by M K Drake
“What did you find?”
Joseph clears his throat, sits down, and waits for Marcellus to follow suit. “What do you know about an Amethyst, I think it is called the Amethyst of Al Hammad.” Joseph waits for Marcellus to answer, but is kept waiting. His friend stays completely silent, his skin turns pale, his eyes, usually full of excitement and alertness become sullen, as if remembering something lost a long time ago.
“How did you hear of the Amethyst Joseph?”
“Someone else is helping me, too; she will be hear soon, you will see.”
Marcellus leaps forward and grabs Joseph’s upper arms with both of his hands, holding him in place with force. “You must not go down this path. The Amethyst…, it is dark magic from beyond this plane of existence. Its creator is dangerous, more dangerous than the Horseman, possibly more dangerous than Razakel!”
“So it exists?” Joseph says, trying to wriggle free from Marcellus’s grasp.
“It exists. But, the penalty of use is too high. Once you are bound to the Amethyst of Al Hammad, it will compel you to take life, and every life you take will burden your soul until you cannot take it anymore. Death will come to you, in more ways than one.”
“But will it give me the strength and power that I need?” Joseph says, unrelenting in his pursuit of knowledge. “The power to protect Atticus, to fight demons, monsters? Will this work?”
Marcellus breathes deeply and calms himself before releasing his grasp and letting go of Joseph. He paces away from his friend and faces the window looking out in to the front garden, “Aye, my friend, it will. I cannot lie to you, But it does not give that power freely. The price is too high.”
“So you will not help me?” asks Joseph.
Marcellus sighs. “I cannot,” he turns to face Joseph. “But only because I want to protect you from this thing. There are other ways Joseph, safer ways, but they will take time. You must be trained if you want to protect Atticus.”
“Then please leave. You are like a brother to me, but if you will not help me, and do not trust me to be able to use this power and not succumb to its evils, then you underestimate me.”
Marcellus looks deeply into Joseph’s eyes, and sees that there is no dissuading him on this. “Very well, but remember, I’m there if you need me, always. I hope you come to your senses soon. And I implore you again, please do not take this path, it is far too dangerous.”
“The only help I want is the help to find this Amethyst. If you will not, the one who told me about it will.” Joseph points to the door, indicating for Marcellus to leave.
Marcellus silently leaves the house, with only a timid nod towards his friend, almost as if acknowledging his pain with understanding of his own.
Joseph watches solemnly as Marcellus walks down the garden path, closes the gate, and walks down the street away from the house. As Joseph is about to shut his front door he hears a voice call out.
“Wait, it’s me! I’m here!”
Joseph peers outside to see Dr. Wei Sparks running up the garden path, carrying what looks like an old, heavy, leather-bound book in her arms.
She enters the entrance hallway, panting, and shoving the book into Joseph’s hands, “Here, I found it. This is only book about the ancient dark amethysts in existence. It is handwritten, and I’ve only just managed to decipher the important bits around the Amethyst of Al Hammad. But, your friend, Marcellus, that was him walking out just now?”
Joseph nods. “Yes, why?” he asks before leading them to the dining table in the kitchen where he puts the book down on its surface and pulls out a chair for Dr. Wei before pulling one out for himself.
Wei takes her seat and begins to flip carefully through the pages of the old book to find the chapter she is looking for. “Well, this Amethyst, it has an amazing history. It is an artefact that is able to imbue its bearer – even those without magic – with magical powers. But the downside is that whoever bears it, their soul is tied to every life they take. The more they kill, the heavier the burden, until the weight consumes the bearer’s soul and delivers it to Death himself.”
Joseph sighs. “Yes, yes, I know all this, Marcellus just told me.”
“He did huh? Well, did you ask yourself how he knows so much about this?”
Joseph shakes his head.
Dr. Wei smiles before continuing. “Well, I deciphered that it was one of the World Enders themselves that created the Amethyst, as another gateway to the afterlife. It was not meant for direct human use, that was a side effect, but an angel stole this stone in an attempt to slow the apocalypse, and to save a woman he fell in love with – the woman who had been chosen to be the test subject for the device. This angel was having none of it. He was punished by the Angel of Death and banished.”
Joseph strokes his chin softly, trying to take in this information. “Ok, so, what does this mean in terms of finding the stone?”
“After the angel was banished, he became known as the Fallen Angel, and he gave the stone to ancient Majjai for safekeeping. They drew an image of him, here,” Joyce’s mother points to a picture in the book.
Joseph stares in disbelief. “But, how?”
“It makes sense now; did you ever wonder why your friend still looks exactly the same as he has for all these years?”
“I don’t know, good genes?”
Dr. Wei slaps the back of Joseph’s head lightly. “Duh! Immortal genes!”
Joseph slumps back in his chair, confused. “So, what do we do now?”
“We go to Cairo, the stone is there. If we can find it, we may not only get you the power you need, but we may even be able to help Marcellus gain back his wings. We must leave tonight, although we may have to wait for our visas at the border. My friends in the consulate can help us.”
Joseph wonders if he should call Marcellus, but what would he say? How could his friend have hidden this information from him for all these years, and how could he have been so blind as to not see it himself. Regardless, Joseph takes comfort in the knowledge that if what Dr. Wei says is true, here, right now, he has the opportunity to not only gain power to protect Atticus, but also maybe help his friend.
He takes one last glance towards Joyce’s mother, who sits patiently, waiting for him to respond… “I’ll go pack.”
Chapter 21
Confirmation
“What plan?” Joyce splurts, glaring at Atticus. “How can you have a plan already?”
“Distraction and deception?” Khan says, also looking at Atticus.
Atticus winks at Khan before looking back at Joyce. “See, Khan gets it.”
Ju Long looks at the entrance to the Tomb of Kazmagus, still glowing blue from Elric’s protection spell. “You know, I could just phase us all through.”
Olof smirks, standing tall over his friend while taking a good long look at the tomb entrance. “I would actually love to see you try.”
Atticus watches as Ju Long analyses the doorway, thinking that Elric would surely have prevented such an intrusion. But if not, it would save a lot of time, so he doesn’t deter Olof from his goading. And when Ju Long glances at him, he shrugs. “Your call if you want to try, mate.”
The Dragonheart doesn’t seek anyone else’s approval and steps towards the door, watching the blue light as it pulsates around each crack and crevice. “There is a pattern, if I can phase myself in time with it, then…” Ju Long starts to disappear and reappear in a rapid manner, almost flickering in and out of visibility. The others watch him step forward like a ghostly apparition, “Almost there…” he says as he holds out a hand and attempts to pass through. “It’s working!”
The others all watch, waiting.
“He might actually do it,” says Atticus, hopefully.
Ju Long next puts his right foot forward, and abruptly gets sucked into the door.
The others panic and surround the entrance.
“Ju Long! Are you ok?” screams Olof, now visibly worried after being the one responsible for egging his friend o
n.
They can hear Ju Long screaming, “Woah, woooooaaahh!” the sound fluctuating in volume as if he is on a high-speed carousel. Suddenly, without warning, Ju Long is flung out of the door, crashing into Olof and knocking him over.
Khan helps them both up. “Are you ok?”
Ju Long rubs his head. “Ok, so maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Yes,” replies Olof. “It was foolish. Why ever would you think it would be something Elric would not have thought of?”
Joyce turns towards Atticus and looks at him sternly. “Well, Pancake Man, I hope you have a better plan?”
Atticus watches his team all focus their attention upon him, but does not feel pressure, does not feel fearful; for the first time, he actually feels like a leader. “I do.”
# # #
Vengeance stands silently in his chamber, a cave system bored out of the chalk composited hills of the Lea Valley, about 30 miles north of London. He chose this abode many millennia ago, the added filtration of the chalk surface purifies the air and the water , and he finds the echoes of the world that batter through the physical elements of reality more soothing here. World Enders are cursed to hear almost everything that exposes itself on the plane of existence they are on; these caves help to shelter some of it.
He is waiting for something he planted some days ago, when they held Kazmagus; even if it was for mere moments, the value of the capture was great. There are those that still doubt his arrival, but Vengeance will soon have proof that the ancient Majjai is indeed here, and is as powerful as the legends say. He can hear his little spy’s arrival as it slithers along the floor. “You did well little one,” Vengeance says as he kneels down to pick up the slug he sent on its mission. “Now, please, put it in here,” Vengeance holds out an opaque goblet with some ash-like powder already inside.
The slug opens its multi jawed mouth and vomits the blood of Kazmagus it collected from the grass and mud in to the goblet.
Vengeance mutters something under his breath. As he does so, the volume of the blood expands and the powder mixes itself with it, creating a swirling motion; soon after a puff of smoke shoots from the surface of the liquid, creating a cloud above the World Ender. The cloud spins, turning blue, then white, and finally red. It then forms into a vortex and ends its display with a whoosh of sound as it sinks back into the opaque goblet, with merely a tiny ripple emanating from the centre providing any evidence of the former activity.
Vengeance smiles beneath his hood. “Time to inform Razakel,” he says as he raises an arm, creating a communications portal in front of him. As the portal opens, he sees Razakel still attempting to tinker with the remains of his pillar; scores of Screamers can be seen moving back and forth carrying materials and tools, seemingly trying to repair the damage in the room and reconstruct the demon’s device. Razakel senses the portal and turns, menacingly, to address the Horseman.
“What is it? You contact me without the Scrolls? Have you word from our Egyptian friend?” snarls the Demon Lord.
“No, Lord Razakel, I have other news. Confirmation of Kazmagus’s arrival.”
Razakel’s eyes widen. “And you survived? Good. You have evidence?”
Vengeance nods. “With blood,” he says holding up the goblet as proof. “And you were right, your essence was present. The clouds glowed red.”
“Excellent! You must inform Alvarez, he has found a collector that could be used to tear my life force from this Majjai scum.”
Vengeance sighs. “The task may be more difficult than you think. Kazmagus simultaneously defeated Scourge, Shadow Wolf, and Alvarez with very little effort.”
“The time will come, once we have the scrolls; then the Majjai will be too pre-occupied. You will engage Kazmagus and allow Alvarez the opportunity.”
“This was not part of our original agreement. I was merely to deliver the Scrolls, and the soul of Elric, the oldest of Majjai souls, was to be my payment.”
Razakel laughs. “Ha! You fool, that honour belongs to Kazmagus, it his soul that is ancient, and you may have it in the stead of Elric’s.”
Vengeance ponders this for a moment. Kazmagus’ soul is indeed much, much older than Elric’s, but the danger in acquiring it is also much greater. “Very well, but the terms will change. I want vengeance not just against the parasite that is humanity, I want it against my brothers, too. I need you to arrange a meeting.”
Razakel scoffs. “You dare demand terms with me?”
“I demand fair payment. Or is the return of your life force not valuable enough?” Vengeance waits for his answer. He can see Razakel contemplating these new requests as he whispers to Herensugue, who has slithered by the Demon Lord’s side.
Razakel returns his gaze to the Horseman. “Very well. I am aware of your story and the circumstances of your banishment, and I anticipated your demands. The Amethyst of Al Hammad is in play, so at least one of your brothers will be seeking out the Realm of Earth. I expect the others will follow.”
Vengeance smiles. “Excellent. I look forward to the upcoming events. Your request is accepted, you shall have your life force returned.”
Razakel nods his acknowledgement to Vengeance and waves his hand in front of the communication to close it.
Vengeance smiles gleefully. “I trust you not one bit, demon. I have my own contingency plan in place,” he says, holding the goblet high above his head before bringing it to his lips and consuming the liquid contents. He can feel the transformation instantly, painful at first as he writhes and holds his stomach, but as the power begins to course through his veins he begins to laugh, louder and louder. He can sense his own power magnifying with not only Kazmagus’ essence, but also Razakel’s. “Ha! Now we shall see true power, now we shall see, the End of Days!”
The Scrolls of Kazmagus: Catalogue Translation ID 276.81: Where is Asmodei?
Something odd has happened. Demons flee their realm, but do so in a charred state. Their lands are contained by a new fire. They scream that Asmodei is defeated and that his pet, Razakel, is now in command. But the leadership of Razakel is ruthless; even to his own kind he is merciless.
With the doorway of Asmodei destroyed, there are rumours that the new demon king is constructing a portal pillar that could create an entryway large enough to transfer his own energy signature to the Realm of Earth.
Asmodei, although demonkind, would fight with a level of honour, and his goals were not to invade – and only he could travel through his doorway. He saw Earth as merely a distraction; his eyes were set on a much bigger prize.
On the other hand, Razakel, being born of Earth, covets it dearly. This could foreshadow dark times ahead for mortal and Majjai kind.
Kazmagus was heard to have gone to battle Asmodei, to counter the demon’s wrath at the loss of his love. I suspect this whole thing was a plot, construed by Razakel. I pray our leader is safe. the Void was sensed, and the fact that neither have since been seen… I fear the worst.
Chapter 22
Forced Creation
“We need Elric’s staff. It is the key to releasing the lock on the tomb entrance,” says Safaya. “This part of Atticus’s plan is obvious, but why choose us two?”
Ju Long is less puzzled as he leads the pair towards Elric’s chamber. “Well, you’re going to have to distract him, while I go in and borrow the staff. If there are any protection charms on his doorway, he will surely release them when he opens it.”
Safaya quickens her step, forcing Ju Long to follow suit, but she is still concerned at her own ability to be any form of distraction. “But how? Perhaps I could ask him for more information on the League of Aria. Khan has been incredibly vague on those matters; he still hasn’t taken me to their training grounds, always making an excuse. I wonder if Elric could actually intervene.”
“I think you have just found your tactic,” Ju Long says. “See, that wasn’t hard.”
Safaya glowers at Ju Long, not knowing if he is giving her a compliment or serving her an
insult disguised as sarcasm; Olof is usually his target, but Atticus has given the Norse Majjai another task. Safaya has been impressed with the way Atticus has grown recently; he is turning into the leader that has been prophesised, and although this plan does have its issues, she trusts that the team will follow through. She just wishes she had not been tasked with this particular job.
# # #
Olof and Joyce wait patiently in the rear courtyard outside Wysardian Manor, standing under one of the great oak trees that dot the grounds. The fact that school is in session has meant that they have to be discreet. The Majjai Six are not meant to be absent from their classes right now, so Atticus issued their tasks in pairs for most of the team, as a backup in case the other needs support. Even so, with all six missing, someone will surely notice – and probably sooner rather than later.
Olof looks up towards the tower where Elric’s office lies. “Hurry Ju Long,” he mutters. “We are too exposed out here.”
Joyce rubs her shoulders as a breeze catches her, feeling colder than the spring sunshine would suggest. “I’m sure they will work as fast as they can, once you grab the staff from Ju Long, I will speed my way to the tomb entrance. I’ve already planned the ideal route. Atticus and Khan just need to be ready. Mage Callan will be less easily distracted I fear. Are you sure you will be able to replicate the staff?”
Olof looks at his hands. “Creating the replica is not the problem, the ice staying cold enough, long enough, is where we may have a problem. Atticus will need to be quick to get his answers. And Safaya will need to hold her concentration.”
Joyce looks at the oak tree they are standing next to; reaching out a hand she caresses the bark. “Safaya is confident she can do this. If you can create the mould, she can wrap it with the tree’s wood. It may not be perfect, but it will do for the time we need it.”
