by Hanna Peach
She slips up under the exit and onto the roof of the Elder-dome. She moves along, keeping low to the thatching, aiming for the cluster of trees closest to the roof’s edge. She slides into the cover of a nearby branch. From there she makes her way back to her pod through the thick canopy, her heart still drumming in her chest.
The AirWhisperer
First level magic.
The AirWhisperer is able to manipulate and control the element of air.
AirWhisperer can be impossible to use if your technique of control is not perfected. But take comfort lightwarrior, once the technique is learned the Air is easy to manipulate. Once drawn into the palm the model lightwarrior must immediately whip the energy into a controlled hurricane to avoid the dissipation of the Air. From there the magic can be directed.
By sending out a wall of Air and pulling it back, the AirWhisperer can ‘feel’ the dimensions of the space that the Air is able to move around in. For example, Air magic can be sent into a demon den and pulled back to get a three-dimensional ‘picture’ of the den including the layout of the rooms, the shape of the furniture and the number of demons within. Take note: this form of Air magic is not discreet and may be sensed by the creatures that it comes into contact with.
AirWhisperers can also sense any impeding weather changes.
The Lightwarrior’s Protocol
Chapter 32
“Did you think you wouldn’t get caught?”
Alyx blinks. She is suspended in a sea of black, Symon floating in front of her. They are in a white dimensionless room, a DreamScape but Symon hasn’t bothered to fill it out with a scene.
This isn’t good.
“Symon? What’s going on?”
“They’re saying you broke into Michael’s chambers. A familia confirms that he saw you sneaking out of the Elder-dome.” Symon searches her eyes. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
Alyx bites her lip. “If you know me then you should know that what I did, I did for good reason.”
“Alyx.” Symon’s face falls. “I raised you better than this.”
No, be angry at me, yell at me, but don’t be disappointed.
Symon speaks again, “Give me one good reason why you needed to steal the amulet piece.”
Steal? “What? But I didn’t steal anything.”
“You just admitted to entering Elder Michael’s chambers.”
“I did. But I didn’t take anything. Symon I swear.”
“Stop lying to me, Alyx. Do you know how is serious this is?”
“I swear I didn’t take anything.” Alyx grabs Symon’s arms. “Tell me you believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Yes it does. It matters to me. Tell me you believe me.”
Symon’s voice drops. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Alyx’s hands fall to her sides. “No.”
“You have to leave. They’re coming for you.” Symon’s voice falters, “After you leave we must forget that we are family.”
“You don’t mean that.”
His face looks pained. Alyx throws herself at him, her face burying in his chest. He crushes her to him.
“I’m sorry Alyx. I have my orders.”
His words hurt her as if he has pierced her through the heart. She knows what he is saying. If he is the one to find her he will bring her in. If he has to hurt her to do it, he will.
“Go,” he whispers. “Angelspeed.” His lips brush the top of her forehead. Light as a feather.
Her fingers grasp at mist.
Alyx’s eyes fly open. She launches out of bed, fingers on the kris from under her pillow. She snatches the ring from her hollow, grabs her jacket. Just as there is a clanking of the blade-chime at her window, a curse under breath, a noise from outside her door.
They are here for her.
Alyx glances at her others weapons. No time. She kicks her foot out at her mobile, a blade sinks into the soft belly flesh of the lightwarrior crouched at her sill. He cries out in pain. Alyx kicks again at the source of the noise, this time her foot impacts against his body. He topples from the sill with a yell, tearing the wind-chime down with him.
Alyx flies out her window and into the night air.
On the ground the lightwarrior is pulling the blades from his body and calling for his partner. Alyx wastes no time. She flies down the slope of the mountain, towards the training fields and away from the city buildings.
As Alyx reaches the fields she can hear the lightwarriors coming after her, yelling for backup. They are too close behind her. She won’t make the wards without alerting the patrole guards and being surrounded. What now?
The moon glints off the Great Lake like a message. Alyx aims for the lake.
Alyx draws at the magic from her hidden AirWhisperer tattoo. She pulls it into her palm and flicks her wrist to start the whirl of air. But she’s panicking and too much of it dissipates. She tries again. Calm. Must remain calm.
This time enough of the Air magic is centered in her palm. She shoots out the rush of Air through the trees in front of her. It shifts and rustles branches and leaves as it travels forward. She hopes it will be enough to cause her pursuers to believe that she kept going through the forest.
Alyx draws WaterBearer into her palm keeping her movements soft, gentle. She dives towards the lake, making a sweeping motion with her palm. The surface of the lake parts. Alyx slips into the space below, allowing the water to close around and above her without a splash, like a sliding trapdoor.
Underwater Alyx stills her breath. She is only aware of the sound of her heartbeat, her ears straining to hear any muffled noises from above. She propels down towards the training maze she knows so well. And hopes that her little trick has worked.
The WaterBearer
First level magic.
The WaterBearer is able to manipulate and control the element of water. WaterBearer bloodink needs to be controlled with a light and smooth touch so as not to break the delicate ‘skin’ of the magic.
WaterBearers can also ‘feel’ the dimensions of water bodies and the movements or pressures within it such as wildlife or boats, within a limited area. This area can be increased with practice.
The Lightwarrior’s Protocol
Chapter 33
The knock on his door thunders like an enemy cannon. Mayrekk jolts, looks up from his mortal book. Who would be visiting him at this late hour? His blinds are drawn so he can’t see who it is through his windows. Mayrekk hides the book in a nearby drawer and walks towards the door. It hammers again.
“I’m comin’,” he calls. If there is no one there and this is some stupid dare by them silly Castus kids again he’ll skin them. He flings open the door and his fierce mask falters. “Elder Michael. Elder Gabriel. Elder Uriel. What a surprise.”
Behind the three most powerful Seraphim Elders stand a pack of Elderguards, solemn like stone soldiers.
“May we come in,” asks Gabriel.
“Yer won’t all fit, sir,” Mayrekk says, trying to keep his tone light.
“The guards will wait outside.”
Michael doesn’t wait for a response. He pushes his way past Mayrekk and heads through the shelves to the space at the back of his hut, Gabriel and Uriel behind him. Mayrekk closes the door and follows the three Elders.
It is Gabriel who speaks first, “Mayrekk, we need your help.”
“Sir?”
“There has been the direst of breaches. Something was taken, something very important, was taken from Michael’s chambers.”
“And you think I did it sir?”
Michael cut in, “Stop playing dumb Mayrekk and just tell us where the girl is.”
Mayrekk stares back and forth between the three Elders. “Girl?”
Michael hits the table with his fist, the instruments on it reverberating. “The girl dammit.”
“Michael, best not get carried away,” says Uriel.
“Trust me, he knows something about her.” Micha
el narrows his eyes at Mayrekk. “Don’t you?”
“No, Elder. I don’t know what yer talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Michael turns to the other two Elders. “He was instrumental in the Raphael issue―.”
“That was never proven,” Mayrekk interjects.
“―and he will be instrumental in this current issue.”
Elder Gabriel speaks, “Mayrekk, a piece of the Trinity Amulet has been taken. This is beyond serious. You must tell us what you know.”
“Honestly Elder, I don’t know nothin’.”
Michael turns to Gabriel. “You could never do what was necessary to keep our society together. I can. Give me ten minutes alone with him. You can both stand outside and pretend to not know what is going on.”
“Perhaps,” says Uriel, “that would be going too far?”
“And what happens then when this Alyxandria hands the Amulet to the Darkened? What happens when the power shifts to them? If we act now and act swiftly we can find her and stop her.”
“Fine,” Uriel says. “Come Gabriel.”
Elder Gabriel doesn’t move. Michael and Gabriel stare at each other.
Please don’t leave, Mayrekk pleads silently.
Finally, Gabriel nods, just once. Without looking again at Mayrekk the two Elders turn and move solemnly to the door.
Leaving Mayrekk alone with Michael.
A slow crawling smile is stretching across Michael’s cold carved face. The smile chills Mayrekk more than the hate in his eyes.
“Are you going to disappoint me Mayrekk?”
“I hope not Elder.”
“Good. Tell me... where has she gone?”
“She?”
“Alyxandria.”
“Is Alyx missin’?”
“Don’t play games with me.”
“Honestly Elder, I don’t know where Alyx is.”
Michael considers Mayrekk for one long excruciating moment. Michael takes one precise step towards him.
“We have something in common you and I.” With a flick of a wrist Michael now holds a kris in his right hand.
“Elder?”
“I also fancy myself a kind of scientist.” Michael waves the kris to indicate the devices about the room. “Oh yes, a scientist.” Michael brings the kris up in front of him and fingers the point with his other hand. “Did you know that the average adult human body holds around five liters of blood?”
Mayrekk shakes his head and shuffles back as Michael continues his languid approach towards him.
“This means that we also hold five liters of blood in our bodies.”
“Interestin’ fact that.” Mayrekk knows his voice is shaking. But he has to stay strong. Everything depends on him staying strong. Stay strong. For her.
“Do you know,” Michael says, stroking the gleaming blade of his kris with one finger, “how much blood you would have to lose before you died, Mayrekk?”
“No, Elder.”
“Of course your body goes through many painful stages before death from blood loss.”
Mayrekk swallows hard as he hits the bench behind him. Nowhere left to go.
“We are lucky aren’t we Mayrekk.” Michael takes another step, the gap between then closing.
“Sir?”
“We are lucky in that we, unlike mortals, heal very quickly from most wounds.”
“Lucky that.”
“So for someone, like you for example,” Michael smiles, “to sustain such a significant blood loss you would have to be cut many, many times, wouldn’t you say?”
“Aye.” Mayrekk’s voice quivers. But he will not break down. He can’t break down. Everything depends on this.
“Mark my words Mayrekk, before I am through with you, you will tell me what you know.”
Michael closes the gap between them.
Chapter 34
The training maze is like an underwater castle made of coral and rock. Inside the maze, corridors and levels twist and turn in a confusing mess, leading back into itself, or into rooms or dead ends. In sections of the maze the seaweed has been left to grow long and wild like a jumble of arms. In other sections shards of mirror-coral reflect a million mazes. In a room deep in the belly of the maze, cages of electric eels are kept.
Alyx finds the section of maze where large conch shells have been discarded by giant hermit crabs. She half-buries herself into the sand below, and pulls a large shell over her head. Here she waits.
What happened? How did she get here? Even if she gets out of Michaelea without being caught, where will she go?
Her mind flashes to the seraphelles who work at the night races. She imagines herself being dressed by the RaceKeeper and being put out on show. She shudders. Never. There must be another way.
Israel. She could find Israel. Then what? What will they do? How will she protect him? She is only one Seraphim against the Darkened?
She needs to expose Elder Michael’s secret army. She needs to warn the other Seraphim. But who is on Michael’s side? And what would she say? She had no proof. Turn against the Elders? Was she crazy? No one would believe her. Like Raphael all those years ago.
Raphael. Alyx feels a pang of empathy for the Oracle who lived and died almost two thousand years ago. He decided to speak up and was persecuted for it.
Symon was right. It is easier to pretend you don’t know.
But Alyx can’t pretend to be ignorant, even if she wanted to. She can’t go back. If she makes it out of Michaelea she may never be able to return.
Alyx rubs her face then pulls the shell tighter to her. It’s hopeless. She starts to feel her sanity crumbling apart. No, just keep it together long enough to get out of here. Then worry about what is next.
Alyx has now been underwater for several hours. She hasn’t dared to move from her hiding place. So far they have not searched the lake for her. She wonders if they know she is still within the wards.
Her plan was to wait until the final hour before dawn, the hour after all the patrole units have returned, when the ward guards are at the end of their shift and are tired. This would be her greatest chance at getting out.
This is now the hour.
Alyx moves cautiously to the surface of the lake. Here the reeds are thick. They slow her movements but it means that she will remain hidden as she wades waist-deep through the water.
Alyx hears movement. A rustling nearby. Too large to be animal. Her heart rate starts to climb and she feels her senses pull everything into a sharper focus. Silently she slips back underwater until only the top of her head is above the surface.
Peering through the reeds Alyx watches as a hooded figure appears, floating along the trees around the edge of the lake. She can’t see who it is, even as the figure passes meters from where she hides.
Soon the figure is swallowed by the darkness of the woods beyond. Alyx stays in the water while she lets her heart rate slow.
Hearing no other sound, Alyx slips out of the water. She flies low to the ground towards the edge of Michaelea and the beginning of the rest of the world.
Chapter 35
Apart from the strain of constantly curling his wings against the suit of human flesh Samyara quite enjoys his mortal host. Over a fit and youthful body, despite being well into its fortieth year, Samyara wears a double-breasted cream suit, pressed and starched, which looks delicious against his cocoa skin. His host has a dark handsome moustache which Samyara has kept trimmed.
Samyara whistles as he strolls down this empty suburban street tonight. He stops at the borderline of number 11 and number 15, looks up and down to make sure he is not being watched, then slips through the crack in time/space that is number 13.
Samyara always enjoys coming to Purgatory. It is the one place on this wretched planet that he feels comfortable going to without a slew of Darkened guards around him. Even a demon lord needs me-time.
Loki the bartender, part-owner, part-demon, greets him with a small nod. The other patrons, even if they notice him, le
ave him alone. Samyara moves through the bar to the very back of the room, to the red velvet curtain, behind which is the door that leads to Upstairs.
Lady Bluesette, part owner, all-demon, and mistress of Upstairs is sitting behind the obsidian reception desk in her oversized, high-backed armchair. Samyara greets her with a kiss on the back of her hand.
“Samyara,” she purrs. “It’s good to see you again. How may we pleasure you tonight?”
There hasn’t been a single request that Samyara has made yet that Lady Bluesette has flinched at. At first Samyara made a little game out of seeing whether he could cause her to blush by asking for more… exotic treatments. But after a particularly messy evening after which Samyara himself felt a sliver of disgust at his own behavior, he stopped trying to shock Lady Bluesette. There is obviously very little that she hasn’t seen.
Samyara checks his pocket watch, an antique Jules Jorgenson. His visitor won’t be here for another half an hour. He wouldn’t mind passing the time in an enjoyable way.
Samyara makes his request. Lady Bluesette nods, and leads him down the corridor, white and black flocked-velvet wallpaper, royal blue carpet that his crocodile-skin shoes sink into.
In his favorite room Samyara lounges in a crimson chair. Against one wall is a large black four poster bed covered in a plush of black and scarlet pillows. The ceiling soars well above him. Three large cages, several beastly chains and two thick silk ribbons drop down like strange fountains. Along one wall is a rack full of bone-scythes, various shaped fangs and claws set into handles, whips made from demon-tails and weaved seraphim-hair. In a corner is a thick wooden stock with space for two heads and more chains. One could never have enough chains.
The door opens and the seraphelle named Chastity floats in. She closes the door behind her and greets Samyara. Face like an African queen, black hair curling around her head in a dark halo, she wears a long white gown with golden cords that wrap around her breasts in an X.
