by Robert York
My life didn’t start out well as many of you may have guessed. I never knew my mother or my father. My mother sadly died in childbirth due to complications or so I’m told. My father disappeared a few months before I was born. I guess he wasn’t ready to be a father. To this day no one knows or won’t tell me exactly what happened to him. Sometimes I feel that’s a good thing. Why have anger issues about events that you have absolutely no control over. I lived at Sister Marianna’s orphanage from almost the day that I was born till around the age of fourteen when my magic started to manifest. Barnabas seemed to always be at the orphanage keeping time as they say with Sister Marianna. When he discovered that I possessed abilities like him, he took an interest in me, eventually adopting me as his son. He made me feel normal - despite my powers - and welcome in his home. I always thought of myself as a freak until he showed me the other world that existed alongside the world of Normals. I smiled a trusting smile leveling my eyes meeting his without fear or trepidation.
“OK,” I said relaxing on my stool.
Placing the empty soft drink cup next to me on the counter.
“Tell me only what you feel is necessary for me to know.”
He returned the smile inclining his head once.
“You were always a smart young man. Today’s events notwithstanding.”
“Ha. Ha. I had them on the ropes till you walked in and took all the credit.”
“Indeed,” His smile wavered.
He paced the shop pensively, facing me after ordering his thoughts.
“Are you familiar with the history of King Arthur,” He continued turning back to face me, waving his hand toward the mural once again.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I know the basics of the legend.”
“Legend,” Barnabas scoffed incredulously. “Far from it, the history of King Arthur is very real my boy,” he said emphasizing the word “history”.
Barnabas turned walking over to Oswald, who sat on a high stool at the other end of the counter. Barnabas settled next to him, leaning on the counter nodding to him encouragingly. Oswald glanced reluctantly from side to side before placing his right hand palm down on the counter. As I watched, a dim orange light appeared under his hand, growing incrementally in intensity. I heard the sounds of wood rubbing against wood creaking, popping and snapping. I watched the wood that formed the top of the counter bend and fold itself into the shape of a mahogany box six inches high and twelve inches square. Oswald removed his hand from the box.
The box itself was unremarkable, just an ordinary wooden box. The decorations that adorned it however were far from ordinary. On top of the lid, a coat of arms roughly six inches by three inches was emblazoned in the center. The “heater” shaped shield was a deep metallic blue in color. On it were three ornate crowns stacked vertically inlaid with metal that I presumed to be gold. Directly behind the coat of arms positioned vertically rested an accurate reproduction of a magnificent Celtic style sword with a crusader handle. Barnabas placed a hand on the box fixing his eyes on me. I moved closer to get a better look, as an afterthought I lifted Tilly placing him on a stool because of his height disadvantage. He had every right to check out whatever was in that box just like the rest if us.
“Within this box rests a relic of King Arthur that Oswald and I were charged with protecting.” He paused.
Turning his gaze to the box, giving just the slightest of smiles. A smile a little boy might flash gazing at a prized possession his beloved sports hero may have owned.
“The Order of the Octagon watched over four such relics from Arthur’s kingdom which encompassed thirteen realms.” he said turning back to me.
“Merlin, the first of our order enchanted all the objects to aid the King in his rule, for Arthur was no ordinary king.”
Barnabas turned the box so that the lock faced him. He placed an index finger over the keyhole. A flash of light appeared for an instant. I heard the distinct sounds of metal tumblers turning and clicking together, then the lid began lifting, opening by itself.
“The Order of the Octagon?” “What’s that?” I asked curiously.
“The Order is a group of eight Wizards, charged with keeping the secrets and protecting the relics of Arthur’s reign,” Barnabas said.
“Merlin originally started the group. Before Arthur’s death, Merlin left instructions for the group to have the relics scattered and hidden keeping them safe from the ambitions of men. The responsibility has been passed down from one group of Wizards to the next. Our group of eight has watched over the relics, keeping their secrets the longest, Even the Elder Council is mostly unaware of our groups activities,”
Barnabas reached into the red silk lined box carefully removing a crown holding it gently in his hands. I felt the power contained within it as he drew it closer to us. The crown was beyond description. There were many words I could’ve used such as beautiful, elegant or even exquisite. None of those words however came close to describing the majesty of this crown. The crown was made of gold and a silver colored metal, perhaps platinum or white gold. It had thirteen points in the shape of crosses. The entire crown was etched with intricate Celtic designs and symbols. On the headband set into the gold underneath each point was a brilliant oval shaped blood red ruby about the size of a U.S. Dime.
“This…” Barnabas said in a hushed reverent tone.
“…Is the crown of King Arthur. It was made by the Dwarf Lord Burbine Greybeard and enchanted by Merlin to bestow upon the wearer great knowledge and protection. It along with the other relics we hold in our care are as powerful as the next, should they fall into the wrong hands a man might be able to enslave the world.”
“Which is why what happened to Bialek and Orm is most troubling,” Oswald interrupted.
Barnabas nodded.
“Someone learned of the relics along with those that might know of their whereabouts, they attacked in a coordinated fashion killing both Bialek and Orm, Tilly however escaped with the crystal only by Bialek’s quick thinking.” Oswald finished.
Both he and Barnabas glanced over to the little Cob Elf. Tilly stood next to me standing on a stool in obvious grief, ringing a handkerchief is his hands muttering “My poor master” to himself.
“At this time however all of this is nothing more than speculation of course,” Said Barnabas.
I glanced to Tilly, then to Barnabas and finally to Oswald, a few thoughts had just occurred to me, disturbing and upsetting with unpleasant possibilities.
“Um. I hate to interrupt, but what are the other two relics? I assume Excalibur is one of them. What exactly was contained in that crystal, more importantly how was someone able to foil the privacy spells you put in place and how was he…”
I hooked a thumb at Tilly
“…Able to get past the shops defenses?”
“Well.” Barnabas paused in thought placing the crown back inside the box. Glum tried poking a big finger at the crown before it disappeared. Barnabas absently swatted his hand away without looking, as though this were something he’d done on far too many occasions. Glum withdrew his hand looking crestfallen. Mari moved over to the big guy smiling, patting his hand where Barnabas had smacked it.
“The four relics represent the four qualities a king must have if he is to rule over his kingdom and subjects.”
“First, is the crown which represents wisdom,” Oswald said derailing Barnabas in mid explanation. I swear sometimes they act like two old ladies trying to out gossip the other.
“Yes.” Barnabas said eyeing his longtime friend before continuing. Oswald smiled serenely back at him.
“Second, is the sword which represents strength.”
“Excalibur you mean,” I offered interrupting. Why should Oswald have all the fun?
Barnabas glared as a teacher would at an impudent student. He cocked his eyebrow in a way that always meant be quiet or else. Let’s just say I decided to take the high road remaining silent,
“Third,” He continued. “Is the
crest ring which represents courage,”
Barnabas turned surveying me. I felt uncomfortable believing he was unhappy with me, but as I stared back I thought I saw multiple expressions there. Part regret, part admiration, part envy and part relief. His lips revealed a weary smile. In all the years I’d known him this was the first time he looked old to me, worn out. I noticed lines forming around his eyes and around his mouth as he smiled. He looked every bit his age of seven hundred years and then some. The dark patches under his eyes made his face appear shallow and drawn. My heart sort of sank a bit. It was like seeing your father for the first time after being away for a decade. His smile faded and he spoke again.
“Forth, is the crystal which represents hope,”
“What was the crystal,” I asked with an uneasy feeling tingling up my spine.
“The crystal contained the power of Merlin,” Oswald offered.
“Before he was imprisoned in stone by the Sorceress Morgana,” he continued. “Merlin placed most of his magic and wisdom within the crystal to aid a worthy king should the other three relics fail him during his reign, as they failed Arthur.”
I rubbed my tired eyes.
“As I have said there were eight of us in the Order of the Octagon,” Barnabas said.
“We structured our organization to have four paired sets of Wizard’s living in close proximity to one another watching over and taking care of one of the four items assigned to each pair, Oswald and I are paired as was Bialek and Orm, The tattoo’s not only act as a monitor for each of us but prevent any member of the Order from discussing the Order’s business with outsiders,”
He placed a hand on the arm that sported the tattoo settling his eyes on mine for effect. Silence fell over the shop. My mind tried wrapping itself around this unsettling news. I’d become the vessel for the wisdom of Merlin and his magical power. That was a level of cool I could hardly fathom and it was also terrifying. I’ve heard stories about Merlin. He was like a superhero with all the things he could purportedly do. Most of which I will concede was grounded in legend, but as we all know legends usually start out as fact in the beginning. The deed or deeds are told and retold so many times people add details along with embellishments to make the story new and more exciting. There was another thought gnawing at me. One deeper and a hell of a lot more terrifying, if Whitey and the Vampire twins killed two very powerful Wizards over that crystal, what would they do to me, an upstart Wizard, when they found out that I absorbed the power from that crystal? That train of thought led me to another train of thought and even more questions.
How many others are out there right now searching for the crystal and the remaining relics? My mind was advising me strenuously to find a nice, quiet place to hide. Was there a place on Earth or in Mid-Realm I could hide away from these dangers? Probably not, I sighed in pure frustration. It’s never been in my nature to run from danger. I’m not a brave man by any means. I don’t seek out trouble, but when it finds me I face it. I might be terrified as all hell, but I won’t run. I think the reason for that stems from my school days. I was a tall skinny pasty white kid that couldn’t run very fast. So when the bullies came for me to make my life a living hell. I had a choice to make. Give them what they wanted, my fear, which they craved like a drug or to take their beatings without making a sound. As with everything in my life I chose the hard road learning to take a beating. While I pondered all this I became acutely aware that there were various pairs of eyes staring at me. Well, everyone but Glum. He was looking up counting the tarnished etched copper tiles attached to the ceiling. He must’ve found all the talking very boring.
“Are you alright son,” Asked Barnabas.
“Yes,” I replied. “Just a bit freaked out. It’s a lot to take in. How do we get Merlin’s power out of me,” I asked afraid of the answer.
Nothing seems to ever be easy for me. My question hung thickly in the air and was met by silence. A long silence. Then Barnabas spoke.
“The crystal is the vessel for the power of Merlin to be kept safe for a day of great need. Once the power of Merlin is transferred to a host there is but one way for the power to return to the crystal.”
“And that is?”
“The death of the host,” Oswald supplied.
See.
What’d I tell you? Nothing is ever easy for me. Do you think that just once, something, anything could go my way? Am I asking too flipping much here? How difficult would it have been for me to drink a potion, or wear a hat made into the shape of a pyramid or kiss a pig? Well, maybe I wouldn’t do that last one. I let out a defeated sigh, slumping on my stool then asked.
“OK… Is this power dangerous?”
“No,” said Oswald. “From all available information on the crystal, no. As the power settles into you, it will do many things, but it is not dangerous.”
“What will it do? Will it change who I am,” I asked.
“Over time the power will augment your magic considerably,” Oswald continued. “To a degree it will help clear your mind when your thoughts are cloudy, make your reflexes faster. It will also protect you from many dangers and keep you healthy from disease and injury. The power will even extend your life, but in the beginning the power will remain dormant, waiting.”
“Waiting? Waiting for what?” I asked.
“For the time when you need it most,” Barnabas answered in a detached tone.
“The power, is neither good nor evil,” Barnabas continued. “It adapts itself to the personality of the host. If a person is inherently good then the power reflects that. If a person is inherently evil… Well, let’s say it wouldn’t be good.”
I was dog-tired, but there was no way I could go to sleep after all this. I looked to the floor unblinking for a moment then spoke.
“Alright, let me see if I have all this straight. There is a group of egomaniacs running around looking for the four relics that use to belong to King Arthur. These relics were all enchanted by the most powerful Wizard of all time, Merlin. One of the relics has transferred from one vessel to myself and another is in a box sitting on top of the counter over there.”
I gestured a hand in the direction of the crown.
“That leaves two relics unaccounted for, am I right about the facts so far?” I said finishing.
“More or less,” said Barnabas.
“Good. At least my brain is still functioning.”
I rubbed a hand roughly over my face.
“As for Tilly being able to come and go in the magic shop without any hindrances I think the answer is fairly simple,” said Barnabas. “Tilly was until recently in the service of Hans Bialek, a member of the Order of the Octagon…”
“And had some sort of charm or talisman to use as a key whenever he needed to come here,” I said completing his sentence.
Barnabas and Oswald grinned, pleased with my answers.
“And you’re sure about everything you’re saying about the power of Merlin,” I asked.
Both Oswald and Barnabas stared at me blankly then glanced at each other, unable or unwilling to answer my question. Then Oswald said.
“No we’re not. It’s been quite a long time since the power contained in that crystal was employed,”
I nodded. At least they were being honest by saying they don’t know. It didn’t make me feel any better though.
“What happens now,” I asked.
“We have many things to do in a very short time,” said Barnabas.
“Oswald and I will remain here to question our guests as to whom they might be working for. We also need to get things packed and ready because there are places we must go. Such as ascertaining the whereabouts of the other members of the Octagon as well as making sure the remaining relics are still safely hidden and to search Orm’s home for information,”
Barnabas turned to Mari.
“Mari, would you and Tilly take care of gathering our gear together,” Barnabas asked.
“Of course Barney, whatever you need,” re
plied Mari.
Tilly’s demeanor immediately changed to one of excitement at being able to help.
“I think it would also benefit us to investigate Bialek’s compound for any possible answers which might indicate who was able to get to Bialek and kill him so easily,”
Barnabas turned to me.
“The crown must be taken to a safe place and kept out of the reach of our enemies,” Barnabas continued looking squarely in my direction. “And you will be the one charged with that task,”
“Whoa. Wait. Why me,” I asked.
“Because I said so.” Barnabas replied with a wry smile.
I honestly think he loves to bait me so he can force me into an argument. He knows full well that I have difficulty keeping my mouth shut.
“Because you said so,” I shot back my anger rising. “You want me to take that crown somewhere safe all by myself,” I asked incredulously.
“Why can’t either of you do it?” I said gesturing between Oswald and Barnabas.
“Yes Solomon I do, I wouldn’t give this task to just anyone. I know you’re more than up to the challenge of taking the crown somewhere safe. Oswald and I cannot go because we have to prepare things here. Besides, Bobum and his people are keeping an eye on the shop outside. They’ll let us know if anyone is watching.”
“Fine,” I groaned sagging on my stool.
“Now go get the items you may need for the drop off and meet me back down here.”
I reluctantly slid off my stool trudging over to the door leading up to the apartment above the shop.
Chapter 7
Iopened the door to the apartment that I shared with Barnabas and Mari with a little more force than was necessary, causing the door to swing wide striking the metal spring door stop with an audible “Boing!” followed by the unmistakable dry sound of metal hitting drywall.
“Shit,” I said through clinched teeth.
I examined the wall behind the door; sure enough a doorknob-sized impression was in the drywall about an eighth of an inch deep. My temper got the best of me and I let out a word in a loud growl that sounded a lot like the word “luck”. I breathed in a few short deep breaths exhaling them rhythmically attempting to calm myself down as I slowly closed the door. I would fix the damage later. Here I am a grown man and I’m being treated like a goddamned child. I end up having to do all the disgusting backbreaking grunt work. Whether it’s cleaning up failed experiments, potions that have gone bad - those are the worst - taking things from one place to another or tending to dangerous foul smelling creatures, which if they had half a chance would devour me in a heartbeat. Coughing up your bones in a globulous hair ball a day or two later. Come walk around in the basement under the magic shop if you don’t believe me. Don’t get me wrong I’m not afraid of hard work or getting my hands dirty. I know I’m learning a lot from Barnabas and paying my dues and building character along the way. I get that, but come on; I’m in my mid-twenties for crying out loud.
