Atticus & The Blade King

by M K Drake

  “We already know this!” retorts Joyce.

  Hel whirls around screaming. “You know nothing!” She then returns to the hell gate seal and continues her work on it.

  “As I said before,” she says, her voice clipped, controlled. “I owe you information. The only reason you all still breathe is because you upheld your end of the bargain. Honour bounds me to keep mine. There is a reason the book is called ‘The Sparks of Hel.’ Asmodei, in his wisdom, and justified belief of Razakel turning traitor to his greatness, created a contingency that he was unable to ever use. The Partaabs you currently possess, the globes in the possession of Elric, the largest of which was what was used to trap your essence many years ago Atticus, they are more powerful than you could ever imagine. Each is counterpart to a Spark, a key. Obtain all of them, and they have the power to weaken Razakel, drawing out the twisted magic that gave him so much power in the first place. The book will give you the clue to the first. And each one you find will lead you to the next.” Hel turns and smirks. “Now go, and do not return again, except in death. Then I will greet you with a welcoming embrace.”

  Atticus does not want to leave empty-handed, he realises that their brute force approach failed miserably, but he is determined to find a way to rescue Mage Callan from Helheim. He thinks quickly, realising that maybe, just maybe, if he plays to her needs, it could at least give them a chance. “We’re sorry.”

  Hel stops in her tracks, as if she was not expecting such an act of contrition. “Apology accepted.”

  Atticus continues. “How about a bargain? As before. We found you a seal. Is there anything else we can do for you that would at least give us a chance for you to return Mage Callan to us?”

  The other Majjai look directly at Atticus, wondering what game he is now playing.

  Hel nods, her expression thoughtful. “Interesting proposition Atticus. I’m impressed enough to perhaps, give you a task.” She returns her gaze to the trapped Majjai and General. “The price of a soul is not cheap however. Are you prepared?”

  Atticus nods. “What do you want?”

  Hel’s expression darkens, as she smiles callously. “The head of my father.”

  The others gasp, but soon realise that familial loyalties in this world of gods and monsters rarely reflect their own.

  Hel senses this, deciding to qualify the request. “My father is very old, and his age is driving him to do something very foolish. I fear he is making deals that benefit him alone, with no thought for all of existence. He has angered the old gods by putting the truce between the Norse and the Greek at great risk, hoarding our warriors, our Titans. He must be stopped. Bring me his head, and I will allow you safe passage to find your Mage.”

  “Done!” Atticus agrees quickly, before anyone else can intervene. His drive to rescue his mentor compels him to find a way, no matter the risk. He knows Mage Callan would do the same for him, that he would fight to the bitter end to protect and save him.

  “Very well! We are once again honour bound!” exclaims Hel. “Now, go, and only return with what I have asked!” She raises a hand in the air and snaps her fingers.

  With a flash of light and a loud crack, the Majjai and General Crawford find themselves back at Wysardian Manor, inside Elric’s chamber, where he and Joseph sit patiently.

  “Well?” asks Elric.

  Professor Sprocking interjects. “It was exactly as you said, Elric. The deal is made.”

  The others turn towards the Professor and then towards Elric, when they are suddenly disturbed by movement behind them. As they swing round they see the ghostly image of Merlin, smiling.

  A Majjai History: Vol 3 Chapter 11: The Balance of Powers

  With the universe, there is a need to ensure balance is maintained. It is one of the reasons the Horseman, Death, is so strict with his rules. One being dies so another can live. It is his constant, his way of maintaining the balance of souls.

  In much the same way, energy is a finite resource, once used, it takes time for things to rebalance. Nothing ever disappears, energy, much like is stated in the science books of Normals, is merely transferred from one state to another.

  Our source of power comes from deep within the Cosmos, the heart of the universe, its cradle. Some have given this source a name, they call it the Remnant.

  Where the Hearthstone of Creation is what we feel contained the energy of the Big Bang, launching the existence we know now, the Remnant is thought to be exactly as it is named, a piece of the very energy that allowed us to come into being.

  We are unsure of why, or indeed how, but it was Kazmagus that first found a way to tap into this energy, and with it a deep understanding of ourselves. With this knowledge, Kazmagus became the first of the Majjai. And then he found a way to make more.

  Unfortunately, in recent times we have come to discover that this energy itself is finite, the Remnant controls the conduits of power it shares, we merely tap into it in Wysardian Manor via the Awakening Chamber. A room with a direct connection to this mysterious force.

  Some question the reason this entity supplies us with these abilities. Some wonder if this being is motivated by something else.

  Some of the old gods were concerned with the increasing numbers of Majjai, so were gifted, on request, a way to protect themselves. We found from our encounter with Shezmu that the fabled inhibitor crystals exist. Three of the four crystals we understand have now been destroyed, but one still remains, alas, we do not know who currently has it, or what they intend to do with it.

  Chapter 19

  Helping Hand

  “Merlin?” Atticus exclaims. “But, how?”

  The old wizard chuckles, his opaque image flickering in and out of view. “The shard trapped within Mjolnir. Elric managed to extract it, and while the piece exists in your linear timeline, I can still reach out.”

  Atticus recalls the moment the Orb of Time was destroyed, he tries to block that particular chapter out of his mind, as it is a painful reminder of his mother’s passing. Her saving him from Razakel’s attack forever haunts him.

  Elric stands and walks over to Atticus. His long years are now evidently catching him, his movements are slower, and the pain of all those battles are telling through the gaze of his eyes. “Atticus, I know you have been concerned of certain activities, of certain behaviours. We had to allow things to run this course. The deal with Hel had to be struck, for we needed the knowledge on how to defeat Razakel and how to summon the Blade King to join us in our battle.”

  Atticus pauses for a moment, before an unruly thought strikes him. “Does that mean you also knew what would happen to Mage Callan?!”

  The collective internal gasps of everyone else in the room could be felt by the very silence, as they all stared, waiting for an answer.

  “No,” Merlin replies quickly. “This was not known to me, or any part of what I have seen. Someone, or something else is meddling with time. Whatever—or whoever—it is, they are powerful enough to mask their actions even from me.”

  “So there is no guarantee of what you have seen coming to pass? The timeline is split?” asks Khan.

  Merlin shakes his head. “It is uncertain. The variations are minor, and should realign; every scenario I have pursued ends the same as the path you are currently taking. I only intervened in this instance as I sensed the disturbance. I cannot gift you answers, I can only hope you take the right steps.” He turned his gaze to Atticus. “I was the one who told Elric and Professor Morgan not to inform you all. Professor Sprocking only knew of this mission and its possible outcome.”

  Atticus is still confused, if they were supposed to go to Hel, what motivated them in the timeline that Merlin was aware of. “So, if Mage Callan is alive in your previous knowledge of what was to happen, why would we have ventured to see Hel in such a manner as we did now?”

  Merlin smiles again. “Your insightfulness is ever impressive Atticus dear boy. The truth is, your motivation was sparked by the death of another.”


  Atticus notices Merlin’s brief glance to where Khan is standing. The look was fleeting, barely noticeable, but he saw it, and he agrees with the old mage… for anyone else in this chamber, he would do the same. He would rally the Majjai to rescue any of them if there was hope to do so. The realisation that it could have been Khan, one he considers to be brother in all but blood, hurts him deeply. Atticus shakes his head, he needs to focus. Other matters require his and the others attention. “Okay, so, what now? Can you tell us anything? What do we do next?”

  “I wish I could tell you Atticus,” replies Merlin. “But by informing you of the path you should take, could be the very thing that takes you away from it. I can only wish you luck. Carry on your journey as normal. And if the meddler returns to thwart your journey again, I shall return to fix things the best I can. Now, I must go, I feel the connection to the shard fading, it needs to recharge.” Merlin looks over to Elric with a wry smile. “Oh, before I forget, old friend, Knight takes Queen. Better luck next time.” And with that, he disappears from view, melting back into the corridors of time.

  “What did he mean by that Elric?” asks General Crawford curiously.

  Elric frowns before answering. “The crafty so-and-so beat me again, check mate.”

  Everyone lets out a quiet chuckle, apart from Atticus, he knows he needs to get everyone back on track, to the task at hand. “Okay, so what do we do now? Hel wants Loki’s head served on a platter. She has shown how powerful she is, and we need to work out what these Sparks are and how to find them!”

  “Agreed!” states Olof, also keen to get things moving. “We need to concentrate on one task at a time. We work best when we are together. So we should focus on Loki first.”

  Atticus nods, and waits for Olof to continue.

  “We should not underestimate Loki, he may well be a trickster, but he is also old, wise, and almost as powerful as Hel.”

  “Yes,” Khan adds. “He also has the Kraken, the Minotaur, Alvarez, Shadow Wolf, and that traitor Scourge. These are the ones we know about; who knows who or what else he has on his side.”

  Atticus sighs, the weight of the encounter ahead is heavy, the risks are high, but this is the path in front of them. Who can help them? He turns to Elric. “Kazmagus? Any word from him?”

  Elric shakes his head. “No, I have tried, but he has completely blocked himself out. The last battle, with Death and the Horseman, they must have taken a toll. I sense only his need to be left alone to recover.”

  Atticus grimaces with pain of thought. “What about Marcellus? The Horsman himself? Surely they owe us some help? Even if it is to save themselves from Razakel?”

  “I wish they could help Atticus,” replies Elric solemnly. “But they are bound by higher powers, higher rules that forbid them from interfering.”

  Khan turns to address the room, he looks at Atticus who nods back knowingly. “Then it seems all paths lead back to the same. We need to find the Blade King, and we need to find him now.”

  The God Chronicles

  These new Majjai are really quite interesting. They are much more reckless than the ones of old—less learned, but certainly more powerful. They just do not know it. I shall use this to my advantage in the coming days.

  Their arrogance does not differ though. Despite me telling them as blatantly as I could, still they do not understand their own wrong doings. They bask in this notion they are beacons of light, a force for good. They do not qualify for that honour.

  They boast of their murders, not realising their hypocrisy. The fools. There is goodness in the demon world, in Skarvak.

  The Majjai elders decreed this name must never be disclosed to anyone—not even Elric knew, and he is supposed to be the wisest of all Majjai. But even he was fooled. And I know why they decided on the masquerade. Maybe I should tell Atticus this, why this name was hidden!

  But would they believe me? Would they believe the facts? Would they comprehend why? Would they want to? Would they understand that they did this to ensure that demon-kind would be faceless, and feckless? That associating them with a home, a land with a name... would make them more... human... Would just a name of a land have given them more meaning?

  These Majjai are as evil as the darkest beings I’ve encountered across this universe; the tiniest of details they would use for the tiniest of advantages.

  Only the Staff of Mages will have the answers I need now. I cannot trust anything else. Especially not Razakel.

  The upstart, he has indeed become powerful, but he should also be careful. The gods of old are not weak, they are just bored. Should he anger them, anger me? Well, we might just do the Majjai a favour and do the job for them.

  My daughter is also up to something, I’m not quite sure what yet, but, if it is what I suspect, she is also playing a very dangerous game. She needs to be careful.

  Ha! Look at me, caring for a daughter who would not shed a tear if I ever died. Well, if that ever happened... I have plans afoot to stop that, too. She will not have my soul, the very notion is absurd. I would not give her the pleasure.

  Right, I best go and get some food for this annoying Minotaur! All he does is eat. I may just feed it to the Kraken and be done with it.

  A god’s work is never done!

  Loki

  Chapter 20

  The Shade of Kukulkan

  Atticus wakes from his slumber as Spitfire jostles against the turbulence. The skies tonight are not kind, as a storm rages hard, hindering their progress. He looks around. The other Majjai Six, accompanied by General Crawford and Pali; all are awake—apart from Ju Long, whose snoring is the most likely cause of the lack of sleep in the others, it almost overpowers the crashes of thunder outside. Atticus cracks a wry smile, glad that he himself managed to at least gain some rest. Mage Avipaul had managed to get a rough location of the island where the Dark Majjai are supposed to reside, which is the best clue that they have as to where they may find the Blade King. It’s quite a distance from Wysardian Manor, somewhere close to the western side of South America, but without an exact location, it was impossible to open a portal or teleport there.

  Atticus wonders what they will encounter when they arrive. Pali and Safaya, the most learned of the group had shared what they knew. The island was said to have its own self-sustained eco system, made so that its inhabitants can lead the most comfortable lives possible. Because they are deemed too dangerous to allow back into the world of Normals, the island is cloaked and hidden. Only those with Majjai abilities are able to see it. They had also learned its name, Jaziréye Rouhãn-e Mordéh, loosely translated as the Island of Dead Souls. Atticus wonders whether whoever named the place could have come up with something any more ominous.

  “Hold tight everyone!” Spitfire communicates through his speakers. “We are almost at the co-ordinates Mage Avipaul gave to us. I suspect an island that doesn’t want to be found will not make this journey easy.”

  Atticus stands and heads to the cockpit area, stepping over Ju Long’s outstretched legs as he does so; managing to resist the urge to accidentally-on-purpose nudge him on the way. Peering through the window, he sees what Spitfire means. The storm is getting more and more violent as they swerve and dive to avoid lightning bolts, tornado funnels along with giant tsunami like waves.

  “You know, Spitfire,” Atticus says as a thought suddenly hits him. “I’m thinking the Majjai of the time probably guessed that air and sea travel would be the only ways to get to this place… but what about under the water?”

  “You could well be right Atticus,” says General Crawford with an impressed tone. “Spitfire, let’s take the fishy route shall we?”

  The Majjai hold on tight as Spitfire dives into the water, morphing into his underwater vessel incarnation. They can all still hear the noise and chaos from above the waves, but it appears Atticus was correct. The journey below the water’s surface is much calmer, albeit slower.

  Atticus turns and takes his seat next to Joyce, holding her hand softly
as she rests her head on his shoulder. The gesture, the warmth of her just being next to him, blankets his fears, protecting him, as she always effortlessly does. He closes his eyes as he takes in a small breath, smelling the sweet perfume she is wearing today, and clasps her hand a little more tightly, but still with the tenderness their bond has intuitively engendered. For all his faults, he knows Joyce will always see just him, and what he is trying to do. The pressure of being the ‘Chosen One’ takes its toll, and he keeps his thoughts from the others, wondering if they will understand.

  He clasps his sword with his other hand. The Sword of Ages still speaks to him, sometimes trying to influence his decisions, as do the odd voices he continues to hear in the Manor. He also recalls the perils the Majjai as a whole are now facing, with this yellow sickness that has befallen them. The world is unaware of the dangers, if the Majjai fall, the world falls, then who knows what else will follow. And he has to lead this young group of friends, who he sees as family, into battles, and a war that could well be the end of some, if not all of them. The fear of making the wrong call, the pain this causes him makes him shudder involuntarily.

  “Shh,” Joyce whispers. “It will be okay. I trust you.” She places a hand on Atticus’s cheek and gently kisses the other.

  “Can you two please get a room?”

  Ju Long has finally awakened, and is staring at Joyce and Atticus cheekily. “Now, that was an awesome sleep, can’t believe I was so tired. Spitfire has some really comfy seats.”

  The others look at him sternly, with Khan holding onto Olof for fear of him sending a backhand so powerful that it would divert Spitfire from his course.

  Ju Long looks around perplexed. “What?”