Forged Immortals - A Prequel

by A. C. Nicholls

  Before I could protest, Victor reached out and touched it.

  “Don’t!”

  The room flashed a blinding purple light. I closed my eyes, raising a protective arm in front of them. A deafening sound rang out, like thunder closing in on us. By the time I could see again, Victor was upside-down, being tossed around by a cloud of purple smoke.

  “Victor!”

  His hand reached out to me, and I reached to grab it. Our skin had barely touched before he was yanked away from me, shooting to the nearby wall with such a force that I heard his back slam against the bricks. The wind howled around us, blowing our hair and clothes all over the place. I shivered in terror as I watched the shocking scene unfold, just like in a high-budget action movie.

  “Do somethi–” Victor cried, before being hurled – or rather, dragged – back across the room by his swirling storm of torment.

  Enough was enough. I spun on my heel and ran back down the stairs. Every time I saw a door, I pounded on it before continuing to run. Every time I came into a new hallway, I screamed at the top of my lungs. I needed someone’s attention. Anyone’s attention, before my new friend got swallowed up by whatever the hell had him by the jugular.

  I was lost, the halls unfamiliar to me. If we’d come this way, I hadn’t been paying enough attention. I began to panic, my heart racing and my breath getting caught in my throat. I was about to give up hope, when a pair of hands settled on my shoulders.

  “What is it, Lady Keira?”

  My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I saw Francis in front of me. I’d never been so glad to see a person in my entire life. “It’s Victor. He touched something on a wall, and this… this card – it took him.”

  “Calm down. Tell me where he is.”

  “I-I don’t know!” Somehow, I had lost my way. The Vault was a goddamn maze of castle-like walls, each hallway and staircase looked the same as the last. All I could do was spit out whatever details I could. “Smoke, there was… purple smoke.”

  Francis’s eyes widened, and I saw a look I’d not seen from him until now.

  Anger.

  In the blink of an eye, he turned and ran into the distance, robe flitting around behind him like a kite on a windy day. I followed, doing my best to keep up, but he raced ahead as if the fires of hell nipped at his heels. I began to realize my mortality, and I would have lost him, had I not seen him enter the spiraling staircase that Victor and I had ascended.

  I followed in hot pursuit, dashing up the stairs two at a time. By the time we reached the top, I reared back in shock. Victor stood completely still. The magicard that had assaulted him was back in its rightful place, and the bricks were swallowing it once more.

  “It is forbidden for you to be here!” Francis yelled, his face reddening. “When I tell you that you shouldn’t roam the halls, I say so for your own safety, not to mention the safety of those around you.” He glared at me, the whites of his eyes showing brighter than before. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Along with concern for Victor, guilt laced my emotions. And to top it all off, confusion about what had happened in this room during my absence. Had Victor dealt with it by himself? It seemed so, but then, why did he look different? I couldn’t quite peg the contrast, but his eyes seemed somewhat… darker. Like he’d been hollowed out, and now only his shell stood before us.

  “It was my fault,” he finally said. “Keira told me not to, but I explored anyway. She was just trying to stop me. I apologize.” With that, he stormed past us and left the room, leaving Francis and me staring at each other with blank expressions.

  “What was that thing?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Francis sighed. “This is the Dark Room. It’s where we keep the more powerful magicards – the ones even I struggle to control.” He went over and touched the purple glyph, making it flash once more, before turning dormant.

  “And Victor? He couldn’t handle it?”

  Silence.

  “Francis?”

  His head snapped around, locking eyes with me. “This was the Chaos card. Only one person has ever been able to wield it fully, and that person is no longer among us. This thing is more powerful than you could ever imagine.”

  My mouth went dry. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it refused to go down.

  “Return to your quarters, Lady Keira. Tomorrow is a big day.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I flew out of there like a shot, desperate to put some distance between me and the magic that had turned Victor on his head. Whatever that thing had done to him, I didn’t want it happening to me.

  After much confusion in retracing my steps, I returned to the room. Jasper was still snoring when I entered, and Victor lay silently in bed. I wanted to talk to him, to ask what had happened to him, but somehow I didn’t think I would get an answer. Somehow, he seemed too different.

  Something had changed.

  Chapter 5

  I woke up feeling stronger. Where aches usually riddled my body, I felt fit as a horse. I was light and agile. My bruises from the basketball court seemed to have healed, and the pain had abated. Even walking bare-footed on the cobblestone floor did nothing for my discomfort; texture or temperature.

  I hurried downstairs to the Grand Hall, where Francis stood waiting for me, with Victor and Jasper lingering impatiently at his sides.

  “What is it?” he asked. He seemed kind once again, as if last night hadn’t happened.

  “My hands,” I said, clenching a fist and then letting it go. “I feel so strong.”

  Francis grinned. “I wouldn’t worry about that. You made the commitment. You walked among the flames. For as long as you plan to train with us – as long as you stay with us, guarding and using the magicards – you will only grow stronger.”

  “You’re serious?”

  He nodded. “Today you’ve a spring in your step. Tomorrow you’ll be crushing rocks in your bare hands. Enjoy it, Lady Keira. But pray, do not take advantage.”

  Amazed, excited, and no longer scared, I examined my hands. If this was really happening, I could see myself putting the power to good use by teaching a bully or two a valuable lesson. Not that I wanted to hurt anyone, but if my next fight was a little more evenly matched, I wouldn’t complain.

  Francis led us downstairs into a cellar. During the short walk, I tried to talk to Victor, but I couldn’t get much from him. Where he’d so far been full of information and conversation, now he only came across as cold-hearted and dull.

  It was a shame – he had been so interesting.

  Over the next couple of hours, we watched Francis controlling objects with his mind. Nothing will ever rival the amazement I felt when I first saw that happen. The only thing that came close was when he announced we’d be trying it ourselves.

  I looked at my hands again. Surely, no matter how strong they were, I wasn’t capable of telekinesis? Okay, so I’d seen some wonders during my first day at the Vault, but who could possibly have imagined I would actually be learning magic?

  We were separated and taught individually. Jasper went first, but he couldn’t quite get a handle on it. The rock he had chosen as his training dummy failed to budge. Francis said that he could try again later, and then it was my turn. I chose a leather ball – equal size to a tennis ball – and set it in front of me.

  “Clear your mind,” he told me in his most soothing voice. “Don’t try to make it move. Befriend it. Surrender yourself to it, and then ask it to move. But most importantly, when you feel your soul begin to merge with the mage in your magicard, don’t fight it. It’s the initial bonding, and it needs to happen smoothly.”

  I closed my eyes and expected it. When it came, a tingle shot through me and I felt my mood alter. It felt surreal, personal. Like someone was digging into my memories and watching all of my most embarrassing moments. God knew there were plenty of them.

  The tingling sensation stopped. I opened my eyes and focused on
the ball. When it began to move, I felt a little stir of joy inside me. I had made a ball move with my mind! Next, I would try to lift it, but it didn’t come just yet.

  After my failed attempt, Victor had his shot at it. As with mine, he managed to make it move, but had no luck in raising the thing off the ground. This was a process, Francis explained to us, and it would require a lot of practice over a number of weeks. Apparently, it wasn’t the telekinesis that required so much getting used to, but the general use of a magicard needed to be our second nature.

  I couldn’t help but think; if all magic came this easily, I was in for a hell of a ride.

  After only three weeks, I mastered the skill. By now my soul had surrendered completely to the mage in my card. I didn’t mind. We seemed to have an unspoken understanding. It kept its distance from my thoughts and I didn’t take it for granted.

  Good deal.

  Jasper struggled to learn anything. Whatever he did, he simply couldn’t get the ball to move. It eventually vexed Francis to a point that he stripped him of his magicard, and began to teach him the art of portal construction instead. Much to Francis’s relief, Jasper picked up the new skill almost instantly. It was fascinating to see him create a doorway back to places I’d only dreamt about; the pyramids in Egypt, the streets of London, and even Fort Knox. Though I wouldn’t dare step foot in the latter.

  We were all learning, living, loving, and beginning to understand how to respect magic.

  It was a shame that had to end.

  Victor was getting too good. It all came to a horrifying end on that Tuesday afternoon, when we were back at practice in the cellar. He’d been asked to move a set of darts, and had succeeded in pinning them into the far wall. It was scary watching him hit multiple bull’s-eyes. Each time he used his magic to launch one across the room, he grunted a little louder, threw them a little harder. I should have seen it coming.

  The last one whistled through the air, finding its target in the wall. His hands empty, he focused on multiple objects around the room, throwing them as far as he could without even touching them. Before I knew it, there were bricks, tools and balls spiraling around us in an archaic dance. When one of those bricks hit a beam, I knew we were in trouble.

  “Stop right now!” Francis told him.

  But Victor ignored him.

  “I said stop!”

  Victor turned, his eyes deader than ever, and launched Francis across the room. His back hit the beam, and I saw it splinter as his weight collided with it. His body dropped to the floor, and as bricks began to tumble on top of him, I used my own power to quickly slide him to safety.

  By now, Victor teetered somewhere between showing off and demonstrating his potential. The objects continued to swirl around the room, picking up speed now, with more items joining the storm. We had to get out of there, and fast.

  Francis climbed to his feet, grabbed Jasper and me by the arms, pulling us to the room outside. I could hear bricks begin to crumble, and the beam cracked as it finally gave way. Rocks and debris poured into the cellar like water, crashing to the ground and bringing down more of the ceiling with it.

  Finally, Victor seemed to see the madness in his actions. I was just about to go back to pull him away from the danger, when he turned and ran back toward us, stopping at my side. Together, the four of us watched the ceiling collapse, and the cellar explode into a ball of dust and rubble.

  Not a single one of us spoke, but I could hear Jasper’s frantic, fearful breathing. I studied Victor, desperate to learn what had made him so insanely immature and aggressive. I had only known him as the charming one, the one who sometimes put a foot out of line but did so with such likeable rebellion. I hadn’t seen this coming.

  I turned, sweeping a quick glance over Francis, only to see the hate in his eyes. He stared at Victor, blood rushing to his face. Then I saw his hands, which were balled into fists, trembling under the furious pressure as he squeezed them.

  It was then that I knew for sure.

  Victor was in big trouble.

  Chapter 6

  Many days passed after Victor’s incarceration. Jasper and I spent those days practicing magic, but my heart was no longer in it. I was too focused on my friend, wondering what had led him to such careless extremes, and what would become of him.

  Whenever I asked Francis what the Elders’ plans were, he would always say the same thing: “He is in the hands of fate now.” Each time he said it, he did so with less and less emotion. I worried over the distinct lack of empathy that Francis gave the situation.

  Jasper became efficient with his portals, as I did with my telekinesis. According to Francis, it wouldn’t be long before we were out in the field, using our magic on a mission. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I was willing to try. After all, it was hard to deny how cool it was that I was learning magic for some secret organization.

  All the while, my concern for Victor grew and grew, but when the sun set on my fiftieth day of training, a thought occurred to me.

  I could seek him out myself.

  On reflection, it wasn’t the best idea, but I couldn’t have known that at the time. My days in training seemed bare without him, and our sleeping quarters were now filled only with Jasper’s snoring and his constant questions about Victor’s wellbeing. Of course, I didn’t have any answers, but I soon would.

  The holding cells, as I’d discovered through a process of elimination, were in the east wing. As I made my way there, I marveled again at the maze of corridors, and how the mystical veil had made the Vault look like a mere tower from the outside.

  Impressive.

  Taking it slow and timing my footfalls so as not to alert the robed guards (these wore red sashes, and I was coming to understand that they bore some significance to one’s role), I made my way down to the dungeon, where I found Victor in his cell.

  When I saw him, I gasped.

  His skin was ghostly white, his thinning hair matted to his forehead with sweat. The rags he wore were moth-eaten and frayed, giving him the look of a long-forgotten prisoner.

  Because he was.

  “Victor,” I whispered.

  Victor raised his head and looked at me with almost no recognition. It wasn’t until he spoke that I knew he hadn’t forgotten me. “Oh. You.”

  I approached the iron bars, wrapped my hands around them and leaned my face between them. Something smelt sour, stale. “What happened to you? Why are they treating you like this?” I sniffed at the air, and discovered that the rotting smell was him.

  “Not… traitor,” he said, lifting his frail hands to attempt a shrug. “They say I tried to kill them, when… when…”

  “When you tried to bring down the cellar.”

  “Yes.” He nodded weakly. “Accident.”

  I watched him in silence. I knew he hadn’t meant to collapse the ceiling. Victor had claimed it was an accident, and having been there, I couldn’t help but agree. Had he deliberately caused havoc? Of course he had, but I didn’t believe for a second that he meant us any harm. How could he, after befriending us all?

  Victor rolled his head to one side, looking up at me with his gaunt face, his eyes black hollows where a shine used to offer charm and intrigue. “Get me out of here.”

  “Already considered it, friend.” God, I was starting to talk like Francis.

  “Please.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Tell me why I would do that.”

  “They… They plan to execute me.”

  The five simple words made me shudder. “Are you serious?”

  Victor nodded, his head drooping like a wet towel.

  “What will you do?”

  “I… don’t know. They made me mortal again. I feel weak, Keira.” It was the first time I had heard him call me by name. My knees wobbled as I leaned in closer, gripping the bars to support my weak limbs. “I want out. Want to run and continue my life. Maybe build a…”

  “A family, yes,” I said, finishing his sentence to spare
him the trouble. I could see that he struggled to speak. I eyed the lock, then flicked my head around my shoulder, gawking up at the only doorway. I could get in a lot of trouble for what I was about to do.

  But – morals be damned – I didn’t have a choice.

  I dropped to my knee and studied the lock, a big, chunky iron thing that needed a sizeable key. There was no way I was getting it from a guard, so I had to improvise. I had to use the magic I’d worked so hard to learn.

  Focusing all of my willpower on the lock, I strained, tried to become friends with it as Francis had taught me. For a moment it looked like it wasn’t going to budge, but then it fell open on command, and dropped to the stone floor with a clunk.

  “Let’s get you out of here.”

  I opened the gate and rushed to Victor’s side, heaving him onto my shoulder. Thanking this immortal strength, I carried him up the stairs, his sagging body only becoming a problem every half a minute or so. The path to the front door looked clear. We were making our escape and all looked hopeful.

  Until we were caught.

  “What are you up to?” Jasper hissed. He looked awkward, legs trembling, his eyes darting from me to Victor and then back again. “You’re breaking him out, aren’t you? You know I have to tell Francis about this, right?”

  Just as he began to move, I caught his arm. “Don’t do it, Jasper.”

  “I have to.”

  “You don’t,” I snapped. “I’m getting Victor out of here before they execute him. Do you really want that blood on your hands? Do you really think you can go to bed each night knowing that you sentenced your own friend to his death?”

  Jasper froze, studying Victor as he hung limp in my arms.

  “I need you, Jasper. I need your portal.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “He’s going to die, you idiot!” I screamed as my temper exploded, raining words down like bullets, knowing that anybody could come around the corner at any moment. I wouldn’t even know how to explain myself. “Please, I’m asking you as a friend; help me get him out of here.”