"Magi of Manhattan" – June 8, 2002

Jun 8, 2002 – Magi in ManhattanFolder• Feb 18 2020

It was in the summer of 2002 that Peter Fae’s understanding of the world—and the people within it—crystallized into a revelation. He and Calliope stood together in the Akashic Library, gazing through a shimmering portal that framed a memory of New York City from that faraway time. The city hummed with life, its streets teeming with energy, its buildings rising like monuments to the relentless pulse of existence. Peter’s golden cloak caught the ambient light of the Library’s endless shelves as he leaned forward, his brown hair tied back in a topknot. His eyes, deep with memory, held a glimmer of both wonder and weight.

“It was a time of awakening for me,” he said, his voice quiet but steady, as though the words themselves carried the resonance of the story he told. “That summer, I began to see the people I met not just as individuals, but as something more. It was as if the world itself had become a flush, elemental thing, and the people within it… they were aspects of larger truths, reflections of something eternal.”

Calliope, her dark cloak draped lightly over her small frame, tilted her head, her youthful curiosity sharp as ever. “You mean, like Gods?”

Peter turned toward her, his gaze softening. “Yes,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Exactly like that.”

The portal shimmered, revealing scenes from his time in New York. He saw himself walking the streets, the cacophony of the city wrapping around him like a storm. But even amidst the chaos, there was clarity, a deeper rhythm he had only just begun to perceive. The faces of those he had met appeared in the glowing frame—James Vogel, with his ability to shift between roles and personas like a true shapeshifter; Dan Walsh, whose mastery of rhythm and time echoed the primal forces of existence; and the others in the Faerytale Brigade, each one carrying a unique aspect of the divine, whether they knew it or not.

“They weren’t just people,” Peter continued, his voice steady, reverent. “They were embodiments of Story, avatars of creation. James Vogel, for instance, was like a living archetype, his presence constantly shifting between the mundane and the mystical. He could embody different facets of himself so completely it was as if he channeled the Gods themselves. And Dan Walsh…” Peter’s voice trailed off for a moment, a flicker of admiration crossing his features. “Dan was a master of rhythm. He taught me something profound, that music—and perhaps life itself—is about what and when. It was more than music to him; it was the architecture of time.”

Calliope watched the scene unfold, her wide eyes reflecting the light of the portal. “Did they know?” she asked. “That they were like this?”

Peter shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “Most of them didn’t. They were simply living their lives, creating art, sharing moments. But their presence opened windows for me—windows into the World beneath the world. They showed me how the divine moves through everything, even the mundane. In their laughter, their struggles, their creations, I saw reflections of the Gods.”

He turned back to the portal, watching as his younger self moved through the city, the threads of his destiny weaving quietly in the background. The memories were vivid—late nights wandering the labyrinthine streets, deep conversations with James about the nature of art and creation, and fleeting moments of inspiration where he could see the structure beneath it all.

“There’s an architecture to creation,” Peter murmured, more to himself than to Calliope. “A structure beneath the structure that allows everything to exist. Back then, I could feel it but didn’t have the words for it. The city was a storm, a sensory flood, but it was also alive. I could sense the voice of the Goddess, the intelligence of the land beneath the pavement. It was the call to adventure—a call I knew I couldn’t ignore.”

Calliope stepped closer, her gaze lingering on the swirling lights of the portal. “And that’s when you left?” she asked softly. “When you began the Quest?”

Peter nodded. “I had to. I promised myself I would find the magic, the clarity I was searching for, and bring it back. The city was a crucible, a place of chaos and creation. But I knew there was another World, one I could see when I was in the right shape, when my shifting brought me into alignment with the magical reality. That’s what I was seeking—a window into the Worlds.”

The portal began to dim, its light fading back into the endless expanse of the Library. Calliope turned to Peter, her dark eyes filled with wonder. “And did you find it? The other World?”

Peter smiled, his gaze distant but filled with certainty. “I found pieces of it,” he said. “Enough to know that the journey itself is part of the magic. The people I met, the experiences I had—they were all threads in the tapestry. And even now, as we stand here in the Akashic Library, I can feel it. The Story is still unfolding, and we are part of it.”

Calliope nodded slowly, her wonder tempered with a growing understanding. Together, they turned away from the portal, their steps echoing softly in the starlit halls of the Library, the weight of countless stories surrounding them like an unseen tide.

Secret Identities

Since I was independently wealthy and was gifted and cursed with powers outside the range of normal human perception and a thirst for justice, there really was only career option for me.

The world was a wash of horrible vibrations. It seemed like at every turn there were intentions to manipulate and influence me by people with poor intentions. Life was a jumble of chaos.

My time in New York City had a Faerytale quality to it, where Vogel and I found ourselves in all manner of situations that were, to me, the embodiment of a magical World. One where we were moving through an alternate reality, one of myth and manifest Art

There are patterns which can only be seen from the vantage of time. Aspects of our stories which are only revealed later in the tale. It was during this time I first encounter Dan Walsh, an ally who would remain in my sphere for many years.

In which I was spending a good amount of time moving through the streets of New Yorke, sharing ideas and inquiries with my ally Dan Walsh. While I didn’t know it then, Walsh would become a major ally on the Quest, helping me to understand that most primal of elements, Time.