Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1)

by Sedrie Danielle

  “You bring us here, insult us and yet Solon decides to go absent? There is a plan at hand, but to what extent? I do not know. I charge you, Cornelius, with attempted confinement of my order. What was your plan? Throw the Knights in the Oubliette to gain dominance over the Earth?” Rufus asked intensely.

  Cornelius began to laugh, but Cesare didn’t find it funny. He sliced a deep wound down the center of Cornelius’s torso, ripping his robes.

  “Another word, and I’ll cut out your tongue. Bitch. Yeah, I know about you. Every time you speak I smell Solon’s ass,” Cesare said winking. Dosos kicked Messalla and waved his robe; using his gift of transmutation to create a rocket launcher. He shot Cesare, blasting him into a thick abyss. Adonis flew after him, catching him and brought him back to the fight. Quintus sliced Dosos’s calves causing him to shoot one of his fellow Alchemists; causing a bloody mess. The blood dripped down into the rift of the Oubliette; hitting the helmet of Proculus who watched it intensely as it dripped upon the soil which he stood.

  “The blood of the witch falls upon the black soil,” Proculus said. Rufus could feel the rumble as it hit. He reached into the rift, sealing it with his Magia before it stretched. “Knights! Move out!” he ordered as he re-opened the path back through the pillars; leaving the Alchemists to fend for themselves. Cornelius was bleeding profusely and Dosos helped him muster enough energy to open their portal leading to Castle Panchrest.

  “Stupid sons of bitches!” Rufus shouted as he lost his reserve momentarily.

  “Don't worry about it Rex. Whatever got out we'll lock it back up,” Adonis said. As the other Knights gathered.

  “Boys, we got us a real shit storm coming. Baron Kriminel has been released, and that is one motherfucker you don’t want to clang swords with. Now, I have to figure out a way to put the bitch back without alchemy,” Rufus said.

  “Were the Alchemists no help?” Caden asked.

  “Fuck the Alchemists! They were trying to seal us in Smyrna too,” Quintus said.

  “But at least that one guy got blown the fuck up,” Adonis said laughing hysterically. The others joined him in laughter as they made their way up to the Round Table for a plan.

  “Alright, first thing's first. Tell Mila to shut the Palace off to Alchemists. I know that she heads that order, but the BGs are an extension of us. They place themselves in danger by allowing them entry. I'm recharging the expelling sigils with or without her consent. That means you'll probably not be able to enter Messalla, since you're still an Alchemist at heart. She'll bitch about it I'm sure, but that's your department Borgia,” Rufus said.

  “So why did the Alchemists try to trap you guys?” Caden asked, getting back to the original topic.

  “Think about it. They get rid of us, they become the most powerful order. They would have reign to do what they want, to whomever they want,” Rufus said.

  “Now, our other issue is the Prophet. I think he got a taste of the evil that the angels can bring, but his motives are still unclear to me. He has a million sheeple at his disposal, which also puts a huge target on his back. There were more than just the Orders present. He got the attention of the sheeple and by extension, the sheeple police. I do not wish to tangle with that bullshit again. Now then, I'm opening the floor to reports,” Rufus said kicking his boots off.

  “Well, we can start with that I Am guy. Who is he and more importantly, what is he?” Cesare asked.

  “I Am?” Claudius asked, leaning in to get the scoop.

  Cesare explained the encounter with I Am at Cemetery Gromere and the strange energy at the Great Hudna feast; Rufus and D’Artagnan adding to the story. Claudius then retrieved a scroll from the library; penned by the 7th Prophet. It was made of old animal skins, much of the writing was faded and it crumbled to the touch. He took great care and unrolled it slowly on the Round Table, adjusting his glasses hoping he could remember how to read it.

  “What language is that? Aramaic?” Caden asked, walking over to Claudius’s side of the table to get a closer look.

  “No little brother. This is Adamic.”

  “Adamic? Impossible,” Cesare said, also getting up to take a closer look.

  “Cesare, have you not learned that there is no such thing as impossible in our world? This is one of the few manuscripts in the history of ages that gives us a glimpse of the language of the Firsts.”

  “The Firsts?” Caden asked, when Rufus slid him a Bible.

  “Come on boy, your father is the Lord of Roses. Surely you know of the Garden of Eden story and the first man,” Rufus said. Caden was intrigued as he flipped to Genesis, attempting to make the connection.

  “The Firsts were those first humans fashioned by the hands of the Demiurge. As you know, the Demiurge is not a singular consciousness which spawned us, but rather a collective consciousness including the Shekinah whom gave us the breath of life. For the most part, Adamic was unspoken as thought was the medium for communication. Thought creates vibration and vibration creates tone giving birth to the Logos; another aspect of the collective. Adamic is not a language like we are familiar with, this here is a set of tones which can be used to manifest the creator’s will. I will not utter the vibrations of this scroll as I am unclear what it will become.”

  “So in other words, its like reading a sheet of music.”

  “Indeed little brother. But the tale of this I Am character brought chills down my spine as I remembered reading about another aspect of the Demiurge, perhaps the most mysterious of them all: the Ein Sof. It is the idea of endlessness. The 7th Prophet went mad when he attempted to understand this concept, and this scroll recounts the last written dialogue of this Prophet. See here, towards the bottom the Adamic turns to an old pre Aramaic dialect which we call Bab-El. This was the language that all men spoke before the towers were struck by the Powers. It reads: There a man stood between two pillars of light, and between them was darkness all about. In his hand was the dead fruit from the Garden, rotting and foul. He called out to me and told me to eat of this fruit but I did not, for I remembered the transgression of my fathers. “To eat this fruit would set death upon me, and I wish to live,” I said, and the man buried the fruit between the pillars. “Oh great one, I am but a weak man, unworthy to call you by any name. But as I man I must know to whom do I owe praises for burying the accursed fruit in the soils of redemption?” I asked and he turned to me and replied: “Ehyeh asher ehyeh. Follow me through the darkness and let my light guide you home--”

  “Bullshit!” Cesare shouted, interrupting the reading of the Prophet’s words. Claudius took his glasses off in frustration, but let him rant and rave about the contents.

  “Cesare, I understand your discontent, but there is truth to these words.”

  “No. I was not created to be a slave to anything!”

  “Cesare, this isn't about slavery. You being a Cardinal should know better. Our magic is not our own, it came from somewhere; a world we did not create. In order for us to achieve this elevation, we must study the ways of the Demiurge. In our existence, Earth has been witness to three Reckonings. This will be the fourth because there are those of us who are unwilling to digest a simple understanding.”

  “Which is?”

  “That we are not in control,” Claudius answered.

  ***

  While the Black Knights continued their discussion, the Blue Palace had come to a quiet calm as the Orders had returned to their respective temples. Mila shut down access to most of the Palace; leaving the main floor open for emergencies. Valina took the opportunity to practice her dance skills while no one was around.

  Tyrese's Shame played over the bar where a handsome man sat alone. His long, coat fell over the backless chair, tattoos covering every inch of his body; only leaving his face free of ink. His hair was short and spiked, side burns thinned as it trailed to his jawbone. He sipped on a glass of bourbon with a defeated look upon his face which typically signaled a break up. The Blue Palace was a haven of comfort for the lost, wea
ry, and downtrodden.

  “We don't see many Alchemists here. Especially not by themselves,” Mila said approaching in a pair of black Louboutins. She walked behind the bar as if to serve him, but curious as to why he was there. Her senses were off as the unbearable pain in her stomach would come and go; her arousal peaking for reasons beyond her understanding. She grunted and Solon took notice as she inched closer. The soft jingle couldn’t be heard over the music, but the tingling around his wrist startled him.

  He quickly looked down and the gris-gris was glowing. His heart nearly stopped as he did not expect to find his soul so quickly but alas, it was glowing. He smiled as she wrapped an apron around her curvy hips.

  “I hope you don't mind, but I helped myself to some Bourbon,” he said in a deep, mysterious voice.

  “It’s a slow night, especially with everything going on. I told the girls to lay low for the moment because we’ve pretty much shut the Palace down. But here, let me fix you something divine,” she said grabbing his glass.

  “I didn't look to be served by the Grand Dakini of the house. I am honored,” he said holding his hand to his heart.

  “Nor did I she expect to serve the Grand Magistrate. I’m Mila. It’s nice to finally meet you Solon,” she said, holding her hand out.

  He took her hand and kissed it gently. She paused for a moment as she fell into his green, yet dark eyes. There was something familiar there, something which reminded her of her husband.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing her deep stare.

  “No. I just thought --”

  “Thought what?” he asked smiling, showing a dimple on his left cheek.

  “I thought Solon was this tired, old man with wrinkles for days, like Elder Red Cloud. Not some young, sexy guy,” she said blushing a bit. She was very attracted to him but didn't know why. He laughed.

  “Well, dearest Mila. I am tired, and old. Yet, what kind of Alchemist would I be if I let myself go?” he asked as she handed him a blue, red and green layered drink.

  “I suppose you're right. So what brings you here tonight? Should you not be with your Order?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Indeed, but there is something that ails me. It’s something that only the Blue Goddesses can fix.”

  Mila thought it was odd that the Grand Magistrate would come for help, but she sensed something was amiss. “Are you having problems with Cornelius? Your eyes, they look so sad,” she said, as she continued to stare.

  “I have grown a disdain for him, yes. But that is not the issue,” he said, taking a sip of the drink, scrunching his face. “That's strong,” he said, feeling the burn travel down his esophagus.

  “Yes well, it’s a favorite of the Sons of Ragnarok. They drink that shit by the tankard. Black Bear drank two gallons of it and didn’t die,” she said, laughing while trying to read his energy. He was guarded, and she couldn't see past his eyes.

  “I have come for the same reason every other does. A healing touch, which I cannot give myself. I have been locked up in Castle Panchrest too long and my mind has become weary. I have recently come across something which I cannot quell. A craving,” he said running his fingers up her arm.

  His soft touch teased the short hairs upon her arm and her muscles flinched as though shocked with electricity.

  “Solon, I no longer take privates. I'm married now and he's quite jealous,” she said, pulling her arm away.

  “Ah yes. I have heard much about Cesare Borgia. His carnage I do not understand, but his jealousy is something that I share,” he said staring at her intensely. “The sexual healing of the Blue Goddesses is legendary. I have been reawakened, and with that I realized that I need to be re-arranged,” he added, motioning up and down his uncovered chest.

  It caught Mila's eye but she quickly looked away. Mila couldn’t understand for the life of her what was going on. The longer they talked, the more she felt the need to indulge his request. What is it about him? I feel bound to his will and can’t fight it. But why? she asked herself, as Solon pulled her from the other side of the bar. He ran his hand up her spine and pulled her close.

  “You are the most powerful witch in your Order. I can see why the priest’s inner flame is so strong. Only you can help me,” he said, inching towards her lips.

  “If I help you, I want this age long quarrel between Ordo Magnum Opus and Magia Chaotica to cease. For good,” she demanded. Solon smiled, and the darkness in his eyes felt sincere to her.

  “Whatever you wish mistress.”

  She pulled back and sighed as she toyed with the idea in her mind for just a few seconds before she decided to help him. “Come with me,” she said, leading him to her suite.

  Bibi, her best friend and fellow Dakini, peeked her head out as she heard the pair of footsteps. She was shocked and nearly gave her intrusion away as she gasped at the sight of Mila with an Alchemist.

  “Holy fuck Mila!” she said, trying to ignore what she just saw. Bibi paced back and forth contemplating on saving Mila and her marriage. She’s fucking up. What is she doing? Cesare will kill her if he finds out. He hates Alchemists, she said to herself, peeking back down the hall. Nope! Stay out of it! she said to herself, closing her door and hugging a picture of her and Adonis.

  “Two things, before we begin. One, no one must know about your visit. No one. Two, no sex. Cesare will know and I love him. He can’t handle the idea of sharing and I can’t handle the idea of breaking his heart. But, I will help you in any other way that I can.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Take off your clothes. I have to find the holes in your aura,” she ordered, as she walked towards the bathroom. He folded his clothes, making sure to hide the gris-gris which was glowing even brighter.

  She filled a tub with water, crystals and oils, and told him to hop in. She undressed down to her bra and panties and sit on the side of the tub with her legs open; Solon laying between them. She watched as the water coursed through his straight, black hair like a stream through thick blades of grass. She massaged his scalp, stimulating his crown chakra; as the tingle caused him to release a soft moan.

  Her hands ran down the back of his neck and shoulders as she used her energy to illuminate his body. There were many holes in his aura, but her eyes couldn’t help but notice his impressive body. The tattoos told the story of his Alchemical mastery which was the way of Ordo Magnum Opus. His eyes closed as he relaxed his body to the gentle touch of her hands; almost hoping they would travel further south.

  “How many levels are there to master in your Order?”

  “Thirty-three.”

  “How many have you mastered?”

  “Thirty-three,” he said as he began to feel a tingle in his body. Once she felt his energy levels fall, she lit a pile of incense.

  “I feel weak,” he said as he began to sink into the water.

  “Because your aura has been weakened by many years dark magic. The crystals will pull the darkness from your aura. You will began to float once you have been cleansed,” she said, as he plummeted to the bottom of the tub. Solon could see her leaning over her him as his body sizzled.

  Black bubbles began to rise from the water as the filth of his aura began to burn away. He shouted in pain as some of the sigils upon his skin melted. Mila’s power was too much for him as he fought to get to the top. The harder he fought, the stronger the pull to the bottom.

  His mind began to travel, and he could smell the sweet scent of periwinkle. The water was completely black and his body floated to the top missing a few sigils; which he didn’t notice at first. He felt stronger, lighter, and happy. His eyes, an even brighter green than before.

  He smiled at her as she drained the tub of the negative energy.

  “Tell me how you feel Solon,” she said as tickled his chakras with her energy.

  “I have been searching for the secret of immortality for the past millennia Mila. And while it appears that the secret of the philosopher's stone is mine, my youth comes at t
he price of my soul. For you see, I have none,” he said turning to her. He placed his hands on her knees and looked into her eyes.

  “That is why you read nothing behind my eyes. The solution which Hermes Trismegistus left was missing an element, one which the House of Golden Dragons stole from him. The elixir does not stop aging, simply reverses it. I sought other ways to obtain immortality, but lost my soul in the process. It was only through the innocence of the Dactyl that I now know that my emotional centers are not dead. I must feel again Mila. To know joy, love, gratitude. None of which I have felt until this present moment. There is no point of eternity without the soul, the ability to feel love,” he said, his eyes full of tears as he ran his fingers up her thighs.

  Mila swallowed hard as her lady lips began to quiver. “Solon, my gift cannot bring back your soul.”

  “Yes you can. Because it’s in you. I feel it. And for the first time in a long time, my chakras tingle, they pulse. You have helped me to feel love again.”

  “Solon, my soul is my own and its not something I’m willing to part with. I am perhaps the wrong person to help you. The chakras vibrate according to one's spirit. The soul takes a partial role in their function. I'm not sure if it’s something I can repair permanently. Using your magic without your soul will cause your broken state to return,” she said as he pressed his lips against hers. He pulled her body close as to feel her breasts press upon his chest. She pulled back and grabbed her heart.

  “Solon, no. This is wrong.”

  “Then why does it feel so right?” he asked, kissing her again.She pushed him back and he laid in the tub with his hands behind his head.

  “Will you give me the spinal tap?”

  She stood up and hopped out of the tub, folding her arms. “That is a ritual we perform with the Order of Magia Chaotica during their initiation. It’s secret. A pact between our orders.”

  “I know dearest Mila. But it could help me to maintain this feeling.”