by Jensen, Kain
Apparently, the same couldn't be said for Celeste's enthusiasm. Jack almost did a double take after seeing exactly who was sitting in the colourful kitchen, drinking tea with Celeste. It was too late to retreat, though, because the white-haired man had already seen Jack.
"Mr. Raus! It's been quite some time now, hasn't it?" His voice had certainly matured since the last time Jack had seen him, but it sounded no less mischievous.
"It really has, Snow." Jack towered next to the table, cobwebs still wrapped over his clothes.
Celeste looked between the two of them with a frown. "Wait, you two know each other?"
"Unfortunately, we do." Jack's voice dipped dangerously low. To think Snow had the nerve to show up at his house again…
"Well now, I heard you needed some assistance in the matters of magic. What kind of person would I be if I didn't offer my help to an old friend?" Snow grinned, fingers tracing the empty cup of tea.
Jack's eyes followed his every move with suspicion. "You do have a debt to repay. Consider it taken care of if you do what we need." Jack's words succeeded in wiping the smirk from Snow's face, but only temporarily.
Snow stood up, which caused the various bracelets and magic amulets on his wrists to ring softly. Their faint resonance with the iron in the house grated on Jack's nerves. Foreign magic never sat well with him, and especially Snow's magic, but he willed himself to calm down. Even if Snow had an ulterior motive, it wasn't like they could find another mage tonight.
"Shall we begin? If you've found your lock piece, that is." Snow seemed rather enthusiastic, but that was no surprise to Jack. If anyone was up to fiddling around with forbidden spells, it was Snow.
"I have not. So how about you make yourself useful and search around? Maybe your magic will come in handy." Jack noticed Celeste's disappointed expression at his interaction with Snow; it obviously hadn't gone as planned.
"Yeah, like I could do a decent search spell with all that forged iron around." Snow grumbled but walked off and began looking anyway.
"We brought the crate here, by the way," Celeste added while helping Jack inspect the rest of the room for anything that looked like a lock piece.
"Good. What's he on about?" Jack glanced at one of the large windows, behind which Snow was making odd gestures to a rose bush.
"Ah… Think he got a spell wrong. Hope you didn't fancy that bush too much," Celeste said as Jack walked closer to the window.
Indeed, the bush was smouldering.
"That moron. I have to go make sure he doesn't blow up a part of the house again."
"What do you mean, again?" Celeste hurried after him to the garden but couldn't really keep up with Jack's long stride. "Perhaps, consider the implications of him showing such fierily emotions? Or is it just my wistful thinking..."
Jack paced next to the ancient rose bush and glared at Snow, who grinned and snapped his fingers. The plant slowly recovered with a wet sizzling sound.
"No worries. Here, I fixed it." Snow frowned when Jack just shook his head and walked down the path through the garden in obvious dismissal of Snow's new magic trick.
However, Jack stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned around, looking at the large iron gate. Twisting rose branches covered the arch, their leaves glistening with water.
Celeste and Snow followed him to the gate in confusion, but shared a look when Jack carefully parted the longest branches, mindful of the thorns.
It had been there for so long he never even noticed it anymore, but… things were often best hidden in plain sight. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Atop the curved gate stood the crest of his house, a symbolic fire set ablaze with the words 'Dividing Bright from Dark' inscribed underneath. And in the middle of the fire stood the intricate letter R.
Chapter Two
It took them a while to remove the letter without damaging it, but it was finally in Jack's hands. A room on the ground floor of the house served as the forge, just like it had since the house was first built, and Jack was quick to light the furnace. Celeste and Snow watched him from a distance, speaking quietly to each other.
As the room slowly warmed and the persistent moisture on his clothes dried, Jack took out his tools and began working on the lock part. There was a lot of slag covering it, which had gathered on the metal for centuries, but just as he hoped the piece itself was still intact underneath it.
When the purple blaze of the fire had reached an optimal temperature, Jack slowly inserted the letter into the furnace, turning it around several times. The slag burned and fell off after a while, revealing a smooth, dark surface etched with geometrical ridges, confirming the letter was indeed a complex key.
Jack finished the clean-up process by sliding the piece into a barrel of oil and sat near the furnace, waiting for it to cool down. He hoped Celeste was right and the crate would hold something useful, because if it didn't, they were pretty much out of options. Leaning against the wall, Jack closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and ignore the presence of Snow's magic. He spread his consciousness ever so slowly, wrapping it around the deep foundations of the city, feeling the iron and magic wards for any weak spots. Isolating a faulty link could slow down the chaos, even just temporarily.
Loud thunder echoed nearby, and Jack frowned as he tried to keep his concentration. Another strong storm so soon was worrying; there were usually at least several night cycles between them. Jack wondered if it could be part of the old God's power, but nothing he'd felt in the other storm had suggested that, so he pushed the worry to the back of his mind.
Moving farther away from the centre of the city, Jack's mind approached the barren hills of the outskirts. Darkness bloomed like an ink spot between the ground and the main wall, and Jack knew he'd found the place the old God had come through. The wall always did take the worst of the storms, and he figured all the raw power had weakened it. Jack pulled back slowly, trying to keep his presence unnoticed, but there was a flash of something searing hot that blinded him temporarily, burning through his mind like a flare.
"Damn it." He jerked, blinking in the darkness of the forge. His mind had just gotten hit by lightning. "'Guess that's what I get for prodding around iron during a storm… "
Muttering to himself, Jack got up and lit the lanterns, casting the lingering shadows away from the room. There had been something strange in that lightning strike, something unusual. It had burned, but it also left an electrifying feeling in his very bones which had nothing to do with pain. Pacing the room, Jack ran a hand through his chestnut hair. The last thing he needed was to be unable to trust his own body, to feel things he wasn't supposed to. If it had been just another night, he'd prod around the new energy, find out what caused it, but he couldn't allow himself to be distracted while there was a deity of chaos literally knocking on the door.
"Just so you know, I'm ready to crack this up anytime," Snow said, looking at Jack with half-lidded eyes.
"It's all done. Knock yourself out." Jack motioned to the crate near the door, but Snow didn't move.
"I'm not touching that first. For all I know, your predecessors have cursed it. I think you should have the honours of opening it." Snow crossed his arms and waited with a somewhat excited expression.
The letter fit perfectly into the crate's indent, and Jack pressed it down hard. A series of loud metallic clicks followed, and part of the key gave in, forming a handle. Pushing onto it, Jack gritted his teeth as he felt something nip at the skin of his hand and draw blood. So the crate did have a protective spell after all. Then, after another moment of pressure, the lid slid away, revealing the contents of the box.
Snow and Celeste came closer, looking into the dark insides of the crate. Jack pulled out an old journal bound with iron from it, along with a wooden box that held various dusty jars.
"Indeed, we might have gotten lucky." Snow took the journal and walked to a table under one of the lit lanterns before placing it down. He took a moment to admire the worn cover, tracing a finger over the fain
tly glowing red lines etched into it. He grinned, a dangerous glint passing through his amber eyes. "I give you The Blood Spell Codex, as written by Corvin Fenix and Arie Raus."
*~*~*
The hours passed slowly while Snow read through the codex, often asking Celeste to help with the more complex translations as they worked side by side, huddled close on one of Jack's work benches. The codex spoke of many creatures which were nothing but myths to the people of Revdagrad.
"Most of these are memoirs of the founding fathers, but it seems like they were experimenting on a spell which combined iron and organic magic," Snow said without looking away from the book. He turned the pages with care, as the paper was thin enough to see through. "It is opposed to what we know about sky iron, which cannot bind with living matter."
"Did they succeed?" Celeste chimed in.
"Seems like they did… Apparently, they tested the spell, but I can't quite translate that part. On machines?"
The next page revealed a complex schematic. Jack leaned over Snow's shoulder, looking at the diagram. "This is a process of crafting iron locking mechanisms, like the ones you saw on the crate, but way more sophisticated," he said, noting Snow's confusion.
"And their method uses magic. See here and here." Snow pointed out several parts of the diagram. "These are organic glyphs. They allow for regeneration, the rebuilding and forming of cells. I used something similar on the rose bush. Yet, just as you said for the lock, this is very complex variation."
"Can you figure out what it does and if it would be useful in our case?" Jack had waited patiently for Snow's excitement over the journal to settle, but it hadn't happened just yet, and it was time to remind him of his purpose here.
"I can actually, though I don't think you'll be happy to know." Snow turned to the next page. "According to this, it was a device used to capture raw power at its source and tame it to serve the purposes of humankind."
"Meaning what, exactly?" Jack sighed.
"Here's the catch—the raw power came from an elemental deity. Say not quite a god of chaos, but something similar. The wind or the rain or the sea. Apparently, they were all originally controlled by an elemental being." Snow leaned back in his seat, pausing to look at Jack's unreadable expression. "The founding fathers locked the very essence of these beings into machines, bound them to the iron, and used their strength to fight against the chaos."
"Seems like that worked for them. Can we replicate it?" Jack's voice was gruff and had the desired effect on Snow, who finally looked away from him.
"Sure we can, if you have any spare sky iron laying around, as you'll need to forge the binds. And Jack, this is some heavy stuff. You cannot expect it to work without sacrificing something in return." Snow inspected the contents of the wooden box and wrote some calculations on a piece of paper. All of a sudden, his enthusiasm seemed to have burned out.
"Jack was aware that there would be a price from the beginning. We wouldn't have called you otherwise." Celeste knew how to work Snow's ego, because he frowned but took the codex again.
"It says here that only a true knight of the light can tame an elemental deity. Once the spell is complete, the person must devote themselves to the deity until the night they die and the power is set free once more."
"Knight of the light, you say… Well, if there ever was one, it would have carried the blood of Raus, don't you think?" Celeste pointed to Jack's family crest again. "The blacksmiths were the first to master the light, and there would've been no city without them."
"It's my sworn duty as a guardian to protect and give my life for Revdagrad. If it means devoting myself to a God in the machine, then so be it. " Jack retrieved the large scythe hanging above the furnace. It was heavy and darkened by time, but still carried the marks of use, deep dents into its sharp edge. "As long as it helps us get rid of the chaos," he added.
Jack turned it around in his hands a few times watching as the glow of the furnace cast soft purple lights over the metal.
"A tool to harvest the crops with, but also a dangerous weapon. In times when every night carried the promise of battle, this had been inseparable in people's hands." Jack set the weapon down and fuelled up the furnace, its core glowing stronger with each rotation of the mechanism. "It will serve its purpose once more. This much sky iron should be enough for the binds." With one last glance at Snow, Jack began working, melting the old scythe and forging it into a new shape. Eventually, Snow joined him, adding an organic concoction from the jars and chanting the spells from the Codex.
The sky iron was the hardest metal ever known, so Jack brought down his hammer with as much force as possible. Sweat dripped from his brow and slid down the heated skin of his neck, but his hand never wavered. A spark of energy reminded him of the sensation from the lightning and he focused on it, letting his consciousness drip into the metal of the anvil. Jack felt a certainty rise in his mind. He realized he was about to bind the most powerful and ferocious of elementals.
He whispered the word to Snow who closed his eyes briefly but began drawing the last of the spell's sigils. Snow took Jack's dominant hand and cut his palm, letting the blood flow over the hot iron, binding Jack to the metal.
The storm gained power, rain pouring into the gutters and banging loudly on the roof. The wind howled around the barren garden and into the chimney, but it was no match for the burning heat of the furnace.
"Now comes my part. Let's hope your ancestors didn't miss a step in this." Snow grinned when Jack grumbled in response. He began drawing a magic circle on the ground as he looked at the inscription in the codex, golden light shining under his fingers. Then he spoke the words of the spell while Jack left the binds into the circle.
A tremor ran through the ground after the last word, and the stone floor cracked under the pressure of the dark roots spawning underneath it in a twisted heap. They enclosed the circle completely, wrapping around it with a wailing sound. Green-leaved buds burst from them and opened into flowers which withered within seconds.
Snow and Celeste had covered their ears from the painful sound, but Jack stood unmoving, gaze locked to the twisted roots. The floor was covered with golden leaves, and the sound stopped along with the pounding of the rain.
A hand ripped through the roots, tearing them like paper and snapping Jack from his daze. Without missing a beat, Jack took a deep breath and slowly kneeled, bringing his bloodied hand to his forehead. Another slow moment passed, and a man stepped forward, no longer trapped in the roots.
Jack looked up and found himself captivated by the man's fierce eyes, a deep blue-grey like heavy storm clouds. Sharp features under pitch-black hair and smooth, naked skin which appeared to merge seamlessly with the iron binds.
An electric current ran through his spine as the man grasped Jack's arm hard enough to bruise and pulled him up from the floor.
"Give… me… a name." He whispered it against Jack's lips.
Jack's eyes widened as an old memory clicked into place. The naming completing the ritual, how it called power into being.
"Zephyr." Voice low, Jack gifted him a name. He noticed the light in Zephyr's eyes change, its ferociousness softening. Jack wrapped his arms around Zephyr's waist and spoke the finishing words of the spell in the archaic Guardian speech. "You are the storm, and now I have tamed you. In return for your power, I shall serve you until my dying breath."
Chapter Three
During his first nights in the mansion, the only times Zephyr acknowledged Jack at all was in the evenings, before going to sleep, and when Jack would bring him food. His complex, semi-mechanical body also required certain care to function properly, and given his knowledge of metalwork part of Jack's new duties consisted of tending to Zephyr's hands and legs. The smooth metal they were made of could slide away at Zephyr's will and reveal the tightly woven iron muscles underneath. Jack used machine oil to maintain them, and often felt mesmerized by their complexity.
Zephyr hadn't shown any signs of discomfort during the
whole ordeal, though in time Jack noticed he seemed to fall in some form of peaceful trance, and even seemed to enjoy the touch of Jack's roughened fingers over the exposed metal. Jack worked with ease in the soft silence between them, and hoped Zephyr would grow to forgive him eventually and maybe even like him. At least, Jack suspected that being bound in a human body was the reason for his silence.
After a few more nights, Jack felt his patience had been rewarded when Zephyr joined him in his routine exercises. He seemed intent on mastering complete control over his body, developing the dexterity and physical endurance fit for a warrior. However, he remained quiet every time Jack would bring up the threat of the chaos God, and Jack was uncertain how Zephyr felt about the whole ordeal. Jack couldn't help but worry if Zephyr expected something more from him, before accepting their comradeship.
And while the threat of the chaos God hanged nearly on their doorstep, Jack wasn't about to make the mistake of going into battle unprepared. He'd left Snow and Celeste the task of gathering more information about it and told himself to focus solely on Zephyr, who would be the true ace in their hand.
It took some time getting used to having someone else in the mansion again. Jack had become accustomed to the silence of the house and breakfasts in solitude, but having Zephyr there turned that around, especially when he finally decided to talk with Jack. His voice was deep and husky, just like it had been on the faithful night Jack had bound him. He spoke carefully, sometimes using words from the Old Speech, and Jack couldn't help but wonder how strange and different the world must seem to Zephyr after all those years.
"You must have quite the equanimity, to summon me here again."
"Again?" Jack leaned forward on his chair, gaze never leaving Zephyr's face. "What do you mean by that?"