by M K Drake
“What if I told you I could give you the power to defeat him and his companions?” Razakel continues, “All you need to do is drink this,” he looks at Herensugue, who brings forward a goblet.
“What is it?” asks Bradley.
“Come now Bradley, I offer you a gift and you question it?” says Razakel, his voice holding more authority, almost as if it is an order for Bradley to drink the goblet’s contents rather than an offer.
“I just want to go home,” says Bradley.
“But what about Atticus, Bradley. You hate him don’t you?” Razakel grows more impatient.
Bradley nods.
“Drinking this will make things clearer for you,” says the Demon King, “I know you secretly covet the power they have. Yes, you say they are ‘freaks’, but I know, deep down, you want that same power.”
“No, I just want to go home, to my family,” says Bradley, hoping, praying that they will let him go.
“Very well,” says Razakel, “We did ask nicely.”
Razakel turns his back and looks at Alvarez, who needs no further invitation to do what he loves most: cause pain.
He transforms into his beast form, roaring loudly as he runs towards Bradley. He grabs his head and holds it head high, beckoning Herensugue to come with the goblet, the contents of which are forcefully poured down the prisoner’s throat.
Bradley chokes and splutters, trying to spit the potion out, but he can’t manage it. He feels it — in his veins, his blood is boiling. Bradley’s head spins, his thoughts are being re-written, reprogrammed. He knows what is right, but that which is wrong is pulling him in the other direction. Finally the anger takes over, consuming every part of his mind and soul. The image of his hatred, Atticus, flows through his mind.
“Atticus!” he screams, “I hate Atticus! I want to tear him limb from limb!”
Razakel chuckles, “Good. Feel your morality being stripped away. Their world gives you confusion, Bradley, I give you clarity. Their world takes power away from you, I give you power,” he walks back towards Bradley and leans down to him, “Now, you call me master.”
Bradley, drained and exhausted, looks upwards, and whispers, “Yes master. I am yours to command.”
Razakel turns to several Screamers waiting near the doorway and nods to them. They open the main doors to reveal a massive beast pulsating into a walking shadow and then into a physical form, almost like a werewolf, but much bigger. It takes five Screamers to hold the creature. They drag it closer and closer towards their captive human.
“Do not be afraid, Bradley,” says Razakel, “This is all part of the gift I give to you,” he looks at Alvarez, “Use the neck,” he says, “The transformation will work quickest from there.”
Alvarez heeds his master’s orders.
The monster is brought closer, it looks at Razakel who smiles and nods, then it leaps at Bradley, biting into his neck. Bradley screams in agony. The beast writhes excitedly and roars, before biting his victim again.
Razakel laughs loudly in the background, “Behold the birth. The birth of Shadow Wolf!”
Alvarez and the other Screamers bellow and howl into the air. The strange werewolf like being turns into smoke and enters Bradley’s body via the wound it has created, consuming him. Bradley screams again, louder this time; as he continues screaming it changes pitch and his body begins to transform. The scream changes pitch again, getting lower, turning into a growl, and the transformation is complete.
Shadow Wolf roars into the air, howling along with the Screamers and Alvarez. He then turns to Razakel.
“Master,” he says, his voice deep and foreboding, “I thank you for this gift. My revenge will be your victory.”
“Good,” laughs Razakel, “But first, there is another task you must complete.”
# # #
“Do not worry, Atticus,” says Joyce, “Elric will find a way to save Bradley.”
Atticus stares out into the front garden, “It has been a week now. We have heard nothing about any plans.”
“Well, what do you suggest?” asks Joyce, “We can’t exactly storm into the Demon Realm and save him ourselves, that would be suicide.”
“But you have seen the missing person posters of Bradley around town,” says Atticus, “We can’t even tell his family we know where he is. They must be worried sick.”
“I saw his mum yesterday, outside the school gates,” says Joyce, “She was asking the students if anyone had seen her son. It was horrible to watch.”
The night sky blankets the house. Sophia and Joseph are in the front room watching a movie. Joyce and Atticus decide to move to the back garden where things are a little quieter.
“I’m scared, Joyce,” says Atticus.
“We all are,” she replies.
“There are not many of us here. Razakel has hundreds of thousands of demons at his command,” Atticus says, pacing up and down the garden path, “How do we fight an army like that? It’s only a matter of time before he uses the medallion. A part of me wishes he would just do so and get things over with. Why is he playing this waiting game?”
“Arrogance,” replies Joyce, “He is very powerful, he knows that no-one here is a match for him yet. Not even you, Atticus. He is probably enjoying the thought of us being scared, and wants to prolong that fear.”
“Myrddin seemed confident enough,” says Atticus, “He must have seen that we will win this. Translating the documents in the tomb of Kazmagus is taking longer than expected, too. Myrddin has changed the locking system and Elric has been busier deciphering that than planning a rescue. Perhaps the answer lies in there,” he peers through the window into the living room. He can see Joseph and Sophia snuggling on the sofa. He looks at Joyce, and the night sky, clear but for a few scattered clouds.
Atticus holds out his hand, “Joyce, come with me,” he says as softly as he can.
Joyce takes his hand and they float skywards. Atticus takes them both up into the night above the clouds. They soar through them, dancing between the star constellations and come to rest just above the mists over the River Thames.
“You see that there,” says Atticus, “I bet that’s Big Ben.”
Joyce peers down, “Look, there’s the London Eye,” she says, pointing, before frantically grabbing hold of Atticus again, “I see your flying skills have improved, Pancake Man.”
“Yeah, a massive dragon chasing you does seem to act as effective motivation,” replies Atticus with a grin. He hugs Joyce tightly, “We’ve grown a lot these last few months. Maybe a little too quickly.”
“What do you mean?” asks Joyce.
“It was hard to be away from you for so long during my year within the runes,” replies Atticus.
“Yes, but it does mean you managed to grow this funky new hair,” giggles Joyce.
“Very funny,” says Atticus, “What I’m trying to say is, during that year away, I did a lot of thinking. I know we are young, but it is strange, what I feel for you is so strong. You are the reason why I have pushed myself so hard, Joyce. Saving you was all I could think about. If anything had happened to you, I don’t know…”
“Shhhhh!” says Joyce, she puts her right forefinger on Atticus’ lips, before moving forward to kiss them softly.
At that moment Atticus realises something. That same drive that pushed him, that same feeling of love, this is their greatest weapon against Razakel. He thinks back to his parents, Joseph and Sophia, and how much love they have for each other. His mind then wanders to Mage Callan, whose all-too apparent blushes whenever Serenity is mentioned tell their own story. Then to the forbidden love that torments both Khan and Safaya. This drive to do whatever it takes to protect what they hold dear, it is this that will help them win the battle. Atticus breathes softly, as if new calm and understanding are giving him clarity.
“What’s the matter, Atticus?” asks Joyce.
Atticus looks at Joyce, “Nothing,” he whispers, “Absolutely nothing. We should head back now,” as they start
their journey back, Atticus realises the decision he must make; he senses the tension increasing within Joyce as they return as well.
They arrive back at Atticus’s house fairly quickly. When they get inside, they hear voices in the living room − Marcellus has arrived and has brought snacks. Atticus is both glad and frustrated. Glad to see Marcellus, but frustrated that he is unable to tell Joyce something he needs to.
“Atticus, my dear boy, please, come. And Joyce,” says Marcellus, “So good to see you both.”
Today Marcellus is dressed most strangely, in a chequered coat and a deerstalker hat. Atticus senses that he has seen that hat before, but can’t quite place where.
“What is it?” asks Joyce.
“Lebanese food. They call it – shar-waa-maa,” replies Marcellus, trying hard to get the pronunciation correct.
Atticus and Joyce each grab one of the take out bags and begin to devour their contents.
“So, where did you two disappear to the night of the dance competition?” asks Marcellus, “I must have left the house for less than half an hour; you two must have come and gone during that time.”
“We had to go to the manor,” replies Atticus, trying to speak through a mouthful of chicken sharwama.
“That school takes up so much of your time; I barely get to see you anymore,” says Marcellus.
“Neither do we,” says Sophia, “But I’m sure it is all for important things.”
Marcellus strokes his chin, “Indeed,” he says, “And Joyce, hope you are feeling better? I heard you were a little poorly.”
“Better now,” replies Joyce, “It was… erm, an allergic reaction to a nasty insect bite,” she says coyly, not knowing if Marcellus knows the full story.
“Must have been some insect,” says Marcellus.
“It was this big, according to her,” quips Atticus, holding his arms out as far apart as they can go.
Joyce almost chokes on her food, before everyone is interrupted by the phone ringing. Sophia answers it. She soon returns to the living room and turns to Atticus and Joyce.
“That was Elric,” she says, “He needs you both back at the Manor as soon as possible. Something about ‘the room being ready.’”
Atticus and Joyce look at each other, stuff down their last few bits of food, and get ready to leave.
“Here, I’ll drive you both,” says Marcellus, “Just picked up a new car and need to run it in anyway.”
They wave bye to Sophia and Joseph and head towards Marcellus’s new car, a brand-spanking-new Jaguar XJR, decked out in black paint and huge wheels.
“Very nice, Uncle Marcellus,” says Atticus.
“Many thanks,” replies Marcellus, “Now, we’d better hurry; it sounds like this Elric fellow needs you back at the manor fairly urgently.”
They reach their destination in a few minutes, but Marcellus does not drive all the way in, he simply stops at the main gates, “That’s far enough, I think,” he says.
“Not coming in?” asks Joyce.
“Err… no, not today, I have to meet someone in a few minutes. Perhaps next time,” replies Marcellus.
As he drives off, Joyce turns to Atticus, “That is the second time he has come to the gates and can’t wait to get away,” she says, “Bit strange, that.”
Atticus shrugs off the comment, “Marcellus is all right, just a bit busy. Haven’t seen him much since my powers were awakened.”
“Well, as long as you can trust him,” says Joyce.
“I can,” replies Atticus confidently.
They rush through the manor towards the Tomb of Kazmagus and find the rest of the Majjai Six there, along with Elric, Professor Sprocking, Professor Morgan, and Mage Callan.
“Quickly,” says Elric, “inside,” he steps into the tomb and lights several torches, “It took some time, as you know, but we have finally regained access to this chamber. Atticus, if you would be so kind.”
Atticus steps forward and puts his hand in the palm impression to open the door. As soon as it opens, Elric ignites more torches so that there is enough light for everyone to see where they are going.
“We definitely need some new lighting in here,” says Ju Long.
The others follow Elric in as he fires up the oil trough, which lights the rest of the chamber. They reach the main altar and find a thought crystal there.
Elric activates it and Myrddin appears.
“Glad to see you were able to get back in my friends,” says the image, “I have found much here, and translated as much as possible before other duties became more urgent. There are, indeed, three swords of power, but the whereabouts of the third sword are unknown. What is clear, though, is that this sword is not to be wielded by any man. The texts were cryptic in this regard, and I think it means that no man is able to wield it. Regardless, we still need to find it, as some of the things written imply that these three swords are key to winning the war against Razakel.”
Myrddin strokes his beard and looks down again towards the Majjai below him, “Glad to see you are ok, Joyce; hope my potion wasn’t too bitter. As I was saying, there are many items within these walls: maps, clues, and information on many, many trinkets that Kazmagus was researching and creating. I have left instructions on how to translate the language. Good luck, my friends; who knows, we may meet again one day.”
The thought crystal’s image disappears, and the Majjai all look at each other.
“I guess we’re supposed to look around, then?” says Atticus.
“Indeed,” says Elric, “But perhaps tomorrow will be a better time for that. Let us rest today so we are fresh to look at these properly.”
“But,” interrupts Ju Long, “It’s Saturday tomorrow. We should get paid for this.”
Olof quickly knocks some sense into him with a quick slap on the back of his head.
They follow Elric to the Majjai Hall. The hall itself has been fully restored, and one would be hard-pressed to find any evidence of a violent battle within it.
“There have been some interesting intrusions into our realm the last few days,” says Elric, “I have had watcher reports come in that state sightings of a werewolf, one unlike any other seen before. Some even say that the beast turns into shadow upon being discovered.”
“How does this concern us?” asks Professor Morgan.
“This werewolf wears the dragon insignia, torn from the uniform of this school,” replies Elric, “I fear Bradley has been turned.”
“Turned?” asks Atticus, “What does that mean?”
Joyce looks down to the floor, sighs, then looks at Atticus, “It means he has been stripped of all humanity, Atticus. His morality will no longer exist − all he will feel is hatred and anger.”
“Yes,” replies Elric, “And there is someone here who he feels more anger against than anyone else.”
“Me,” says Atticus.
“Yes,” replies Elric, “I suspect that Razakel was never actually after you. We miscalculated. Bradley was his target all along.”
“But why?” asks Atticus.
“Another enemy for you − the more he can amass, the greater his chances. And this one is of particular interest, because the amount of hatred exponentially increases the transformation’s strength. Bradley will be a formidable foe,” says Elric, “We must be on our guard.”
“Why is he waiting to attack?” asks Khan, “He has the medallions, surely he can enter our realm any time.”
“Yes, but he needs to prepare his invasion,” says Elric, “I doubt we have much time, but we will have to meet him wherever he appears. The Orb is locked away in the Majjai Hall, and should be well protected. I have put measures in place to prevent the traitor in our midst from getting their hands on it. Olof, can the Norse Majjai join us?”
“I will send a request to meet with them,” replies Olof.
Elric looks at the others, “It’s time we rally the troops. Begin your communications once we have finished here.”
“Do we have any idea o
n who it is yet, this traitor?” asks Professor Sprocking.
“I have a suspicion,” replies Elric, “And rest assured, it will be dealt with.”
Elric stands, takes his walking stick and makes his way to one of his book shelves. As he reaches for one of the hardbacks he suddenly keels over in pain.
“Arrrrgghh!” he screams.
Safaya and Professor Morgan rush over to catch him.
“What is it?” screams Safaya.
“I sense something,” says Elric, “No! No! It is too soon!”
“What is it?” shouts Professor Sprocking.
“The portals, they are opening,” says Elric, “They are coming. It’s time.”
Chapter 27
Traitor
“Where Elric?” asks Professor Sprocking.
“We have to leave,” screams Elric, “Now! We have to go back, Aria is about to see another battle.”
The Majjai quickly stand together.
“Remember, bring all those who are able to fight; we meet outside Aria,” says Elric.
Joyce looks at Atticus, “You ready?”
Atticus looks at Joyce, then the other Majjai, “Yes.”
# # #
In a bright flash, the Majjai disappear, leaving just a puff of dissipating smoke. As the smoke clears, a shadow creeps out from behind the bookshelves. It slithers out of the room and towards the great Majjai doors. Once there it transforms into its beast form, still hidden in the darkness. It whispers the password “Farasi Bakhwar,” and the doors open.
“You have done well, Shadow Wolf,” Says a figure standing in front of the beast.
“Thank you, Professor,” Snarls Shadow Wolf, “Now I must continue with my own mission. I will see you at the rendezvous point.”
“Very well,” replies the traitor, “Did you find out where the Orb is hidden?”
“It is in the Majjai Hall,” replies Shadow Wolf before melting into the darkness.
The traitor heads towards the Majjai Hall. Once there he opens the entrance to the rooms behind it. Before he can go through, a voice shouts from behind him.
“Snugglebottom!” says the voice, “YOU are the traitor!”