Samael had instructed Ignatius to meet him every Tuesday exactly at sunset for a catechism preparing him for his calling. When Ignatius met Samael for the first lesson at Hillside Cemetery, the shadows had just begun to rise. The lawns looked dark forest green, the sky a steely blue directly above but exploding into magenta and gold in the west. Stacks of thin, slaty clouds were caught in the explosion of light and dark. The hillside they sat on faced the west, the ancient droopy willow overlooking his mother’s grave behind them. In the distance, beyond the gates of the cemetery, Ignatius could see the tiny, sleepy houses of “Nordeast” huddled in shadow, but with sunset gold still glinting on their roofs. The air was cool enough to raise goose bumps on Ignatius’ skin. But it would get no cooler nor darker for as long as they met, caught as they were in the crack between day and night. Nearby he could see half-formed dew glistening on the grass around him, an orb weaver suspended in the final touches to its elaborate creation in the underside of a nearby bush. This place nestled in this time made a spectacular classroom, he thought.

“In the beginning, God was. How long God existed before creating our universe, no one, not even the angels, can tell. But God created many other universes before ours and will create many others after.” Samael produced a dark, rough crystal about the size and shape of two fists held together. Ignatius reached out toward it, but Samael warned him, “Don’t touch!”

“What is it?” asked Ignatius.

“In the angelic tongue we call it ‘lu.’ In the biblical tongue it is called ‘urim’ or ‘light.’ Everything in the universe has its own song or emanation, which contains everything there is to know about it: everything it is and has been – its history – and everything it will be – its destiny. There are certain stones capable of reflecting these emanations. If you know how to keep them and how to hold them, they can show you anything in the universe.”

Samael held the lu stone cradled in his hands, and Ignatius watched as it slowly became more and more translucent. Then suddenly he saw lights and images inside. It was like looking through some kind of a lens at things that were happening on the other side, though where the other side was he could not tell.

“What are you showing me?” Ignatius asked.

“The history of your world,” Samael replied.

Ignatius saw a city made of gleaming, white stone, with row upon row of small, square houses built tightly together around narrow, winding streets. He saw towers rising above the houses, and miles away, in the center of the city, an enormous, pyramid-shaped building. The city looked vast, much larger than Minneapolis, the largest city he had ever seen. He saw dark-skinned people wearing long tunics and scarves congregating in marketplaces where they bought and sold food, clothes, and crafts, and animals that looked like camels. He saw a beach where naked children, women and men splashed in the waves on white, sandy shores, and far away, beyond the distant edges of the city he saw jungles, and even further away purple, white-capped mountains.

“Where is that?”

“It is one of many cities built in the dawn of your time, on your earth as God intended it when He first created it,” Samael said, “when your race was young and innocent.”

The image in the lu stone shimmered and went dark, only to be replaced with another, much more chaotic image. Ignatius saw red, lightning-filled skies and a blinding explosion. He saw a black river, clouds of smoke and burning houses. He saw men wearing blood-soaked armor and wielding strange weapons. He saw filthy, naked bodies stacked in enormous piles around the edges of a muddy field. He saw other, more confusing images of what looked like crying children and men fighting women, that filled Ignatius with strange horror. And he saw rows of people in chains, slaves digging in dark caves.

“There is One I cannot show you in the lu stone, though you are watching his handiwork in it even now. It would be very dangerous for me to show him to you. And if I dared to do it, in any event no purpose would be served, as he has taken many forms and is known by many names. The mayhem and war he began in Heaven has spread to every corner of the universe and has dragged a third of the angels to ruin. In this world and elsewhere, he uses lust and deceit to win followers, whom he promises power without end.”

“Satan!” exclaimed Ignatius.

Samael replied, “That is one of his names.”

The image in the stone shimmered and went dark again, to be replaced by another. At first it was hard to tell what he saw next in the crystal, but Ignatius thought he saw flames in the darkness, and then realized that he saw people moving around a fire. They were dancing. They looked strange, almost like animals, and then he realized many of them were wearing animal skins. He was not sure he had seen it right at first, but he strained his eyes, peering as closely as Samael would allow, and realized he had indeed seen that some of them were completely naked. Ignatius felt shock at the sight of it, and then a strange knot turning deep inside him. He thought he should turn his eyes away, but at the same time he was fascinated, and Samael seemed to want him to see this. They were feasting on something with great relish. What it was, Ignatius could not see, though there was blood dripping from the mouths of those who were eating.

Samael said, “They call themselves ‘holy ones.’ They have been deluded by the Evil One to believe that he will some day win his war against God, and that they will then be rewarded for their loyalty to him. When the first children of Man made a secret pact with the Evil One, that was the beginning of all human anguish, sadness, terror, slavery, war, and every great evil that humans have struggled against ever since.”

“You mean Cain!” exclaimed Ignatius.

Samael nodded, “He was one of the very first to accept the mark. In perfect mockery of the good religion God gave his children, the Evil One gave him this religion, substituting secret blood oaths for baptism, filthy Sabbaths and orgies for true worship, and human sacrifice for communion. And since then, all who have lusted after power without consequences have entered this same pact.”

“You mean witches?” Ignatius gasped.

“Yes, witches,” said Samael. “As a sign of his power, the Evil One gave them something else, as well, to convince them that they had no need of the one true resurrection.”

He shifted the lu stone, and the image changed again. Now Ignatius saw colored lights, like the ones he had seen that night in the cemetery by the grave of Eddie Van Sant. These lights were dancing above a great shimmering sea of silver. Most of them were met by great winged beings of white energy, and in turn shivered and turned white and slowly began drifting upwards, following the winged beings. But a few twisted alone in the darkness and slowly sank back down into the shining, lower and lower until they disappeared beneath.

“Every second, someone in the world dies, and their souls pass through the veil from life into death. Each soul is met by an angel and offered the opportunity to continue in the path of perfection. But some choose to turn back and repossess their own dead bodies, believing they can cheat God and claim eternal life without him.”

Ignatius saw the image in the lu stone flicker and shift again. He saw an old man dressed in a black robe, wearing a brass pendant around his neck. The man seemed strangely familiar, as though Ignatius had seen him or met him before, but somehow forgotten who he was.

Samael continued, “Every human being has ordinary moral choices to make. Whether to lie or tell the truth, whether to be greedy or selfless, faithful or faithless. For most the battle between good and evil is a battle of the human heart that is won or lost in very ordinary choices. But some are charged with the extraordinary task of fighting evil that has taken form in the flesh. This requires special tools, special knowledge and a special Calling. This is why the Order of the Dragon was founded.”

Ignatius noticed the brass pendant hanging around the neck of the man in the lu stone again. It bore an engraved image of a dragon biting its own tail.

“The Order is named for the One we have taken as our sworn enemy, one of whose many names is ‘the Dragon.’ We take the symbol of the Dragon in order always to remind ourselves who it is we fight. The Order is ancient. It is older than recorded history, as old as the evil it was founded to combat. Its members have included kings and counselors, great thinkers, teachers and priests; but also many very ordinary people who have lived, at least on the surface, seemingly ordinary lives.”

“Why have I never heard of it until now?” Ignatius asked.

“The Order must, by its nature, be secret, in order to combat secret evils. At times over the millennia it has come out in the open, when the witches have been bold enough to practice their abominations openly. The last time it came out in the open was some five hundred years ago. There may even be a few who claim the name today tracing a kind of lineage to those ancient times, Societatis draconistrarum. But they have long since forgotten the true meaning of the name, and certainly have no Calling as you do. But, when all is said and done, it is better for the Order to remain secret, out of the eyes of the unworthy who might try to corrupt it if they knew it existed. You must beware of temptation, Ignatius!” Samael said suddenly.

“What temptation?” asked Ignatius, his heart fluttering under the angel’s piercing stare.

“You are accountable to God alone. Never let any human make you believe you are subject to any priesthood, any hierarchy, or any government than God’s alone. Never allow the Order to be corrupted by false allegiances.”

“I won’t!” replied Ignatius. “So… will I be fighting witches?”

Samael smiled. “Not yet, young squire. There is still much for you to learn before you do. In any event, your society has made it difficult for true witches to thrive. In these times and in this place, the danger is less from living witches than from those who have come back from the dead.”

“Are there other members of the Order living here, in Minneapolis?”

“There is one,” replied Samael. “You are called to replace him, eventually.”

“Will I meet him?” Ignatius asked.

“You will, when the time is right.”

Ignatius stared at the image of the man in the lu stone. He saw candles, and in the background a stained glass window, an image of John the Baptist. It was a church. Samael passed his hand over the crystal and the image flickered out and the stone went dark again. Samael put the stone away and kissed Ignatius on the forehead.

“To begin the practical part of your training,” said Samael, “you must present yourself to a man of God by the name of Simon Alva Ames.”

“Present myself?”

“When you meet him, all you need to tell him is that you were sent by an angel,” said Samael, “Do not tell him more than that. And do everything he asks you to. He will ask you to assist him in his ministry.”

“How will I find him?” asked Ignatius.

“You do not need to know how you will find him,” replied Samael, “Simply keep your eyes and your mind open, and you will.”

And with those words, Samael kissed Ignatius on the forehead again and disappeared, leaving Ignatius behind to watch the rest of the sunset by himself.