by M K Drake
Khan and Olof move forward to lift Kazmagus, Atticus comes to help as well. He is reaching out to help lift up the body when Elric turns and sees him.
“No! Atticus, step away!! It is not safe for…”
But it is too late. The moment Atticus makes contact he is blasted back with an immense blast of blue energy. His back is slammed into the back wall of the stage. Joyce runs over and tries to catch him but she is knocked away by another blast of blue energy, this time coming from Atticus. Elric rushes to his aid, and checks Atticus’s pulse, then breathes a sigh of relief before addressing the others as Joyce gets up and dusts herself down.
“Silly boy. He is alive but I cannot sense his thoughts. Joyce, are you ok?”
Joyce nods her acknowledgement. “We need to get him to Madame Healsey as well.”
“Agreed, Mage Callan and Professor Sprocking can you help us?” Elric beckons to the two aforementioned Majjai and they duly lift Atticus with Mage Callan almost unceremoniously throwing him over his shoulder.
“What happened Elric?” Mage Callan asks as he adjusts his stance.
“There is a link between Atticus and Kazmagus, something we do not know. The combined energy of The Void and whatever connects these two is volatile. Until the energy from The Void has gone, it is far too risky for Atticus and Kazmagus to make any form of physical contact.” Elric tries to keep pace with Mage Callan.
“But how did you know about this link? I’m guessing Myrddin? He told you when we went back last year for the cure?”
Elric nods towards Mage Callan, indicating he is correct.
As Khan and Olof lift Kazmagus, something large and heavy falls onto the floor. It looks as if it has come loose from Kazmagus’s belt.
Professor Sprocking hurries to pick it up, “It’s his Sword, in its sheath…, here, there is an inscription on its side. Can you read it, Elric?”
Elric puts on a pair of reading glasses and peers at the inscription. The sheath is beautifully engraved from some sort of bone and encrusted with different coloured gems, some diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. The inscription looks like it is in ancient Sumerian and is carved into the central flat part of the sheath and coloured black with what appears to be lead. Elric takes a moment, he then looks at Professor Sprocking ominously. “This is the ‘Sword of Al-Amir,’ the second Sword of Power!”
“The dragon slayer sword?” asks Professor Sprocking rhetorically, “Finally, a weapon to destroy that scum of a dragon, Draconus!” He looks towards Ju Long quickly after realising what he just said, “No offence, dear boy.”
Ju Long raises an eyebrow and nods, “None taken… old chap,” he says, then looks towards Atticus and Kazmagus. “Now, can we please hurry and get these guys some help? That might be a good thing to do.”
Elric agrees, urging the others to get the patients to their destination as quickly as possible. The Mecha Knights assist by pulling out a peculiar pair of objects from their pockets. Majjai Pali then presses some buttons on the edge of these two rectangular items, a slight whirring sound is heard and then they convert into a duo of large, futuristic-looking stretchers, with a blue neon-like light surrounding the rims and handles.
“These should help,” she says, as Khan, Olof and Mage Callan place their wards on top of the new modes of transport.
They reach the medical ward in a few minutes; Madame Healsey has already received word of their arrival from Joyce who super-sped ahead.
The nurse attends to Atticus first, placing a cold damp flannel on his brow and attaching a bracelet onto his left wrist. She touches the metallic-looking trinket and it sends a blue glow through Atticus’s arm. Madame Healsey pauses and watches the glow for a moment before removing the device. “He is fine, no broken bones or damage. Hopefully he will just wake up soon. I will look again more closely after I’ve dealt with this other chap; what did you say his name was again?”
Joyce looks behind her to where Elric is standing, to gain permission to tell Madam Healsey before answering. He nods, and she says softly, “This could be Kazmagus, Miss Healsey.”
The white witch stops in her tracks, she glowers at all of the elders in the room with a stern look of concern. “Are you sure it is wise to aid him? We have no idea of his nature; we do not know if he is friend or foe.”
Professor Morgan rushes into the room, panting, before Elric can answer. “Sorry I’m late everyone, the assembly took a little longer than anticipated. I saw the Majjai hall is in a bit of a state. Did I miss anything good?”
Olof points to Kazmagus on the medical table.
Professor Morgan looks a little perplexed. “Who is this, then?”
Professor Sprocking shows him the Sword before answering. “This here, my friend, could quite possibly be the return of Kazmagus.”
Professor Morgan looks at his colleague, and then to Elric, before he notices Atticus on the other medical ward bed. “Oh, well, that can’t be good.”
“Why do you say that?” asks Joyce, with a tone of concern.
“Well, from what I’ve read about The Void, and what appeared to have happened at the first Battle of Aria, the essence of Razakel was taken by it. Nothing can exist within The Void without a sentient host; everything must bind with something, look at his veins,” Professor Morgan points to Kazmagus. “They are tinted red, not from blood, which would appear blue; this looks like the same crimson shade of Razakel.”
Madame Healsey checks Kazmagus’ right arm. “He is right, you know; look here.” She looks towards Professor Morgan, “Very clever; I’m impressed.”
Professor Morgan blushes slightly, but stops when he spies Khan nudging Ju Long, who is on the brink of laughter.
“Well,” interrupts Elric, “Madame Healsey, you are in control here, I will stay to assist. Joyce, and the Majjai Six, I think it is wise you all stay, too, we may need all the strength we have if Kazmagus wakes in anger. Professor Sprocking, you and Mage Callan please take the Sword of Al-Amir and analyse it, make sure it is what we think it is. Professor Morgan, I need you back here in a moment, but first, please inform Professor Farnham to look after school matters.”
Everyone moves to carry out their instructions. Professor Morgan waves coyly towards Madame Healsey and heads out of the room quickly, eager to return and help out. Professor Sprocking carries the Sword of Al-Amir and indicates to Mage Callan to leave ahead of him. They are about to step out of the doorway when the room begins to vibrate, softly at first, and then, without warning, much more violently. The Majjai stabilise themselves to keep their footing. Suddenly a flash of blue light behind them focuses their attention and they see Atticus standing fully, his eyes a bright white.
Atticus lifts his left arm, points towards Professor Sprocking, and speaks a single sentence in a deep, guttural tone: “Return to me my Sword, Majjai!”
A Majjai History, Vol 2 Chapter 12: The creatures that stayed:
It was recently discovered that some creatures decided to remain in the Realm of Earth. Rhinors were one such creature. They formed a kinship with the Bhandari Clan and were kept well hidden by their caregivers.
These creatures are magnificent in both size and honour. They resemble the earthly Rhinoceros. Their main differences lies in their much greater size, their pair of horns protruding from their jaws to the side and pointing ever so slightly downwards, and their proportionally longer legs. It’s this last feature that gives them unexpected speed when traversing the land. They are able to negotiate their journey at a pace so quick that they barely make contact with the surface, and are virtually silent when at top speed, which is truly astonishing.
Some unicorns are also said to have remained, but they have chosen to stay as reclusive as possible. As do the winged horses, brothers and sisters of Pegasus.
We have yet to collate any more, but these books will be updated once we are informed of any other magical creatures discovered to have stayed behind.
Chapter 12
The Trouble with Humans’
&nb
sp; General Crawford can’t remember what wakes him first, the beeping from the machines monitoring him in his medical ward bed, or the orders being shrieked by a drill sergeant some distance from his window, but still loud enough to be heard through the double-planed glass and thick concrete walls.
He squints as he senses something else, trying to open his eyes fully. Still feeling a little drowsy from whatever pain killers the doctors have given him he tries to shake it off by moving his head side to side quickly. A bottle of water sits on a table to his left which he opens quickly and drinks. “That’s better,” he sighs as he feels the water trickle down his throat and cool his battle worn body.
He’s been here a few days now, at the Albany Street Barracks. He knows this ward well, as he helped design it for the preparations aimed at the investigations into Majjai goings-on. This section of the barracks not only contains this specialist medical ward, but also a weapons development wing and a special forensics unit to analyse all findings, from video to chemical to biological.
He remembers waking up and not recalling how he actually got there. The last thing he can recollect is a battle with a giant, wolf-like creature that turned into shadow, but there is something else. He has flashbacks of certain things – a group of professors, an older man with a beard, and some students – but cannot quantify the events in any way; it’s as if they are just empty thoughts, a dream that he can’t quite piece together.
He flinches as he swings off the bed and his feet touch the icy floor. After the warmth of the bed cover, the contrast startles him. He soon acclimatises himself and gets up, catching a reflection of his body in the mirror as he disrobes. So many battle scars from wars he never really won. Multiple tours in Africa and the Middle East have brought more pain than satisfaction at getting the job done. Too many horrors have presented themselves in front of his eyes to ever remember what it feels like to be happy.
He smirks for a moment, using the word “happy” is strange now; it’s an emotion he finds too much guilt in experiencing. Moving it out of his mind and his psyche helps him to focus. Some have accused of being cold because of it, but he doesn’t think so. He knows empathy, and replaces feelings of happiness with that; it helps to fill the void. If he can help others be safe and happy in their lives, then that is all he needs to know.
This new threat is different. Things of legend and myth, some even perhaps biblical…, it is a religious fanatic’s worst nightmare. Everything is coming true. Werewolves, vampires, demons that humankind has not even dreamt of, all coming to the fore.
The General takes another sip of water before dressing in the uniform that has been neatly laid out on a chair at the far corner of the room; he hurries to get ready as he remembers the micro drive. It was damaged slightly, but the lab techs said they should be able to pull the data by this morning.
As he finishes putting on his shirt, a nurse enters and is surprised to see him up and about. “Hey, I told you that you need to rest. Do you have any idea how bad your injuries were?”
“Oh, Nurse Heena, I’m feeling absolutely fine, I can assure you.”
“How can you be fine? The scans of your back showed it to be broken – fractured in seven places. How you have healed, I have no idea.”
“Well, I am fine; in fact, my back has actually not felt this good in quite some time, so whatever you did, I’m grateful.”
Nurse Heena looks at him perplexed. “That’s just it sir, we didn’t do anything. It must have been them.”
General Crawford merely responds with a look of inquisitiveness towards the nurse. “So you’ve been cleared then?”
“Yes sir, the Prime Minister himself appointed me to be your caregiver, he trusts me after I saved your life last time. He does wish you would be more careful.”
“That was you? When we battled those Screamer things in Norfolk?”
Nurse Heena nods.
“I only remember bits; it was an ambush. We won that fight, but we lost quite a few men that night. I heard you were the one that pulled the survivors out of there.”
“I was off duty at the time, driving home, when I heard the explosions and then the screams. I dragged you away first after seeing those… things, on the floor, dead or dying. I dragged you to safety, and then about four or five others before your friends in black suits arrived to help.”
General Crawford crosses the room to the nurse and hugs her tightly. “Thank you. Your actions activated the emergency beacon. What you didn’t know is that there was one more of those things wounded, but not dead, which would have finished us off. You saved not only myself, but also my men.”
Nurse Heena blushes. “You’re welcome. Now, I came in here to tell you something.”
General Crawford steps back and waits for the message.
“They said they are ready for you in the lab, something about a disk. I brought the wheelchair here to take you, but it looks like you will probably refuse it, won’t you?”
General Crawford chuckles, “Indeed, you already know me too well.” He makes his way out of the ward and follows the corridor to the lab. As he walks by some of the other medical rooms, he takes a moment to peer inside. He can see some of his men getting treatment too, they are all sedated, but are at least starting to heal. His hatred towards these monsters that have invaded his world grows with each passing moment. To his eyes, these Majjai people are also to blame, and may even be the cause of all these incursions.
The General quickens his pace. This area of the barracks is heavily restricted, and the halls are empty, allowing his footsteps to echo in the silence. The clearance levels required to access this place are at least Level Five, and only a tiny percentage of those in the armed forces have that privilege.
He reaches the lab door and places his thumb onto a scanner placed just to the side of it. A female robotic voice speaks out, “Welcome General Crawford. Please complete two-step verification with retinal scan.”
A hole appears in the wall with a circular platform and a separate slot appears underneath the circular device and from it appears a metallic chin rest.
General Crawford rests his chin on it and places his eye to be aligned with the circular device. After a moment a tiny red light appears and moves up and down the General’s eye, scanning.
“Two-step verification complete General Crawford. You may enter.”
The doors open automatically. The lab itself is large, with many computers and other analytical devices. There is a long bench with a vast number of trinkets and contraptions along the far wall and to the right is another section where some scientists appear to be dissecting the remains of a Screamer’s vocal cords. General Crawford is most interested in though is the technical analysis area.
One of the lab assistants spots the General and waves him over. His workstation is a hive of heavily-cooled computers and view screens. The array of monitors are all linked with different video feeds.
“Morning Colin, so, what did we find? And please tell me you have backups of everything?”
Colin nods as he pulls out a chair for General Crawford. “Of course, it is me you know. I don’t do amateur. I’m a god damn ninja on the computer.”
“Very funny, so you have managed to recover the data?”
“Yes, most of the fragments were still intact, we just needed to throw away the bad sectors and re-piece everything. The processing of that should finish right about…” a *beep* sounds, “…now!”
Another lab assistant enters with a tray of three coffees. “A hand please. Do you have any idea how hard it is to scan your thumb, balance your chin and hold a tray of hot coffee without dying?”
Colin gets up and assists his colleague, brushing back his strawberry-blonde hair, “Always over-dramatic, Pavel. Can you please, for once, not talk about death, or dying, or anything for that matter.”
“Hrmph!” snorts Pavel. “You’re just jealous that I reassembled the video feed before you. Perhaps if you lost some weight on those thunder thighs, the blood
flow to your brain would help you think faster. And don’t get me started on your granddad cardigan.”
“I have a condition! You know this!” Colin snatches the tray away from Pavel, almost spilling the coffee onto the floor, and makes a sarcastic sniffing motion in the air. “When was the last time you washed your ponytail? You goth wannabe with your black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and silly wristband. If I didn’t take time to shower, I’d probably also have enough time to do all these wonderful things. At least I finished the job, and didn’t…”
“Ladies, please!” shouts General Crawford, quite rightly having enough of the sniping happening within his earshot. “We have important work to do.”
Colin and Pavel apologise to the General before taking seats on either side of him.
“Ok, let’s play this back shall we?” General Crawford hovers his hand over the keyboard embedded into the aluminium surface of the desk. He looks over both his shoulders to make sure that his two wards are paying attention before pressing the “enter” key.
The video begins to play as they all grab their cups of coffee and slowly take a sip in unison. The footage begins with the battle against Shadow Wolf. The General grimaces and closes his eyes at the points where his men are injured or killed, then the part where he is hit from his own perspective makes all of them jump. As the camera view shifts to show only the sky the General asks, “Can we forward the video to find out how I got to that damn hospital? I really do not want to see any more of my men…”
“Look!” interrupts Pavel, “You are being moved, but by what?”
“Can we get audio on this thing?”
Colin turns to the General, “The audio track was more corrupt than anticipated; we only have segments of audio.”
General Crawford slams his fist onto the desk in frustration, he returns his gaze to the monitor. The scene has shifted and he recognises the path that he is being taken on before identifying the Manor in the distance. “Wait, that’s Wysardian Manor. And I can hear something – turn that up, will you.”
