by N M Thorn
“Done,” said Gunz, sealing their deal with a handshake. Then he tapped his watch with his finger, asking Mishka to come out. The wyvern burst out of the watch and expanded his wings. He was back to normal—his eyes shining with the energy of fire and his wings golden once again.
“Don’t say a word, boss,” said Mishka, landing on Gunz’s shoulder. “I’m going with the Master of Power and will keep your guests entertained until you come back home.”
“Thank you, my friend,” said Gunz, gently petting wyvern’s golden wings with his fingers. He was happy to see that Mishka was alive and well, worried about what happened to the wyvern when Morena was torturing him. “I’ll see you soon.”
For a moment, Mishka wrapped his wings around Gunz’s neck and then flew over to Mrak Delar’s shoulder. Voron put his hand on Mrak’s shoulder. The Master took Karma’s elbow and snapped his fingers. All four of them vanished from the Isle, leaving Gunz alone with Kal.
Kal lowered himself down to the ground, resting his back against the stone. He didn’t say anything, just dropped his head down. Gunz sat down next to him, staring straight forward.
“You didn’t tell me,” he whispered. “Why didn’t you warn me, Kal?”
Kal didn’t reply right away. “I didn’t know,” he said after a moment. “I am sorry. I had no idea that someone would use this ancient torture on you, a modern man. I could never imagine—” Gunz didn’t interrupt him, but Kal abruptly stopped talking and turned away.
“It was… unbearable,” said Gunz quietly. “I thought I was losing my mind. The physical pain—I could deal with it. But the flashbacks, the memories I didn’t know I had… Kal, I saw my biological father dying. He was killed when I was less than two years old. And all the memories from the war, my friends being shot, blown to pieces, dying and suffering. And it wasn’t just memories. It was so real… the sounds, the smells, the pain… I was reliving it all, over and over, repeating the worst moments of my life in an infinite loop. Kal, I was praying for death and it wasn’t coming… You told me about the pain of this torture, but why didn’t you warn me about the mental anguish of it?”
Kal didn’t reply, still looking away from Gunz.
“Father! Why?” demanded Gunz louder, muscle working in his jaw.
Kal turned around and Gunz shuddered from the pained expression on his mentor’s face. Tears, liquid fire, were silently sliding from his fiery eyes.
“In your short twenty-eight years of life, you saw and suffered more than some people during the course of their full life. I am sorry, my boy,” said Kal, his voice hoarse. “That’s all I can say. You’re right. I should have told you everything. I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I was trying to protect you, spare you from the knowledge that something so awful could happen to you?”
“Father…”
“I made a mistake, and you paid for it,” continued Kal, shaking his head. “I know that the torture wouldn’t get any easier if you knew, but at least you would be ready for it.”
“I don’t know how long she tortured me—a few minutes or a few hours. But you,” said Gunz, feeling numb all over, “you suffered like this for centuries? How did you survive it?”
“I don’t know,” replied Kal with a sigh. “In the beginning I thought that any minute she would walk in and set me free. With all our differences, I loved her more than life itself. But she never came back for me. The hate took the place of love and the only thing that kept me going was the burning desire for vengeance.” Kal silenced and shook his head slightly like he was trying to get rid of those painful memories. “Anyway, this wasn’t what I wanted to talk with you about.”
“This was what I wanted to talk with you about,” said Gunz, turning away from Kal. “Promise me that you will tell me everything about being the Fire Salamander. Good and bad. Swear on your power that you will never hide anything from me, Father.”
“You have my word, son. I will never hide anything from you again. I’ll tell you everything and I’ll teach you everything I know,” said Kal rising, offering him his hand. “I swear on my power.”
“Thank you, Father.” Gunz took Kal’s hand and got up.
“Now, let’s do what needs to be done,” said Kal. Turning toward the World Tree, he waved his hand, sending some of his fire energy through it and shouted, “Alkonost! Sirin! Come back down, girls. I know you were listening.”
The rich greenery of the World Tree parted, and two giant beautiful birds with heads of young women emerged, settling on the lowest branches of the Tree. The white one sat on the day side of the Tree and the dark one took place on the evening side, the rich feathers of her electric-blue and black tail swaying in the light breeze.
“You see? I told you! The Great Salamander loves us. He even stayed behind with his son to talk to us. He’s our best friend,” said the white bird happy, her fluffy feathers surrounding her tender face in a soft white cloud.
“Sure, he loves us,” replied the dark bird. “Friendship of convenience. He needs something from us. This is why he is here.”
“Oh, come on, Sirin,” said the white bird, throwing her wings up. “Can you be positive for one minute? Look how cute they are—loving Father and Son. What can be more precious? Let’s help them.”
“Positive? Why not,” replied Sirin, snickering. “I’m all positivity. Father and Son. Father lied to his Son and his Son almost kicked the bucket because of that. What can be cuter than that?”
Kal chuckled. “Ignore them, Gunz. They are harmless if you pay no attention to their sibling rivalry. Alkonost sees only positive in everything and Sirin always picks the negative side. But if you force them to talk together, you may get to the truth of things.” He extended his hand toward the birds and whispered a spell in Dragon tongue, “Veritatius Revelare.”
The birds came closer together, Alkonost draping her snow-white wing over Sirin’s shoulder and both inclined forward slightly.
“Great Salamander,” said Alkonost and Sirin in one voice, “what would you like to know?”
“I need to know what’s coming,” said Kal. “A great evil is stirring beneath. Tell me what to expect.”
Both birds sighed, Sirin’s blue eyes filled with clear tears that were sparkling in the light of the moon like small diamonds.
“The Serpent shall rise in the world beneath on the night when death and evil runs amok the human realms freely,” sung both birds in unison.
“The veil shall shutter and fall apart, and the realm of the dead will collide with the realm of the living.
“The bloody shadow shall overcast the sun and the moon, and the world shall fall into chaos of darkness.”
The birds fell silent and both Kal and Gunz stood frozen, horrified by the terrible prophesy. After a moment Kal cleared his throat, wiping cold sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
“What can we do to stop this prophesy from becoming a reality?” he asked quietly.
“Alone you can do nothing!” exclaimed both birds at the same time, opening their wide wings. “The ancient gods of different pantheons, the Master of Power, humans, and witches and the creatures of elements must come together as a united front to overthrow this prophesy.
“Only working together as one you stand a chance of taming the Serpent, sending him back into the grave he came from. Only together may you survive the battle and claim victory.
“There will be a betrayal that no one could see. And there will be a sacrifice that no one expected.
“The price will be high… Too high for some… But it must be paid…”
The birds stopped talking and separated, Alkonost returning to the day side of the Tree and Sirin moving to the evening side. They looked at each other and without saying another word flew up and disappeared in the upper branches of the Tree.
“Kal, what the hell was that?” asked Gunz, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat. “What were they talking about? What price?”
“That was the prophesy of Skiper-Zmey
rising on Samhain,” replied Kal and pushed Gunz slightly on his shoulder. “Snap out of it, son. They didn’t say anything Veles didn’t tell us already.”
“I know,” said Gunz, “but somehow they sounded a lot more terrifying than Veles.”
“I’ve heard enough prophesies and they all sound like the end of the world is coming.” He scratched his head, messing up his flaming hair, sending a few bright sparks into the air. “Well, in this case, the end of world possibly is coming. Anyway, you can ask Mrak Delar. He had a prophesy written about him personally. And it also sounded like the end of the world. Yet he is still here.”
“The price will be high,” Gunz repeated the words of the prophesy shrugging his shoulders. “No matter how high the price will be, we have no choice but to fight this battle. We can’t let that Serpent rise and take over the world.”
“That’s right,” said Kal, chuckling. “We have a whole ten days to get ready. We should have no problem whatsoever.”
Kal waved his hand, opened his fire-portal and walked through it, pulling Gunz with him.
Chapter 22
~ Aidan ~
Still feeling the soft ping of Gwyn ap Nudd’s summoning call in his head, Aidan rushed through the dojang and quickly drew the rune on the mirror, infusing it with his power. The mirror opened up into the communication window immediately and this time Gwyn was ready, standing in front of the thin glass wall of the spell that separated them.
“Aidan, my boy,” said Gwyn ap Nudd, placing his both hands on the window.
There was something in his voice that made Aidan’s blood run cold. Immediately alert, he took in Gwyn ap Nudd’s appearance. There was no doubt, his mentor was concerned, almost to the point of fear. His sharply angled cat eyes were swirling with the white light of his magic and his black eyebrows were connected above his eyes, creating a sharp crease that was cutting through his tall forehead. His lips were slightly opened, and his chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Gwyn, are you okay?” asked Aidan, placing his palm on the window against Gwyn’s hand. “I can see that something troubles you. What did you find out?”
“Nothing good,” replied Gwyn ap Nudd, his arms dropping down. “I met with the Destiny Council and surprisingly they cooperated. They showed me their Book of Words and it was intact. However, they had no idea that something was going on in the realm of humans. Even the Destiny Keepers who visit your world all the time had no idea.”
“Well, that’s highly unusual,” mumbled Aidan. “Usually they know everything.”
“They thought someone was messing around with their communication channels. They started an investigation and asked me for assistance, but I said no,” continued Gwyn ap Nudd. “I believe I’ll be needed here more than there.”
“You’re right,” agreed Aidan. “I’ll explain everything in a minute, but first, tell me what was on that page.”
Gwyn waved his hand, and a chair materialized in front of the window. He sat down, resting his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. His long black hair fell over his eyes, but he didn’t bother brushing it off. He remained silent for a moment and then raised his face.
“Everything I feared,” replied Gwyn ap Nudd. “All the information that the Guardians had on this mage was on the page that was stolen. There could be no mistake—it’s her, because both sides of the missing page were devoted to the same person. After I read it, I had no doubt of her intentions or why she stole this page.”
“Go on,” said Aidan through his clenched teeth.
“This woman was a Guardian mage, seventh level,” continued Gwyn ap Nudd. “Not too many witches can reach this level of skill even by the end of their very long lives. And that makes her extremely dangerous. She is over a hundred years old. She’s knowledgeable and experienced in many different branches of magic, including the forbidden branches like necromancy, conjuration and maleficium.”
“Goddamnit,” cursed Aidan, raking his fingers through his hair. “Are you saying that we’re dealing with a master of Dark Arts?”
“You got it.”
“I thought the Guardians were the good guys,” said Aidan. “How did they tolerate such a high-ranking member doing such illegal things.”
“They didn’t. She was playing her dirty games for a while. But you know how it is. You can’t hide your true nature forever,” explained Gwyn ap Nudd. “One day, she was caught with a group of followers, doing some kind of blood-sacrifice ritual. The Guardians were able to block her magic and confine her to their dungeons where she was supposed to remain, awaiting the Destiny Council trial.”
Gwyn grimaced, like the words ‘Destiny Council Trial’ were giving him a bad taste in his mouth.
“Let me guess,” said Aidan. Suddenly feeling worn out, he sat down on the mats in front of the window. “The trial never happened.”
“Good guess,” replied Gwyn ap Nudd. “Some young witch who was never suspected in practicing Dark Arts, helped her escape. Her name wasn’t mentioned in the Book of Words. Anyway, she disappeared, and no one has heard of her until now.”
“Needless to say, Zvereva is not her true name,” murmured Aidan, more to himself than to his mentor.
Gwyn ap Nudd arched his eyebrows. “Was there ever a doubt?” He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “Her real name is Valeria Demidova.”
“Dammit!” Aidan slammed his hand on the soft mat. “That’s the name Mrak Delar mentioned. He said something about Countess Demidova being the guardian of the Axe of Perun. I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand because you don’t know everything yet,” explained Gwyn ap Nudd. “Valeria Demidova was the only daughter of Countess Demidova of whom Mrak Delar was speaking. Come closer, Aidan. There is something you need to see.”
Aidan got up and approached the window. Silently he watched Gwyn ap Nudd disappearing into the darkness for a moment. He returned a few seconds later and held out his hand. A crystal orb was resting in the palm of his hand. The orb was filled with silvery liquid that resembled mercury. Gwyn touched the orb and whispered a short spell. The silvery liquid inside the orb swirled around and then stilled, creating a smooth reflective surface.
“Now watch,” whispered Gwyn ap Nudd and touched the orb again, sending a small amount of his magic through it.
The surface inside the orb lit up with a soft silvery light and an image of a semi-dark room materialized before their eyes. An old woman was lying on a narrow bed. Her weather-beaten face was crossed by a web of wrinkles. Her eyes, surrounded by dark circles, looked too large for her face. Her thin gray hair was scattered in limp strands around her face. With her sunken cheeks and colorless lips, she looked like she was half way through the veil already.
A young woman was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the old woman’s skinny hand in hers. She leaned forward and gently removed a loose strand of hair off her face.
“Mama, why don’t you allow me to heal you?” asked the young woman, true concern ringing in her voice.
“There is no more healing for me, Valeria. It’s my time to go,” replied the old woman, hardly moving her lips. She turned away from her daughter and sighed.
“Why, Mama? You know that I can do it. I can heal you,” objected Valeria. “I have the power!”
The dying woman turned her head to her daughter and revulsion mixed in with deep disappointment reflected in her pale eyes.
“Don’t you dare touch me with your—,” she started to say, but a heavy cough rattled her chest and she had to stop. The coughing fit left her weaker and more exhausted than she was before. She slowly picked up a handkerchief, wiped a thin pink layer off her lips and continued, now her voice almost a whisper, “Do not touch me with your healing. Even when you’re not wielding your dark magic, I can feel its presence within you. I can see the darkness within your soul, coiling like a serpent…”
“What are you talking about, Mama?” said the young woman, her finge
rs forming a fist. “I’m a good witch. My magic is strong—”
“You gave in to the darkness and now there is no way back.” The old woman pulled her hand away from her daughter’s grip. Her hand slowly traveled to her chest, her fingers moving up and down like she was searching for something.
“Mama, I don’t know what darkness you see in me. If you don’t want me to heal you, I understand,” said the young woman quietly. “At least allow me to fulfill my duty to you and to the Guardians.”
“Do not lie to yourself, child,” wheezed the old woman, breathing laboriously. “Once the darkness takes hold of one’s soul, there is no way to expel it. You can lie to yourself all you want. You can even deceit others with magic. But the truth is still there, no matter how much you try concealing it. I do not trust you and will not give it to you. You are not worthy…”
The last few words she pronounced slowly and clearly, with added strength in her trembling voice. The young woman rose, her face hardened, her expression changing from concern to icy arrogance.
“You’re dying, Mother,” she seethed. “Who is going to protect the pendant after you’re dead? Give it to me! I will keep it safe!”
“The darkness will never have it…”
“You’re crazy! Delusional! There is no darkness! Give it to me at once!” yelled Valeria, her eyes glowing with the poisonous yellow energy of her dark magic.
The old woman gasped, raising her shaking hand up like she was trying to shield herself from her daughter’s malignant gaze.
“It’s no longer in my possession,” she whispered. “Someone who’s a lot more powerful than you is guarding it now. I trust that he’ll protect it from the darkness and the likes of you, Valeria.”
Valeria seized her dying mother’s shirt, almost lifting her off her bed. “Who is he?” she shouted, her face just inches away from her mother’s.
“You’ll never know… I’ll die before I tell you anything.”
