by Glen Johnson
Suddenly the creature jerked its head around facing the opposite direction, while standing in one reflexive move. Then out of nowhere a blinding white flash struck the Tigerman in the chest, tossing the creature ba ckwards like a rag doll, dead before it even hit the ground. It slid along, churning up the sand and grit, and c ame to a halt against the very rock Pramos had just been hiding behind.
Pramos knew before he even looked who would be stood there.
“Am I glad to see you?” he shouted, as he stared through the dust cloud that the beast had just churned up.
Dropping the stone to the dusty ground he wip ed his hand on his dirty trousers. It didn’t help his already grubby appearance. The same dusty grime covered his sand coloured, sleeveless top –years of use had washed away any once colo urful des ign. His hair faired no better ; it was scruffy and short , purely to save having to do anything with it. He wore supple brown leather boots, tied up to the knees, trousers tucked into them.
He leant down and hoisted his sack over his shoulder.
“I felt its presences. Never has o ne approached this close before.” She spoke in a silky voice, almost whispering but her words carried easily to Pramos’ ears.
“It was wounded, possibly a territorially dispute,” he said once again dusting himself down, while staring at her with his peripheral vision. He had seen her many times around the village, but she had never spok en to him before. The creatures blood was spotted all over his garments and face. He looked down at the carcass , it had a gapping hole right through it, cauterizing the arteries, sinew and bones, leaving an almost perfect hole. No blood ran from the cauterized deathblow, the blood on his top was from the initial strike.
Minika was the village mag us : every small village or town had one, to protect the populous and keep the magical barrier around the dwellings operational. She stood tall, as all the magi did. She gave off an aurora of pure power and self-assurance.
She glanced at the creature once to check it was dead, not really needing to; the s pell she had cast would have killed most living creatures, apart from the dragons, and a few other more powerful demonic species.
“Lets get back to the village , the smell of blood will soon draw other hungry predators,” she stated looking at Pramos’ blood splattered garments and general disheveled state.
He didn’t argue, he simply turned and started following her. The young female’s movements were graceful and sure, she seemed to glide rather than walk. But even she, as powerful as she was, was only a Second Level sorceress.
Having to overlook a small settlement was part of her tuition. She had to stay away from the larger cities, giving her time to study, to meditate and contemplate things. Ti me to make decisions on her own. But mainly to decide on which path her magic would take. In four days time she would be eighteen, and her Time of Seeking would be over. She would move up to Third Level and choose one of the five elements to study and specialize in, while taking her place back at the larger city dwelling, just over a days march away.
She was a bit of a mystery in the village. She had been there for over two years, but no one really knew her, or anything about her. She kept to herself and had no friends to speak of. She left the running of the village to the Village e lders, and simply concerned herself with keeping the barrier operational and her personal studies.
“A message has arrived from the city of New Babel,” she announced over her slender shoulder, which was wrapped in long white flowing garment that all mag i donned themselves in ; similar to a Roman tunic in style.
Pramos jumped when she spoke. The last thing he expected was to have a conversation with her. He also wondered why this concerned him. The city couldn’t have sent a message to him; most people in the small village didn’t even acknowledge his existence.
“I was on my way to look f or you when I felt the creature s presence.
“We, that is the Council of Seven , have a proposition for you.” She talked as she strode along, unconcerned with any danger to her person, her magic even at Second Level, or Second House was powerful enough to protect them both. But each time she used her magic it weakened her a little, and the powerful spell she had uttered to kill the Tigerman had took its toll ; she needed to rest and recuperate.
Curiosity, as ancient legends s tates, killed the cat. I n Pramos’ experience it didn’t just kill it , it strip p ed its bones of flesh and fur, then burn t it, and the n buried it in a very deep hole with a handful of maggots, then heaved a heavy pile of stones on top, just to make sure.
“Why does this concern me?” he asked. Curiosity might be dangerous but it was also contagious. “What would the leading mag i in the city want with me?” He ran a little to walk beside her, feeling invigorated at being so close. She smelt of jasmine, and he coul d hear the sound of her garment swishing softly against her skin as she walked.
“You! Why do you think it was addressed to you personally?” she said without even looking at him.
Pramos picked a fig from his bag and started to chew it slowly. He hated the way the mag i never gave a straight answer, they always talk ed in riddles. But one thing was certain , his curiosity was ringing like a large, loud bell.
Chapter Two
MISTRUST
The room was warm; just the way the elderly occupants liked it , kept at just above body temperature by their powerful rune magic.
Around the large white oval table, which took up most of the space in the bright airy chamber, sat the Council of Seven : four men and three women. All were dressed the same in long white flowing garments. At the table head sat Simeon the head of the c ouncil, the leading rulers of the human world.
“Time is almost upon us brothers and sisters,” he said bowing his head respectively to each in turn around the table.
“The message has been sent , and soon the Stone Tablet will be in our hands.” He waited for a response; none was forth coming. But they seemed a little confused about what he was referring to.
“We, as you know, have to act swiftly. They–” he waved a soft supple hand out the large crystal window towards the prote ctive screen of the barrier, “–always seem to know what our next step is going to be, as if they have inside information.” He laid his hand down softly on the smooth white wooden surface. The council members felt his gaze slowly drift among them.
“So before the latest information reaches our enemies ears, I took it upon myself to send a communication to the closest mag us in the area.” None of them could meet his stern gaze, they all fe lt as if they were being personally accused of spying.
“She is only Second Level I’m afraid, but we have no choice.” They seemed a bit taken back by this information. All at the table were Seventh Level magi; the highest level achievable , a nd at this most crucial time – so they gathered by his words –he was resting their last hope on the shoulders of a sorceress of only a mere Second House .
“In four days she w ill to be made up to Third Level,” he announced, answering their unspoken question. But even so, Third Level against all that lay on the other side of the barriers .
“I read uncertainty in your eyes. Do you think I haven’t thought this through? Believe me I have.” He stood from his elaborately carved wooden seat and started pacing behind those seated.
“There was a time when I would have gone myself, most here would. But not now, not anymore. We are too comfy in our large sun lit rooms, with our rich finery. We seldom travel outside our fair city; I can not remember the last time anyone here has. Do any of you?” He now stood behind his chair, gripping its tall backrest, his knuckles look ed white through his stretched, almost transparent old liver spot covered skin.
“The Book has finally been deciphered, the location verified. After years of intense study the Book reveals the answer to all our questions, and the cure for the sickness that ravishes our world.” His age seemed to get the better of him, having to once again take his seat. All around the table started murmuring among themselves. He waved
his hand to silence them.
“We have speculated and guessed, but we don’t have to anymore. The Book reveals all.” He lifted his hand slowly, tracing a white misty rune in the air; it looked as if the effort was too much for him, but as he did the rune swelled then disbursed, making the temperature in the room rise slightly.
“Please excuse the heat, I find it eases my weary seventy-one year old bones.” He settled himself down on his chairs elaborately embroidered cushion and continued talking . “In the distant past we have reference to a Great War ; World War III. A war that almost destroyed o ur world. Science it was called. Man was tampering with thing s that didn’t conc ern him. Messing with things called atoms and molecules, creating large Hadron Colliders and such. Magic was unknown to them, something scoffed at, only appearing in storybooks taught to the young. But there was a time long before science and religion, when the magic was as strong as it is now.” He seemed to pause, before mumbling, “Stronger some says.
“Also creatures of nightmares walked the land, creatures we are all too familiar with.” His tired eyes drifted to a long white scar that snaked its way up the back of his hand, disappearing up his sleeve before running right up his arm to his thin shoulder. Slowly his gaze drifted out the sparkling crystal window. He stared for what seemed like an eternity. The other council members looked at each other and wondered if they should speak.
Simeon seemed to snap back to the moment at hand.
“They came together and joined their magical abilities in the most powerful s pell ever uttered; the Spell of Binding. All the evil, vile creatures that walked and crawled over the land were swept away – contained.” He sighed. The others looked around at each other. They all knew this ; everyone knew the ancient stories, even the smallest child did.
“But the Great – so-called – War made cracks appear, the magic was failing. Slowly the vile creatures started to pour back in. We had to hide, use large amounts of our magical ability just to keep the protective w alls in place. Time has gone on. A n unknown number of generations have come and gone. Now I believe we don’t even know the powers we were once capable of, because so much of our resources go into keeping the barriers up . Keeping them out.” He looked away from the window and peered around the white Spartan room.
“The Book mentions a s tone; a Tablet of rock which the ancient magi engraved the words of their powerful Spell on. The Spell that would return the creatures back into their bondage, releasing us from our fear and hiding.” They looked at each other.
Had he, Simeon their leader, really broken the ancient code? Was it possible he really did know the tablets location?
“I have finally cracked the code, after decades of relentless studying. And even as we speak the message I have sent would have reached its location. Even now Minika would; with a group of helpers, be on her way to the s tones location.” He stood, turned and placed his wrinkled old hands on the shimmering clear crystal glass of the thick sparkling window.
They all knew who Minika was, what the significance of her being picked meant. Knew he was referring to her as soon as he said none of them would be going. Even at Second Level they knew it was her destiny, the ancient prophecy had foretold it, even though she was their greatest shame.
“She is our last hope my brothers. There is no time for us to make the journey, and we all know she is more powerful than all of us put together, even if she doesn’t even realize it.”
They all watched him, checking his emotions.
“I also fear they have already guessed we have cracked the code. At this very moment I can feel them gathering, getting ready for one last all-out assault. And who knows , this time they might succeed in penetrating the barriers.” He turned to face the council members.
“You will have to forgive me for not telling you more. For not giving you the t ablets location. But you must find it strange that they can predict our every move? So you will indulge an old mans paranoia when I tell you that only myself and Minika know of the powerful s tones location.” He waited for an uproar, but none was fourth coming.
“See we are growing weak. None of you even speak up like you use d to, all like sheep doing anything I ask.” None could meet his eyes –they knew h e was right.
“Within a few days we will know if sh e ha s succeeded. Mainly, because if she doesn’t we won’t be around long enough to try again. You see there’s a downside to all this, that which I can gather from the Ancient Book. The down side being, if we let them reach the s tone first, they can use the Spell to do the same to us, as we intend to do to them .”
Chapter Three
THORN IN THE SIDE
The great King Vorr sat on the throne; his throne. He had worked long and hard to gain the position he now had, and it was all about to fall apart because of one sniveling human being.
“They know its location,” Vorr said between his talon hands, which were cupping his narrow face. Long red fingers tapp ed his protruding fangs as he talked.
“I can feel them stirring. I can feel their anticipation.” His voice was deep and gravelly. Spittle fleck ed from his long teeth.
“But sssire we are ssstill awaiting conformation from your ssssssource,” Slis hissed between his gummed mouth. A creature which was groveling before the large throne. The creature looked like the cross between a snake, a mutated fish and a dripping hosepipe. It was all scaly, tubular and had countless appendages, all w ere at present prostrate down before the throne.
“Bah. She has grown weak and frightened, but then that’s why she approached us in the beginning…” he tailored off. “The weakling,” he spat.
One of the creatures bowed low to the ground; it could lick the ground if it wanted to from its position.
“What do you wish us to do sire?” Qwat, the second groveling creature, inquired. Qwat, when stationary, looked like a square lump of brown, warty, flesh. It wasn’t until he moved that arms and legs could be discerned.
Many creatures filled Vorr’s chamber –his throne room. The two stood before him were messengers – lackeys, willing to do any menial task just to get recognition from their Lord. There was a time when these creatures saw none as their equal, more-or-less one to rule over them. But times have changed. Being sent into another dimension by the powerful Spell of eons past changed some of their views. Once they had fought each other, with no leadership and no direction. But then they never thought they would be sent away and imprisoned. They d idn’t even believe it was possible .
Vorr had crawled and kicked his way to the top, many lay dead beneath him. He had many scars to prove his ascension to leadership. All the other species leaders bowed down to him.
Vorr was what some would call a demon. But that name conquered up false images, ones of a tall red humanoid creature with a whip tail, large leathery bat like wings and long twisted sharp horns , living in Hades, or as some called it, Hell. But it was a big misunderstanding , they didn’t live in Hades they lived on e arth .
Stories and false ideas passed down from generation to generation had warped the true story . They appeared long ago in the struggle for life, along with all the other creatures ; vampires, ghouls, dragons, werewolves, trolls, humans, dwarves and elves just to name a very few. But the humans saw themselves to high and mighty to share the same space as the lower animals –as they referred to them. The humans had become powerful in magic, hearing the Voice loud and clear. The other inhabitants of their world were too busy fighting each other to notice the humans gathering together –whispering and scheming. Too busy to notice the humans banding together until it was too late. The humans called upon all their joint magical talents, and wiped all the others away in one mighty s pell – the Spell of Binding.
Over time these others became nothing but fantasy and stories. But they had been poised, always waiting for a chance to get back through, and take their anger out on the ancestors of those that imprisoned them. And now they had a leader to help them achieve just that.
“They
know its location, and before long we will once again be crawling on our bellies in a prison of their making.” He roused himself from his huge throne, pull ing his immense powerful body from the seat. His wings unfolded . He stretched them wide , releasing pent up tension. His tail flick ed from side to side. His c law ed feet gripped the ground as his eleven foot of height strolled around the throne while thinking. It looked as if his whole body was just one huge bunched up red muscle.
“They will obviously have to send a party after it ; someone to verify its location.” One hand stroked a curled horn on his head, a habit he picked up while thinking.
Everyone in the vast , cavernous chamber waited. No one would interrupt him while he was thinking –none had the nerve t o. They had seen what happened to the last creature t hat interrupt his musing; some even had to clean it up.
“This is what we shall do.” He retook his seat, his wings tucking in behind him, his red pointed tail flicking casually over the thick black obsidian stone , caved armrest.
“My commanders,” as he said this a large group –one of each species –walked, crawled, slithered and flapped to place themselves before him. It was a gruesome sight, one born of nightmares. Each of the respective Houses bowed (if they cou ld) .
“Each of you will rally your armies , call them fourth from their dwellings and hiding places. Each will watch and surround a location I will give you forthwith. The time is now brothers, we also have a prophecy such as their own, but in this one we are the ones to come out on top. We will control this world that was almost destroyed in ages past. We will find the Stone of Power before them and use its power on them.” This was met with an uproar, screaming, screeching, howling, and banging of all manner of different types of hands, feet, coils and appendages.
“Prophecy… you say? What prophecy?” asked a sharp crisp voice from the back of the crowd. Those around the voice moved away, letting the figure have space to ‘breathe’.
