A scream could be heard coming from the house of the Patch chieftain as Goldva awoke from a nightmare. The recently named Patch Chieftain was struggling to adjust to her new guardian ghost, the Patch Tribe's Big Chief. The spirit of a former chieftain, Big Chief was passed from chieftain to chieftain and harbored a collective knowledge of the Patch's history. This knowledge presented itself in the form of prophetic dreams. Whenever she went to sleep, Goldva would receive a vision in the form of a dream. Tonight however, something was different.

As Goldva struggled out of bed, her thoughts drifted back to the dream she'd just had. The Big Chief had shown her a vision of Hao Asakura, the shaman who 400 years had reincarnated into the Patch Tribe and made off with the Spirit of Fire. It had been a humiliation for the Patch Tribe and many chiefs had sought to protect the four remaining high spirits at any cost. In the dream, she saw Hao sitting with the Spirit of Fire, only for Hao to split into two! The second Hao proceeded to become covered in shadow and morph into a new form, covered in darkness, but without the Spirit of Fire. The young chief's eyes widened as she began to put the pieces together.

"A second Hao..." Her voice came out as barely a whisper before the realization of what she said sunk in. If another shaman were to acquire the power of Hao Asakura, the results could be disastrous. Taking a moment to compose herself, Goldva strode over to her window and summoned the Big Chief into her pipe. For the last 400 years, the Patch had been preparing for a moment like this: The Darkstars. A special task force composed of shamans from around the globe. Shamans who could have competed for the title of King had they been born at the right time. Channeling her pipe into the Patch Arrow, Goldva shot it skywards.

The arrow soared into this air, leaving behind a trail of brilliant green light. Shamans who were part of the Darkstars task force would see the light and be summoned to the Patch Village. As per the agreement with the Asakura Clan, the Patch couldn't intervene in their affairs with Hao, but this was a unique case, deserving of the best forces the Patch could muster to protect the Great Spirit. As it reached the zenith of its flight, the arrow burst as the green light scattered around the globe, alerting the Darkstars.

Jarrah was headed to a client with Gaiya "walking" next to him and Coen floating behind him. Suddnley the warrior ghost noticed the light of Goldva's arrow. "Tjilku, look!" While Jarrah didn't like being called "child" by his ancestor he could tell the ghost was concerned about something and looked just in time to see the green light fade away. Concerned that the light meant what he feared it did he stopped and went back home. Since his appointment was only a routine check up of the wires he didn't feel too bad about missing it but he still wrote a message claiming a family emergency as an excuse.

After he dropped the message off Jarrah left town and kept going for a fair distance to make sure he wouldn't be bothered sat down on the ground. Trusting his two ghosts to keep him safe from any dangerous animals, he began the practice of dadirri or meditation.

Having closed his eyes he listened to his surroundings without saying or doing anything to empty his mind, eventually he went into a trance and opened his spiritual senses to the world around him and spent a few hours like that. What he learned during that time wouldn't have made any sense if he didn't already know about the Darkstars since it was all symbolic, including visions of an Eagle which he interpreted as either America or the Patch and an invented night sky where everything was bright but the stars themselves were countless dark spots.

With his fears seemingly confirmed he went back home to pack for a trip to America, some part of him still hoping he was wrong. Before leaving he double checked if he had packed Coen's boomerang and that the string for Gaiya's tooth didn't show any signs of breaking.

It was days after the false comet has sailed across the sky that Fata appeared in the territory of the Patch tribe. She'd never been outside of her home continent before, and she was fully intending to get the most of sight-seeing... but that could come later. She did have a job to do after all, a duty to fulfill. Before leaving Africa she'd conferred with the spirits of the ancestors that had made their pact with the Patch in the first place, so she had at least some idea of what they looked like and where they could be found. She approached the village, padding along the desert with her friend floating in orb form beside her. The heat was bearable thanks to that, given the spirit's naturally radiating coolness.

Her preparations hadn't been much. She had the basics, her mediums, and not much else. She expected the Patch to be generous hosts for whatever mission they would be needing from her. Fata didn't yet know what the summoning was for, only that it had happened. And, naturally, that it was important. She skipped the last few feet through the mountainous pass.

Whether she was the first or the last of the illustrious "Darkstars" to arrive didn't matter to her. She smiled at the men who greeted her at the fringes of the village, looking up at them due to her stature being on the smaller side.

"Your chieftess summons me," she informed them, showing her pearly white teeth. The two men looked at each other, and seemed to put two and two together after a few seconds.

"You are one of the Darkstars?" The wider of the two watchmen asked, to which Fata nodded animatedly.

"Apparently. Now take me to her, to..." She clicked her tongue a few times, conjuring the woman's name from her recent memory. "Goldva. Goldva! I would discuss the circumstances with her."

The man jerked his chin in his chieftess' direction and turned to lead the way, leaving his partner at his post. Sango made a happy chirping sound, flitting around to take in the sights of the village. For her too it was the first time leaving her home, even in all her years of existing.

Pyrus had been out on his travels when the green light moved across the sky. He and Lobo found themselves sitting on a deserted mesa following another failed search for Blanca's spirit. Pyrus struggled to get a campfire going while the wolf ghost forlornly looked out across the dark expanse.

"Lobo, I know I promised you we'd find Blanca eventually, but it's been over a decade. Are you certain her spirit hasn't already passed on?" The young man heard an irritated growl rumbling in Lobo's throat. "Of course. You can still feel her presence, and that's more than enough reason for you to keep searching." After another strike, Pyrus had a small fire burning for warmth. He was about to stretch out on the bedrock when the night sky suddenly lit up in a brilliant green flare! It didn't take long for Pyrus to realize what it meant.

"Lobo!" The Native American leapt to his feet as the wolf spirit bounded towards him, "Spirit flame mode!" Lobo's body vanished and a small silver fireball burned in his place. Taking hold of the ball, Pyrus spoke the command he'd practiced for emergencies such as this. "Spirit Unity! Skinwalker!" In a matter of seconds, the ghostly apparition of silver limbs appeared over Pyrus's arms and legs. The silver light extended across his body and covered his eyes in a wolf-like mask. With the oversoul completed, Pyrus turned his head in the direction of the Patch Village. Taking a leap off the mesa, the shaman hit the ground and took off running with a speed that would make an Olympic sprinter green with envy.

The next day, Pyrus found himself sitting in a meeting hall with Goldva, the chieftain of the Patch Tribe. Little by little, new shamans began to trickle into the hall; the shamans who were to make up the task force known as the Darkstars. According to Quarta, Pyrus's mentor, the Darkstars came from all over the world and only convened in times of great distress. As this was the first time he'd ever been summoned, Pyrus wondered what event could have caused such a fuss that the Darkstars would be called.

Some time after he left Australia Jarrah arrived in America and headed for the land of the Patch. While he walked as much as possible because it was Gaiya's preferred way of traveling, even letting Coen take over his body during more dangerous parts he also hitchhiked. Not having a lot of money he entertained whoever gave him a ride with stories and boomerang tricks. In towns in order to buy food and such he would act as a street performer/storyteller. Sometimes he would bet that he could pull off literally impossible tricks using his Coen possessed boomerang, but never for large amounts of money.

Traveling this way Jarrah eventually arrived at the land of the Patch, slightly richer than when he arrived in America. At first he didn't know if he had met up with the right native Americans but after confirming that most of them could see his ghosts he was sure of it. He walked up to a random Patch member and explained his situation. "Could you tell me how to find the person that created the green light a while back?"

It was two weeks before Bataar reached the village of the Patch. Settling matters in his home and arranging travel had taken a day, travelling to the coast by foot and finding a boat heading to America had taken almost a week by itself, followed by several days of cross the ocean by steam boat and then finally another trek across the heartland of America to reach his destination.

Incredible.

Truly, the world was more connected now than it had ever been before. To cross half the globe in so short a time would have been unthinkable in his teacher’s day; hell, it had been unthinkable for him too until he had set out on what he had expected to be an arduous journey, only to find it far easier than expected. The world outside his home had advanced while they had been dragging their feet and being stuck in the past; that advance had brought wonders that awed and humbled him. They also worried him.

The journey had been eye opening in many ways. Bataar had seen things he had never imagined he would see on a scale that staggered him, but he also saw less than he had expected. Fewer spirits, fewer places where they could be, fewer people who knew of them and even fewer who cared. Many years ago, his teacher had told him that their way of life was dying out; their traditions and their spirituality. Snuffed out in some cases. Bataar had thought he understood. He did not, until now.

Arriving at the Patch village was like coming home, after all of that. A place where spirits and people lived together. A place where the old ways flourished. Approaching the village, Bataar waved to those he could see, catching the attention of the warriors on watch and waiting for them to come to him. As he did, he conversed with his Sülde.

“What do you think Khan? Do you have any idea why the Patch called us here?”

The spirit in question appeared at his shoulder; taller even than Bataar, broad shouldered and wearing the traditional armour and battle gear of the steppes, the man looked pensive as he considered Bataar’s question. “I do not know for certain, but I feel… something strange. I’ve felt it since the night we first saw the arrow. Something is amiss.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Bataar turned to regard the spirit who had accompanied him since childhood. “Amiss? More evil spirits?”

The Khan shook his head. “No, this is something else. As I said I do not know, but I am sure that this is part of the destiny that led me to you.”

“That so?” It was now Bataar’s turn to look troubled. “I thought we were already done with that business years ago. I can’t imagine anything being worse or more urgent than that night.”

The Patch warriors drew close enough to be within earshot and Khan faded away without another word. Bataar let them lead him into the village to where the other Darkstars were to meet with the one who had called them here; he was not the first to arrive, it would seem.