It was quickly hidden, replaced once again by his familiar stern look.
‘I see,’ his father sighed calmly. ‘If that is truly the case then I have nothing more to teach you. When you return home, you will find your own path.’
Without another word Nicholas scooped up his crumpled jacket from the chair beside the bed and stormed away from Archy without looking back.
Archy sank into the bed and once again fell into a troubled sleep.
By the time he was discharged Archy had received visits from Mole and the Professor along with others from the dig. They all seemed warm towards him and accepted his humble apologies for what he had done. His apologies were cast aside as everyone seemed genuinely pleased to see him recovering. Even Professor Bee had to laugh at Archy’s audacity and complemented his natural sense of adventure and a true archaeologists’ intrigue if not a little natural recklessness.
The following day Mole remained by his side until Archy had gathered his belongings from the hospital bed. He thanked the portly nurse and doctors for his care as he packed his suitcase. Walking through the main doors of the ornate hospital building Mole carried his bags to save Archy’s bruised and battered arms.
Archy now walked with a limp, but miraculously he had sustained only bruising and sprains, nothing had been broken by the crumbling stones.
‘Professor Bee has said you can come back again you know.’ Mole said with a smile as the pair waited for George to trudge up the road with his tired horse dragging the heavy cart behind. ‘Although I think he would prefer it if you didn’t accidentally bury what he thinks would have been a very significant find.’
Archy felt a pang of guilt and lowered his gaze to his feet.
‘It would have been. I don’t think anyone would ever believe what was down there.’
‘Perhaps when you come back Archy you can tell me all about it.’
‘You wouldn’t believe me.’ Archy sighed. ‘Nobody will.’
Not allowing Archy to wallow in his own self-pity for any longer than necessary Mole dropped Archy’s recovered satchel to the floor between them.
‘I forgot these.’ Mole said with a smile. ‘The Professor insisted that you keep the thing you risked your life for too.’
From behind him, Mole produced a large piece of fabric wrapped around a long thin item. Archy’s heart raced as he hoped he knew what lay within the cloth.
‘You were clutching at this when we finally dragged you from the hole and my satchel somehow made it out in almost one piece.’
Mole unwrapped the thin package and presented him the battered sword that had saved Archy in the dark cavern.
‘Thank you.’ Archy said, grinning from ear to ear.
‘You deserve it’ Mole said as he handed it over. ‘Let it be a reminder of how close you came to death for something so simple.’
Taking the sword and his belongings, Archy clambered up onto the cart and as the sun began to set he bid farewell to Bardon Hill and Vercovicium. When the familiar train once again pulled out of the station, he felt a wave of disappointment. This time, the train transported him back home.
He felt sad to be saying farewell to Mole and Vercovicium, but he knew deep down the future was ahead of him. Archy knew he had to move towards it.
Chapter Nine
The new path ahead
The journey home allowed Archy the time to revisit his journal. For the first leg, he spent the most of it staring at the rough sketch of the horned skull he had drawn so roughly on the pages. As the second stretch of his homeward journey began he had started to recount the events of his discovery on the pages.
Even writing them, he could see how fantastical and outrageous the story would seem. Who would believe that in the depths of the English countryside monsters so gruesome and unbelievable could exist? The only evidence he had was a roughly drawn skull that could belong to anything and a sword that was nothing more than that, a sword.
Through the journey home, Archy almost filled the first half of the book with notes and descriptions. He poured his memories onto the page in so much detail until he knew he had missed nothing. Anyone else reading it would struggle to believe, but Archy knew it was the truth.
‘How can I prove to them this is all real?’ He scribbled the words on the page and dropped the fountain pen down in the crease of the journal.
By the time he reached the edge of London, he knew what he had to do. As the train rolled into St Pancras station, Archy knew his father would not be waiting for him. As expected he disembarked the train onto the platform finding himself all alone.
The weather was overcast and a heavy summer rain poured from the grey sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Archy pulled his jacket close around him and emerged from the station into the evening streets of London.
Wandering the streets, Archy never returned to his father’s home. Instead, he found his way back to his boarding school and so began his obsession. Nobody paid him any attention as Archy walked through the rain. How could they know what terrors he had faced and the journey that lay before him now?
From that moment, fuelled by the events at Vercovicium Archy knew he had to prove to the world, and perhaps himself, that what he had seen was real. Aside from the ornate sword that had emerged from the collapsed cavern with him he had nothing but his own recollections and accounts to support what he had seen.
There had to be more; he knew that. There was no way that such a fantastical and terrifying beast could remain hidden from the annals of history. It would just be a case that Archy would have to search for the hidden truths and show the world what had remained hidden for too long.
The events of summer 1911 had done one thing for certain with Archy; it had changed him entirely. He had arrived at the campsite a young adolescent boy unsure of his future and scared of his past. Having survived his encounter with the Nivag and seen the crusted remains of the Magdon he had emerged completely different.
Archy now found himself filled with resolve and purpose. He had survived near death and from that he had learned the harshest of all truths as his father had walked away from him in the hospital. Any journey as unbelievable and treacherous as this would be one he would have to endure alone.
Archibald Barney Skevington would go on to be one of the few that knew of the truth that deep within the shadows live the things we have forgotten. Just because we do not know they are there does not mean they do not exist. It only means that we have been too blind to see what has been in front of us all this time.
Archy’s encounter had merely scratched the surface and piqued his curiosity. The jagged scar on his palm and the nameless sword that Mole had handed him outside the hospital were his reminders. What his adventure had told him was that whatever the Magdon was, it existed. So too did the devilish and demonic Nivag. Quite what they were and what they were doing in the shadowy depths was something he would have to find out.
It was to be a long, lonely and difficult journey and the truth would be the fuel and his determination.
Archy understood then that there has always been something living in the shadows only now it has a name:
The Magdon.
Archy’s adventures will continue...
Reference
Magdon [mag-d-on] – mythical creature part human, part animal. Powerful and terrifying having lived in the shadows for thousands of years these creatures are few and far between.
Nivag [n-i-vag] – sworn guardians of the Magdon. Disturbing in their appearance with half of their body appearing as a skeleton and the other half aged human skin and clothes.
Vercovicium [ver-ko-vi-shium] – ancient Roman fort set along Hadrian’s Wallbuilt in AD124 also known as Housestead’s Fort.
Archaeology [ahr-kee-ol-uh-jee] – the scientific study of historic or prehistoric peoples by looking at their artifacts, monuments, inscriptions and other remains.
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Origins Of The Magdon: Vercovicium Page 4