is Peter
Russell. My associate here is Dan O'Malley. We are members of a secret society called
the Watchers. I am the senior recruitment chairman for the Midwest American branch of
our organization. You witnessed something very few people get to see. The fight you saw
was between to men known as immortals. Their origins are not known, we know they do
not die and they walk among us. Our organization, as the name implies watches and
records their actions, but never interferes."
"Whoa! Slow down!" interrupted Al, "Secret society? Immortal swordsmen? What do I
have to do with this?"
"I was getting to that my friend," said Peter, "As I said, we are group dedicated to
recording their actions. Since you witnessed an immortal duel, I would like to ask if you
would be interested in joining our organization. While you were out cold, we looked into
your background. You spent several years in the Special Forces and are trained in various
survival and espionage skills. You also have some degree of hand-to-hand combat
training and are quite accomplished with firearms. I also found out you performed
exceptionally well during your military career and were awarded several medals of
Honor. You were honorably discharged after being severely wounded while on a mission
in South America."
Peter noted the look on Al's face.
"In case you are wondering, we are a global organization and have contacts in thousands
of schools, universities, organizations, and government agencies. Finding information is
rarely a problem for us. As I was saying, you have some impressive skills, and I feel the
Watchers could use someone like you. It will essentially be your job, and you will get
paid plus have the ability to see the world. Of course, there are a few simple rules we will
ask you to follow. I will get into those once you have accepted our offer."
Al thought about it. He was an elite soldier by training, and didn't have too many skills
that could translate well into the civilian world. While he liked his job as a camp security
guard, he knew the pay wouldn't keep up with the cost of living as more wealthy folk
moved into the Dells area. He had few friends here, and no wife or family. He had broken
up with his girlfriend a month ago, so he had no ties to keep him here. Plus he would
have loved to see more of the world during his military training.
"Mr. Russell, you have yourself a deal. However, I do have one question. What happened
to my radio?"
"Once an immortal beheads another immortal, the defeated's life energy leaves the body.
That was the lightning you saw. The victor gains the loser's power. A side effect is any
nearby electrical equipment gets a power surge. You took quite a jolt since you were
holding the radio. A weaker man probably would have not survived."
"Hmmm. Interesting. I suppose I have a lot to learn," replied Al, "when do I start?"
"As soon as you are ready my friend," answered Peter.
(
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