About Pecht

Pecht had found over the years that he sometimes lost track of time. He knew that this happened to a lot of individuals. He didn’t think that this happened to a lot of people like himself; because technically, he wasn’t “people”.

Now Pecht did not forget anything; ever. It might sometimes take him a moment to speak or act: because he was recalling so much and contemplating so many possibilities, but to outward appearances he could seem somewhat scatterbrained.

Pecht was a Pixie. These days, it was exceedingly rare to encounter any sort of being/creature from the non-human world.

There were a variety of reasons behind this fact. One of the big reasons was that the human world no longer generally believed in the non-human world. Strange as it may seem; belief is a powerful thing, and the lack thereof almost guarantees that what is not believed, will eventually cease to be.

It’s one of those cyclic things, that like begets like; or lack thereof. In this modern -too much so for his taste- world: it was like not being able to get a job without experience; but not being able to gain experience without having a job.

From his own experience in the last several hundred years; the more he showed himself, the less people believed. It was a baffling phenomenon to him; especially because many people subscribed to the seeing is believing philosophy.

A perfect; recent example of this phenomenon was what went on outside that little village near Bradford. Those two young girls had managed to photograph several fairies in near half a dozen images. In a strange coincidence; one of the fairies in the photographs, happened to be a distant cousin of his own beloved Tenkha.

Of course, when he first heard about the fairies in the photographs with the young girls he had thought: “that’s just like a Fairy.” He; like much of the non-human world, thought that fairies were a bit too full of themselves. “They got a stick up their bum” is what Gerald would likely say if he knew anything about fairies.

The point being; that the photographs captured the fairies images quite clearly for literally anyone to see, and yet there were many who refused to believe, and claimed that there was some sort of hoax being perpetrated.

Now he himself was a big fan of a good hoax or prank. His favorite had been when he had convinced those early Brythonions that he was blue because it helped keep him safe and whole in battle. Truth be told; Pecht had been using the Woad plant to get drunk. The drink he made from the plant, was done so in a similar fashion that a fine cup of tea is made. But for Pixies; the blue liquid derived from the process was highly intoxicating. So Pecht was essentially drunk as a skunk when a group of young human warriors encountered him; literally blue in the face. Back in those days; he was a sloppy drunk. He had convinced them to make more of the blue drink: it was a drink for him; but the humans had ended up using it to dye their clothes and paint themselves. He still got an occasional laugh when he thought about it.

The thirty year old single malt whiskey that Penrose was serving him was much more refined and slightly less strong that the blue Woad drink that Pecht used to drink back in the old days. For the most part; Pecht found that you could generally say the same about most things when comparing this modern day and those earlier times.

Back then people had been more able to believe; maybe they were less cynical, maybe it was because there was more magic in the world. Pecht couldn’t say for certain; he was after all, a simple Pixie.

Now that was not necessarily true. He was anything but simple. While it’s true that he was fairly “common” as Pixies go: for humans it would be like saying he was a chimney sweep compared to Prince Albert. It was also true that he was the oldest Pixie in this country and generally; in both the human and non-human world, with age comes wisdom, and often power.

Pecht himself was an Earth spirit if you will; as opposed to his lovely Tenkha, who was more of a Water spirit, specifically the Sea. As a spirit of Earth; he was capable of a great many things that humans were not. And given his age and the power attendant with such tenure on this plane; he had a few tricks up his sleeve that other spirits of Earth did not.

Take this thing with Gerald that he had undertaken this evening: this was not something that many of his kind could do. In truth he was only able to do it because there was a touch of Fae in Gerald’s ancestry.

Pecht could recognize things like this in people; and it drew him to certain places and people. This city had a higher than usual concentration of humans with a bit of Fae ancestry. Gerald, Fitz, Teague, and their leader Penrose all had varying degrees of it from way back in their ancestors.

Gerald had an earth spirit way back in his lineage and this was partly why he was so stalwart and loyal. Fitz was linked to an Ogre like spirit which partially explained his size and near unnatural strength. Teague was a far distant relation to the Hound of Culhain, and through him, Dadga, and even Lugh. This; along with his experiences in life, made the enterprise troubleshooter near unbeatable.

Penrose was being an agreeable host; and his whiskey was top notch. Pecht was enjoying perhaps his third glass and had to laugh when the enterprise leader asked if Pecht was his given, or surname: Pecht had simply responded “Yes.” The Pixie could tell by the look on Penrose’s face, that he was not used to being “played” with. But Pecht did so love a good joke.

In truth; the enterprise leader made Pecht a little nervous. There was a darkness in him from very far back in his lineage. Of course the Pixie did not let this show. He had told Penrose that no one or thing in the city could remove him from his establishment against his will; and that was true. Pecht could sense other non-humans for a fair distance and he knew that for a fact.

He had left his place at the “Cornish” because Tenkha had been compelled away; and then he had cooperated with the owner of Ottimo Cibo in an effort to retrieve her.

Pecht had been at the Italian Eatery when he saw what went on between Teague, Gerald, and that villain Vittorio. That one disturbed him. Penrose and his men had a bit of fae in them; and it made them who they were. But Vittorio: he was all human; and he was -off-. Some would go so far as to say the Italian was evil. Be that as it may; Pecht had been leading Teague on a bit of a merry chase, honestly just for the heck of it. The Pixie had easily evaded the lumbering scion of Sentata; and he had seen the big man carrying Gerald out of the Eatery after the deadly encounter. He felt bad; and partly responsible, and he also felt the fae part of Gerald. Pecht knew he could do something about it; so he followed the motor coach to the fine hotel that housed the offices of the Penrose enterprise.

After Teague had gone upstairs to speak with his employer; Pecht had used some of his self, loaned it, if you will, to the big bruiser, and that coupled with his fae heritage had allowed Gerald to stay.

Pecht was a bit tickled by the big man Fitz’s response when they met. The man with hair the color of pitch and a calm face, was more than twice the height of Pecht and yet he smiled like a schoolboy as he knelt and took the Pixie’s hand in his own.

Pecht smiled a bit as Fitz blurted out “What the Hell!” Such language these enterprise men used.

Though he supposed it could be expected; or at least excused since the big man was seeing someone who he was certain had been killed. It was almost funny to the Pixie that the big man was right.

Pecht looked at the four men and said “let’s all of us have a seat and I’ll answer a few questions before we go and fetch my love.”

The men, and Pecht found places to sit near the settee and Gerald started talking. “Mr. Pecht Sir,” and the Pixie interrupted the bruiser with; “Pecht will do lad.” So Gerald continued; “yes Sir, Mr. Pecht.” The bruiser stood and thrust out his hands to show the lack of wounds and asked “how can this be?” The other three men nodded and Fitz said; “it don’t seem natural.”

“Strictly speaking big fella; it’s not natural;” Pecht said and continued, “although you could argue that since I am a spirit of Earth and Nature, that it really is natural.” Fitz looked confused at that; as did two of the other men, but Gerald spoke up, “I think Mr. Pecht is right.” The bruiser continued; “and anyhow, I know I’m only here on account of his help.”

Penrose moved over and offered the Pixie yet another glass of whiskey. “how did you accomplish that Pecht?”

The Pixie sniffed the whiskey and then drank half in one smooth gulp. “Honestly gentlemen, you would not be able to understand it if I told you how it was done.” He continued;”i think the easiest way for you to think of it, is that I loaned your man Gerald here a bit of my self.” Teague turned his head slightly; as if in thought and asked” do you mean you gave him a part of your soul?”

Pecht smiled slightly and said;”i say self, because I think your church folk would argue that I am not a “man”, so I have no soul.” Gerald nodded his head slowly; as if he understood.

“Old boy,” the Pixie said to Penrose, “I did say we would talk about it; and what I did does put Gerald in my debt.” The enterprise leader looked confused for a moment, then spoke. “I know the Orientals believe that if you save a life, then you are responsible for that life thereafter: is it something like that?”

“Something like that old boy;” the Pixie agreed with Penrose. “In any case, he can’t really be working for you any longer.” A dark look flashed across the enterprise leader’s face; but Gerald spoke up. “Mr. Penrose Sir: I worked for you most of my life; but it kind of ended tonight.” the bruiser sat and continued;” so it seems to me that I need to honor my debt to Mr. Pecht.” The three other men looked alternately confused, deep in thought, and even respectful.

Teague spoke up. “Begging your pardon Mr. Penrose, but Gerald does seem to make sense.”

Penrose nodded slowly in agreement. The big man Fitz spoke: “Gerald is not known much for that:” he looked at Gerald and said, “no offense Gerald.” The big man continued; “but I have to agree as well Mr. Penrose.”

“We have to go back to Ottimo Cibo;” Pecht said, he was going to continue and Gerald cut him off with “That means Great Food!” Fitz got a surprised look on his face and said “I didn’t know you spoke Italian, Gerald.” Teague spoke up; “he’s reading French now as well.” Fitz and Penrose both looked confused: Pecht looked like he knew what was going on. “I don’t;” Gerald disagreed.

Pecht spoke up:”actually lad, you do.” All the men looked confused at that; and the Pixie continued;”it has to do with sharing a part of my self;” Pecht stood and went over to the nearly empty decanter and poured the last of the whiskey for himself. He sniffed the last of the fine whiskey and said; “there were some things off in your noggin lad; and I fixed them while I was busy doing my thing.”

“Why do we need to return to Ottimo Cibo?” Penrose asked the Pixie. Pecht tossed back the last of his drink and said;”we need to get an artifact”

Pecht looked at the four men expectantly as he said this and sure enough, two of them, the Pixie wasn’t sure which two, said “What the Hell!”