Ascendancy Origins Trilogy

by Bradford Bates

  I realized the boat was pulling away from Alcatraz toward the open water on the left, and I looked questioningly at Adam. He pointed at a small rock in front of us and said, “Wait and see.”

  Our boat must have crossed the illusion that kept the small base invisible from us during our trip out here. The base itself must have been about two thousand square feet with another thousand wrapped around it for docking. Five men in matching black uniforms marched out from the building at the sound of our arrival. Adam jumped to the dock while the boat was still moving. I waited until the boat was only gently rocking back and forth before making my own exit. The men led us silently away from the dock and into the building ahead.

  The building’s simple brick construction should weather the wear and tear of the ocean well. The small, squat building might have been a fortress of its own. The bricks had been painted a solemn grey, to match the dock. Once we entered the building, all of the men went into a room on the left, leaving Adam and me alone to walk down the hallway to the right. The guards must have done their duty for the day and were heading back to their living quarters.

  There was a single door at the end of the hallway. Adam placed his palm against the door, and it gave off a momentary glow. He removed his palm, and I heard the click as a lock opened. The door slid silently into the wall, revealing a small corridor. The space was only wide enough for us to walk single file, so again, I found myself following Adam. The difference this time was that the space was lit, helping to ease the sense of claustrophobia enveloping me.

  The door slid shut behind us. As we walked along the corridor, it seemed to be going in a straight line, but I had the distinct impression that I was walking downhill. After about five minutes, I could feel a slight change, and my sense told me we were heading up again. There was no way that we were still on the island we docked on. That could only mean that we were underwater somewhere between there and the island of Alcatraz.

  A solid wall came into view, and Adam repeated the magic with his palm print, and the door slid open. The space that opened up before us felt even wider than it actually was after the oppressive confines of the hallway we just exited. We had officially entered the prison island of Alcatraz.

  There wasn’t much in this place that impressed me. The prison subscribed to the philosophy of function over form. The main level had a concrete floor; I could only assume the second level of cells was the same. The expanse of concrete was only broken by the black iron bars. I could see only three cells lining the far wall, but I could not yet tell if any of them were occupied. “How many prisoners do you house here?”

  Adam looked over his shoulder at me while continuing to move toward the cell in the center of the back wall. “Right now, we only have one.”

  I found it hard to believe they had created this entire place just to hold one man. Something about spending this much money to house one person just seemed ridiculous. Maybe they had plans to expand that count at some point. Judging by the way John had dealt with the warlock, I could see why most of the cells were open. Adam pointed toward a painted line on the floor. It indicated how far away you should stand from the cell to be out of arm’s reach of its occupant. I looked back at Adam, starting to feel slightly worried about what we were going to see. Adam never took his gaze away from the man lying on the cot in front of us.

  When the man rolled over and stood up, it was worse than I thought. Now I knew why they had built all of this to keep just one man prisoner. News of his exploits in England were the stuff of children’s nightmares. My mother used to tell me stories, and when I wouldn’t do my chores, she would say, “Bad little boys will get taken by Edward The Butcher.” I was stunned to see the terror from my childhood alive and standing in front of me. He looked slightly different from what I’d envisioned from my mother’s stories.

  Edward was large. He must have been considered huge when he was born in the 1300s. My mother always described him with a clean-cut face, highlighting his fierce eyes. Today, I found him with a full beard; not too many people to impress buried under Alcatraz. His eyes had taken on a shade of yellow that I had never seen on one of our people before; they almost struck me as animalistic in nature. When his gaze drifted over me, I felt like he had picked apart my soul. When he turned back to look at Adam, I felt my heart start to beat again, and cold air filled my lungs once more. He pulled on a long-sleeved shirt obscuring the tattoo on his arm. I hadn’t gotten a clear look at it, but it had to be a snake or a dragon.

  His voice boomed out deep and rich, but with a slight hint of scratchiness. I doubted that Edward received very many visitors to chat with. “Adam, have you finally come to finish me? I am tired of languishing away in this cell.” His voice hit just the right amount of righteous anger and resignation.

  I watched in shock as Adam physically deflated. He had some kind of bond with this man, and it pained him to see him locked away. Adam’s words came out barely above a whisper. “Not today, old friend.”

  I was surprised to see a hint of laughter around the corners of Edward’s eyes. What had he been expecting when we had shown up? He watched Adam like a hawk and replied, “So tell me then, what brings you to my humble abode?”

  I was waiting for Adam’s response when I felt my face smash into the cell. I tried to pull away, but Edward’s arms were like iron. He wrapped one arm around me and placed a hand against my head with the other. His palm flared light once, and I fell to the ground. Adam finally reached me and pulled me away from the bars. He shielded me from the man in the cell and called for help. My last thought was that he was too late to save me, and then the world went dark.

  8

  Edward

  The chains on my wrists and ankles were unbearable; the screws on the cuffs had been tightened until they drew blood. It had been a while since I could feel my feet, and the tingling sensations were starting to fade from my hands. If they did not release the cuffs soon, I might be in danger of losing an appendage.

  My hatred for the Council grew with every shuffling step I took toward them. There was no call for parading me in front of my peers, when I had only followed their orders. Originally, I had felt a sense of sadness when they had betrayed me, but now, I felt my blood sing with the heat of my rage, wrapping around my soul like a Boa constrictor, keeping me moving when I should have long ago fallen to the floor. I crushed any other feelings I had. They would only be allowed to see my disdain, my contempt.

  The Judicator of the Council stepped up to the jeweled dais. The crowd fell silent without him saying a word. When he spoke, it was with quiet authority. “Today, I stand before you with the sad duty of placing judgment on one of our finest soldiers. Edward of Longshire has been found guilty of the murder of one hundred and fifty humans. He abused the power bestowed upon us, and used it to wipe an entire village from the map. Every man, woman, and child killed in an instant. He stood before us in closed chambers, saying the humans had been working with the Lycans. Our finest investigators could not corroborate a single detail of his story.”

  A hushed cry escaped from the crowd. I could feel their eyes boring into my back. If anything, it only made me stand straighter, to lift my eyes toward the man that held my fate in his hands. He looked down upon me with cool confidence, completely assured of his victory against me. Mark my words, if I was not killed today, I would see this man dead before I passed into the next life.

  The Judicator had spun his tale well. In the lingering silence since he last spoke, the crowd had started to mutter. Their words reached me, threatening to tear away the veneer I held so desperately in place. I could tell the crowd held no doubt in their minds that I had done these things for simple vengeance. I was surprised that Adam was not here to see the fate he had chosen for me himself. I silently prayed that knowing I was innocent would be enough to sustain me through the years ahead.

  The crowd slowly fell silent behind me, and I was shoved roughly to my knees. The Judicator stared down at me, and I prepared myself to
hear his judgment.

  His voice washed over me. “For the charges leveled against him, Edward would normally be sentenced to death. Adam has stepped in on his behalf and asked us to be lenient. The Council has also taken into account his decorated service record. In response, we sentence you to one hundred years of hard labor. You will be removed from this room and interned at the mining camp of New Ashton. Take him away!”

  The crowed continued to mutter and shout as I was hauled roughly back to my feet. Finding some hidden cache of inner strength, I shattered the chains holding me. The guards were not prepared for such a move; breaking the runed chains was thought to have been impossible. I called again on my gift, pinning the guards to the floor. I walked slowly forward to the Council still seated above me.

  I let the rage and disdain creep into my voice. “I want you to remember this day, the day I could have taken my revenge. The day I chose to let you live. An innocent man stands before you, knowing that when I am done serving my sentence, my wife and son will have passed on. Their human lifespans are but a flicker of a flame to us, but one that I am not ready to be separated from. Know this, when they are gone and I am set free, I will come for you. One at a time, you will fall to my rage, and your families will learn what it is like to suffer.”

  The Judicator stepped forward, and I let him break my spell pinning the guards to the floor. Better that he underestimates my strength the next time we meet. The guards quickly rose to their feet and several more rushed into the room. I did not raise a hand against them as I was thrown to the ground and chained again. I let their blows rain down upon me, relishing in the pain. One of their kicks broke my nose, and the red blood flowed freely down my tunic as I was hauled to my feet.

  I screamed out one last time, “You will pay dearly for your treachery today!”

  I tried to shout again, but a fist slammed into my stomach knocking the air from my lungs. The blow was followed by several more to my back and sides. The beating continued until my legs finally failed me, and again I crashed to the floor. My head was lifted and water poured over my eyes to clear my vision. Byron had stepped down from his dais and came to address me directly.

  He struck me in the face again, and I felt something snap. I was beyond caring what happened to me now. I spit blood all over the front of his robes and laughed as he hit me again. This man held no power over me. He was not my equal.

  The blows continued to fall, and as I slipped into unconsciousness, I heard him say, “As if you could harm me.”

  All I could think of was that he had fallen right into my trap. One hundred years would pass before I came for him, but come for him I would. The guards flipped me over and started to haul me away. I wondered just how badly he had hurt me; looking at the trail of blood I left in my wake, it had been quite a bit. Slowly, my vision started to fade again, and I hoped that maybe, just maybe, death would finally find me.

  The next five hundred years of my life would fly through the young man’s mind as just a whisper, just a dream. The spell I had so painstakingly crafted would only show him two memories, but there was no way to stop the bleed of others from reaching his psyche. He would undoubtedly see glimpses of the revenge that I had taken over the years. Most of it was not pretty, but after my family suffered without me, it did feel justified.

  He had already seen the first memory, of me being sentenced to prison. Now I needed him to see one more. Now I wanted him to see the first part of my plan and to be able to tell it to Adam. I hoped the influx of the memories did not overload his mind. Having been trapped in a cell, there wasn’t anyone available for me to practice the spell on before unleashing it. The mind is a fragile thing. Push too hard, and you could just leave a drooling vegetable behind.

  I hoped that the spell was still working, but there was no way to know. Someone needed to see the truth behind my motivations. Someone needed to speak for me when I was gone. There was no way to hide anything from this man, he would see the deaths I had caused, and hopefully the brutality of it wouldn’t turn him away from me. I watched as his eyes rolled back into his head. He had slipped into the final memory. Now he would see my history with Adam, and feel the hate that I had for him.

  I had finally tracked down that crafty old bastard. You would have thought that tracking the head of the Ascendancy would be easy, but as with all good things that come, it never was. It turned out that tracking someone who did not want to be found was more of an art than a science.

  My journey had started with rumors of a man on the West Coast gathering the Gifted to him. It was said that he had created a new order, to do what the Council even refused to acknowledge. The fight against the Demons was real, that was the rallying call that I heard amongst the Gifted. Somehow I knew that Adam was here. That I had finally found him. The pull that led me here was instinctual; now it was time to find out if I was right. If Adam truly was in this city then his time had come; he would feel the magnitude of my hate for him. It would shake him to the very core.

  The hatred flowed and pulsed within me, keeping me warm against the chill in the air. Hiding in the forested hills above Adam’s precious city gave me enough cover to remain unnoticed. The view from my vantage point was spectacular; the forest gave way to the city, and the steep and wondrous hills led out to the bay. The city was calling to me, begging me to act. I knew what it needed; just like Atlantis, I would send this city back into the depths of the ocean.

  My gift was ready; I had spent most of the night clearing my mind of any thoughts except the task ahead. The power was coursing through me, amplified by my hate. The feeling was electric, every part of me quivered with anticipation. Thoughts of vengeance anchored my resolve. When the spell started, Adam would be able to track me, and he would try and stop the inevitable. If he reached me too soon, I might fail, but the city would still stand in ruins. I had come too far to fail; only death would stop me now. A smile spread across my face and laughter filled the dark places in my heart.

  Dropping to my knees, I forced my arms deep into the earth. The pull of the land called out to my gift, and I sent my mana flowing through it. The search for the plates in the earth that would accomplish my goal had begun. If I found what I was looking for, one little shift would start a reaction even Adam could not stop. I could feel the gentle tick of death’s clock at my back. If he found me first, I would die without my revenge.

  I lost myself in the earth, searching, reaching ever farther out into the city and beyond into the bay. The doubt started to creep in, but I mercilessly crushed it down. There was no time for self-doubt now. When I found the keystone, I had to be ready to act. I felt a tiny crack. It was farther out at sea than I would have expected. I forced my magic into it, slowly widening the crack into a gap between the two stones. When the gap was large enough, I sent all of my focused rage to that single point, and the crack it made sealed the city’s fate.

  Even here, well outside of the city, I felt the ground tremble as the power of the earth was released. It was as if Zeus himself had thrown a bolt into the center of the city, and now we were shaking in its thunder. The trees swayed and crashed to the forest floor behind me. The tremors continued, and I watched the first of the buildings fall. I could see the start of fires now; the flames licked at the wooden buildings, jumping between them faster than I had thought possible. Smoke started to fill the horizon, and I felt a sense of pride as what I had planned for so long started to unfold. There was a certain sense of poetic symmetry to it. Once I had burned a town to ash to save the people of England, and now I burned another to satisfy my lust for revenge.

  The glow from the city filled the early morning sky with light. The smoke tried to hide the destruction below, but I could feel it from where I stood. The city cried out with one voice as it fell into ruin, and I bathed in the cries of their misery. I was only saddened by the fact that the city had not toppled back into the ocean as I had hoped. Then, something unexpected was happening; the fires spread at a deadly pace as the gas lines u
nder the city exploded. Adam had earned this punishment over five hundred years ago, and now his city was being cleansed by flames.

  Brushing the dirt from my arms, I stood and then wiped the soft pine needles from the knees of my pants. As I walked toward my jacket I rolled my sleeves down over my dirty arms and buttoned my shirt. My jacket had fallen to the ground during the quake. A few cursory wipes, and it was presentable once again. There was no reason not to attempt to look your best when facing one’s enemies. I was sure by now that Adam was already on his way. I stood proud of what I had accomplished and watched the city fall into further chaos.

  Watching the city from above had proven to be an excellent idea when a small dot flew up from below, etching a hole in the smoke hanging over the city. Like a bird, he flew toward me. I was impressed; I had never seen the gift used in such a way before. A cloud of dust washed over me as he crashed to the ground in front of me. As the dust started to clear, an imposing figure walked toward me. It was Adam; he had finally come.

  He looked down on me with disdain reflected in every one of his features. He said only my name, “Edward.”

  Still smiling, I dropped down to my knees in front of him, lacing my fingers together and placing them behind my head. I knew Adam would never kill me in cold blood; he had buried that side of himself long ago. “It’s nice to see you again, old friend.”

  I watched the hate build in his eyes; for just a moment, I thought I had miscalculated and he would kill me anyway. The silent second filled my head with doubt, and then he spoke to me again. “I wish that I could say the same.”

  He flicked his hand toward me, and I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, I had been placed in a cell. I felt the dampness of the stone around me creeping into my bones. I wondered just where he had spirited me away to this time. There was a strange feeling in this place; then it hit me full force. I could no longer feel my gift. Another thing he had managed to take from me. I felt naked without my magic to guide me, without access to my power. The first part of my plan had worked. All I had to do now was wait, and that was something I had a lot of practice with.