Megan had been sitting at the base of the Hollywood sign for a long time, or at least long enough for Megan to get bored with herself. She stood up, and made the impulsive decision that this, the search for Strange’s killer, was too big for her. She needed help, and she knew just who to ask. After all, the reason she had even come to LA was to rummage through the house (who lives in a mosque anyway?) of an old wizard. Thinking that maybe the wizard’s old haunt would provide her with a clue as to where to start, Megan decided to go through with her initial plan for the day. As she flew down over the city, Megan thought about how to go about a murder investigation in the first place. She had seen almost every episode of CSI, CSI Miami and even CSI New York, and she knew that without a body, there could be no investigation. The search became one for Dr. Strange’s body first, in Megan’s mind. While gross and disgusting and very interesting, it had the added bonus of being something that was not actually avoiding being found, like the killer would probably be.
When Megan landed in front of the tiny old Mosque, Megan’s heart sank. The place looked more run-down then she had expected, and even in its heyday it was probably a very simple affair to start with. Basically the mosque was a small domed building, with a crescent moon at its zenith, and four minarets, or thin towers, at the cardinal points around it. Now, all but one of the minarets had collapsed, and the building was covered in graffiti. An iron fence had been put up around it. As Megan stood leaning against the fence with a disappointed look on her face, a man approached her. He wore a black business suit and tie, and had very dark eyes and long white hair.
“Milady, I fear there is nothing here for thee” the man aid, who did not look as old as he had seemed at first glance.
“Uh.. No… Look, I don’t have any change with me…” Megan said, treating the man as a beggar in spite of his expensive attire.
“Milady, I have not come here to beg. I have come here to tell thee that this is place is not of any interest any longer” the man said in a kind voice.
“And, you would know that because…?” Megan asked.
“I know of such things, milady. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Modred, called The Mystic,” the man said with a slight nod of his head.
“Oh… Right… Well, I’m Pixie, called… I’m an X-Man”
“Milady, thou art no man,” Modred said grinning slightly.
“Oh yeah… Well, most are, so that’s what it’s called… X-Men… You know?”
“I have heard of the X-Men, I spoke in jest. Tell me, milady, what bringeth thee to this place of forgotten importance?” Modred asked, smiling sincerely at Megan.
“What’s with the `thee’ and `thou’ and “bringeth’? Are you like speech-impaired… or was that very rude?” Megan asked.
“I assure thee, milady, I can switch to an accent more in keeping with the times we live in it that is thyne desire” Modred said.
“Oh no… Don’t bother… If that is your accent, then that’s your accent… I shouldn’t have made fun of it… I have an accent, too, you know? I’m Welsh!” Megan excused herself, feeling bad about her rudeness.
“Think nothing of it, Milady, but pray tell, what is thou seekest in this abandoned place?”
“I’m looking for…. Hey, wait! Why am I answering all your questions? You’re a weirdo who just showed up! You’re not a pervert, are you?” Megan asked, suspicious of Modred despite the fact that she was also really curious about the strange man.
“I assure thee, Milady, I am not. And even if I were, wouldst thou have cause to fear me?”
“I suppose not… I just… I don’t know you… And you have to admit it’s a little out there to just talk to a girl on the street for an old man like you! You’re like what? Thirty?”
“I am somewhat older, but I merely wish to speak to thee of magic, as I sense that thou art deliberating thyne wish to become a serious student of that greatest of arts, is it not so?” Modred asked.
“Thou senseth correctly, you do! I’m looking for serious magic… seriously!” Megan answered.
“Then this place holds no interest for thee. Allow me to take the to the place that holds the secrets and magics this place once held” Modred said.
“All right…” Megan said after a few seconds (an eternity) of thought, “But no funny stuff, or you’ll meet my little pointy friend!”
“I wouldst not dream of it, Milady. Come, the place is nearby” Modred beckoned Megan, and cautiously but also eagerly, Megan followed the strange man down the street.
Somewhere beyond the world of men, a woman clad in green walked slowly along the beach. The air was filled with vapor and swirling mists, consisting of all colors and odors known to the world. The woman brushed back her long auburn hair, and stood still all of a sudden. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, as if it would enable her to smell everything at once.
“The air is thick with anticipation, Oshtur, on your holiest of days” the woman said, but no response came. Instead the air grew more transparent and the vapors and swirling mists seemed to dissipate before the woman’s waving arms.
“That’s better…” the woman said, as the air became clear, and the woman opened her eyes once more. With another wave of her hands, the woman conjured up a willow-tree, rising from the water and the earth alike. As it grew, and its leaf-covered branches hung into the water, the woman stood underneath the curves made by the overhanging branches. With another wave of her hands, she caused the branches to stir the water, until a small whirlpool appeared, and from it came a most unearthly voice.
“Morgan Le Fey! Why have you summoned the willow oracle?” the voice asked.
“Because it is the Sacred day of Oshtur of the Air, but the air reeks of fires” Morgan answered.
“A convergence of elements, sorceress. Is not this very oracle a blending of the Earth and the Water?” the voice answered.
“I must know what my purpose is on this day. So time ago I assisted in the bringing together of the Four Cornerstones. I was compelled to make a prediction, but I fail to see why this prediction should be the truth.” Morgan said.
“You, an immortal sorceress fears what the future holds? As you have already seen the future, this oracle cannot enlighten you. You will visit the mortal Ian McNee, you will make love to him, and you will tell him of The Dark Man.” The voice answered.
“Why? I have no reason to visit a favored of Oshtur this day, and I do not have any knowledge to share of a Dark Man I do not know” Morgan shouted at the whirlpool.
“Yet you will. An event of great importance is about to occur, and your mortal is bound up in it. You have but to look to see what is happening right now”
And inside the whirlpool, a vision appeared of Modred The Mystic and a pink haired girl with butterfly wings standing in front of Ian McNee’s shop.
“Modred! But he can no longer access any magic. He is forever banned from any mystical access to powers! And the girl! What possible significance could this fairy-child have? Who is this girl?” Morgan demanded of the Oracle.
“Do you not see, Morgan?” the Oracle responded, “She is but a very foolish girl”