Immortal Genesis

by Kevin D. Blackmon

  “Hmm.”

  Overhead, Stink’s wings were decaying to the point that she struggled to stay aloft. Her wings then began beating out of unison, causing her to fly in circles. When she could fly no more, she fell right down on the book that the pretty elf was reading. She screamed, slammed the book shut on the zombie fairy, and pushed herself back from the table.

  “OH!” I flinched.

  “Did you see it?” she asked. “It was hideous.”

  I smiled and explained softly, “Sometimes you have to be upside down to see the beauty in things.”

  A smile began to break across her face, and she slowly opened her book to find the fairy’s broken corpse. “Oh, I didn’t mean to kill it.” She covered her nose and turned her face away. “Ew! The stink.”

  I stood up and reached over the table. I carefully scooped up the dead fairy into my hands. “I called her that, too,” I admitted, examining the broken body, “but her name in life was Wink. She was cursed with a disease by a witch while freeing her kin from cages.”

  “My goodness.”

  With Stink’s body draped over my left hand, I bit into the cheek of my right and squeezed a few drops of blood onto the fairy. Her flesh began to heal, so I placed her gently on the table and licked my wound closed.

  After a moment, Stink was able to stand. It wasn’t enough blood to heal her completely but enough for her to regain mobility. She stretched and twisted to align her broken limbs.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” the elf apologized to Stink but received no response.

  I shook my head. “Don’t expect forgiveness, for Stink is neither alive nor dead.”

  “She is undead,” the elf said, surprising me that she knew. “I like the name Wink much better than Stink even though she does,” she admitted with a cough.

  The fairy’s wings fluttered, and she rose from the table. Both, the elf maiden and I were happy to see Stink flying again.

  “So you’re learning necromancy to bring her back.”

  “To bring everyone back,” I revealed.

  She laughed. “That’s quite a lofty goal. You may be here for a very long time.”

  “I could use an assistant, if you’re interested,” I proposed to her with a charming smile.

  “Your assistant!” she laughed. “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “I’m me, and you are you,” I answered, pointing at her and then to myself. “What else do you need to know?”

  “But what is your name?” she pressed.

  Playfully acting as though she should already know, I raised my hands to the sky and said, “By Arethil’s beak!” I then bowed my head politely and introduced myself. “I am Ambros of Ashwood, born from Ambrosius, and once resident of the Light Elf city of Lylandria.”

  She returned the bow, answering modestly, “I am no one special, really, just Sylvia of Magestice.”

  “Oh, you are very special, more so than you know. What are you studying?” I asked to help her open up.

  Examining the book she was reading, she saw that the pages were sticky with coagulated blood from where she had slammed it shut on Stink. “Well, I was studying Life Magic, but…”

  “You’re hired!” I blurted out.

  “What if I decline?” she asked just as quickly.

  “You have to,” I pleaded. “I need your help.” Looking at Stink flying aimlessly between the shelves of books, I said, “If not for me, do it for Stink. Do it for the zombie fairies.”

  With that, she broke into laughter. “Okay. Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll be your assistant.”

  “Great! You won’t regret it,” I told her, standing from the table.

  “And what will I be doing exactly?” she asked a bit nervously. “Holding your cape?”

  For a moment, I thought how great it would be to wear one before answering, “I don’t have a cape, but if you’ll hold it for me, perhaps I should make one.”

  Sylvia closed her book and stood from her chair, saying, “Then perhaps we should get started.”

  “YES!” I exclaimed, clenching my fists in excitement. Snapping my fingers, a green cape instantly formed around my neck and rolled down to my feet. I turned away from Sylvia and kicked back, causing the cape to float out from me as I began to walk out of the library.

  Sylvia giggled. “This should be interesting.”

  We began by getting to know each other. We left the bustling temple to take an evening stroll through the city. We talked about our childhood, our family, and our friends. I knew she suspected I was undead, but I didn’t reveal to her that I was a vampire right away. For the next several months, we studied, tested, and worked. She wasn’t all that gifted in magic, but I knew I needed her.

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE ALLURE OF THE SUN

  It was late. Dawn would be coming soon. I paced the floor of my candlelit dwelling, trying to wrap my mind around the problem I knew must have a solution. I could hear music and laughter from outside where a festival was taking place.

  Magestice was an eventful city. Day and night, something was always happening, whether it was dinner parties, magic shows, or games. Sylvia told me that a small number of Woodland Elves grew tired of the busy city. They wanted a quieter life like the one described to them by Light Elves who had traveled there from Lylandria. Early one morning, they packed their bags and set out to build a new town to call home. They settled in a beautiful area to the south that they named Sungrove.

  As often as possible, Sylvia traveled to Sungrove to visit her best friend, Delwen, who had married and left with the group who settled there. I went with her a few times before growing bored of the trip. That’s where she was this particular night. She had been gone a week already, and I didn’t expect her back for another week.

  My research had consumed me. I often went for days without feeding. I felt I was so close to discovering the secret, I could smell it. Because I have difficulty remembering when events take place, Sylvia helped me transcribe and organize my memories along a timeline that she painted on my walls. She used pins and varying lengths of twine to connect notes to points along the timeline. There were so many notes that we ran out of room on the walls, so we had to pin pages to the ceiling. The floor, although free of paper, was covered in arcane symbols written in blood that had long since dried.

  “To truly bring someone back from the dead, I must reconnect their thoughts and memories to their body,” I repeated over and over to myself as I glanced over my countless notes while my mind worked toward a solution. “I can create a body, but their thoughts… Their thoughts…” I spotted a name written on a scrap of parchment that I had tacked to the wall. “Stenwick,” I read aloud. “Stenwick attempted to travel back in time to convince the elves from dividing during the Great Winter. He knew he couldn’t change the timeline, but perhaps he could create a new one from any point in history. Time isn’t just a measurement between events; it is a dimension that retains everything! Like my memories, they just need to be collected and reorganized on a new timeline!”

  I suddenly felt overwhelmed by the revelation. Combing my fingers through my hair, I began laughing that I finally discovered the missing piece of the puzzle.

  “Why did it take me so long? It seems so simple, now. I need some air.”

  I stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of the cool night air. The room that I lived in was on the second floor of one of the student homes. I could see many elves walking the dimly-lit streets. Groups played music while others dined together. There were some who shot lightning into the sky where it would then jump from cloud to cloud high above the city.

  Now that much of the stress had lifted, my stomach growled to remind me it had been empty for too long. I walked back into the house, out the door, and down the steps to venture into the forest for a late night snack. With so many magic users in this city, I wouldn’t dare attempt to feed on someone.

  “They would burn me at the stake!” I chuckled to myself. “I’m sure
I would make a delicious kabob, though.”

  I made my way through the busy streets to the edge of the city where I ran up a grassy hill into the forest. I had a path worn from where I’d gone out to set traps in a small clearing. The magic I had cast to trap a rabbit had already faded before catching anything. Checking the hole I had dug, I could see that the vegetables I baited the trap with was gone.

  “I need something more filling than a rabbit tonight, anyway,” I said while rubbing my aching tummy.

  Movement in the forest caught my attention. Between the trees, I could see a small deer with his eyes locked onto me. My heart rate quickened, and I felt my fangs lengthen with the anticipation of piercing its flesh and draining it dry. The deer darted through the forest to escape me. My sandals found traction in the packed soil, and I sped after it. Using a bit of elvish magic, I made a noise that got the young deer’s attention. It stood still in a moonlit clearing. When I reached the clearing, I immediately felt it.

  “Son of a witch!” I cursed myself.

  Looking at the ground, I saw that I was standing in a circle of small stones. The deer vanished; it was an elaborate illusion. I shook my head and laughed at my predicament. I began to hear someone applauding, but it sounded muffled. I then saw Byron rise out of the earth like a shadow taking shape and his clapping became clear.

  “Bravo, my boy! Bravo!” he congratulated. “You’ve fallen victim to your own trap. It’s quite a clever spell, I must say.”

  I punched the invisible barrier that surrounded me, causing a vibration that made it visible for a moment.

  “Once something steps into the circle, they cannot escape until the entrapment spell wears off,” he continued, walking around the circle of stones. Holding up a finger, he added, “But the real genius of this spell is that it cuts you off from using magic during the spell’s duration. It’s an entrapment layered with dispel.”

  Lightning crackled from his fingers, striking the barrier without penetrating it.

  I pointed at the stones encircling me. “What’s with all this? You mean to tell me, you had to enchant all these tiny stones to use for this entrapment spell?” I shook my head in disappointment. “You are no more than an amateur magician who I wouldn’t pay to entertain children,” I said to anger him.

  Byron stepped right up to the edge of my magical prison so that we were face to face. With him wearing Pop’s body, it was like I was looking at my future self, and, in a way, I was.

  “I am going to cast away this fragile shell and possess your immortal body. Your knowledge and power will be mine to command, but you, Ambros, you will be extinguished forever.”

  Motioning toward the space within the ring of stones, I said, “Come on in, buddy. There’s plenty of room in here for the two of us.”

  “No, thank you,” he smiled. “I think I’ll wait a few more minutes before I remove the spell.”

  Through the trees, I could see the darkness fading as dawn approached. A big smile spread across my face while popping my neck and fingers. “Well, I don’t have all night. How about we hurry this along?” I announced before digging a thumbnail into my palm. “You don’t have much time if you’re going to step into this body; it doesn’t like sunlight, you know.”

  I then wiped the thick blood that oozed from the wound onto the wall of my prison. As the blood ran down, it caused the spell to weaken, melting a hole.

  Our eyes were locked, waiting for the moment to strike. Byron’s fingers twitched with anticipation. Right when the stream of blood reached the ring of stones, the entrapment spell collapsed and Byron threw his hands out, launching black, ethereal chains to hold me. They wrapped around my left arm and right leg. I summoned a dagger with my bleeding hand, but I didn’t attack Byron. I spun the dagger around and plunged it into my own heart!

  “HAGH! HAGH!” Byron expelled a harsh laugh. “You’re making it too easy for me. Your blood will heal your wounds.”

  I, too, began to laugh as my blood was pulled into the ethereal realm through the dagger piercing my heart. “It is the blood that I’m destroying.”

  As my flesh began to shrivel, Byron realized what was happening. “NO, YOU FOOL!” he yelled, retracting the chains that bound me. “What are you doing?”

  I struggled to look upon the sun as first light broke through the trees. “I can hear it,” I announced. My legs became too weak to hold me up, so I eased myself to the ground. “The sun calls me home.”

  Without blood to slow its effects, rays of the sun burned away my flesh, leaving my bones to crumble to dust, yet, I watched it all unfold.

  “So that’s what death feels like. Let’s do it again.” My voice resonated strangely to me. I extended my hands and saw that they were made of fire.

  Byron watched as I rose above him, his face reflecting feelings of amazement and panic. “You found them! He will soon call upon me to command his armies. The world is doomed!”

  I took a deep breath, feeling my body grow hot. I exhaled, lowering my temperature to a level where I could take a more familiar form. I turned to the morning sun. I could feel its light permeate my skin. It felt like a warm fire on a cold night, calling me to come closer. Still floating a few feet above the ground, I turned away from the sun to find Byron kneeling before me.

  “I accept defeat,” he announced with his head bowed. “Your power has grown far beyond my own, Ambros of Ashwood. I would serve you, were I not bound to my master.”

  “Your master, Shadowrath, has not been freed,” I revealed to him. “Both he and Arethil are still confined to their dimensional prison. I was able to speak to Arethil briefly. She granted me a portion of her immense power so that I may continue the work she began eons ago.”

  “The world has changed much since the elder days. You will have to destroy everything before attempting to rebuild it,” Byron advised.

  Turning back to the sun, I told him, “I need time to think how best to use this power.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  Smiling, I answered, “Hope your master never escapes.”

  I flew through the forest at an unimaginable speed toward the morning sun. Tree limbs passed harmlessly through me. Leaving the forest behind, I sped through the atmosphere into space.

  I thought of Sylvia. She was still in Sungrove visiting her friends, Delwen and her husband. I stopped a moment to look back at the Earth. The view was stunning. The planet was a spinning, blue sphere with patches of white clouds encircling it. On the surface, I could see a tiny spark of light. I focused my eyes on the light, and with my knowledge of magic and newly gifted powers, I was able to see all the way to Delwen’s house and through its walls to see Sylvia sitting at a table talking to Delwen as she prepared breakfast. The light that I saw came from within Sylvia. I had passed onto her the same fire that Arethil passed to me. Feeling confident she will be fine, I continued my journey to the Sun.

  It took only moments to traverse the great distance to the fiery orb. I walked across its turbulent surface. Its blazing heat felt wonderful, so I plunged into its liquid depths.

  ACT III

  2011 AD

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE SON BECOMES THE FATHER

  “I understand, now, what Pop meant when he told me that I must recover his spirit from the blood,” Ambros said to Manius after finishing his tale.

  Everyone looked at Manius and then back to Ambros, unsure what was about to happen.

  Manius’ lips tightened and tears welled up in his eyes before finally speaking. “Ambros, I am sorry for everything I have done.” He brought his hands up to cover his mouth and he began sobbing. “I brought about the extinction of entire races and destroyed their history. I did . . . what I believed . . . was right.”

  Ambros stepped closer to hug him, and Manius collapsed into his arms, crying. “It’s all right,” Ambros consoled him. “It’s all right. You’ve done nothing to warrant an apology. You did what you had to do; what you were meant to do; what my father could no
t do. You completed the journey that Pop set you on millennia ago.”

  “Are you going to take away my power?”

  “I am going to take away your pain,” Ambros answered.

  He pulled Manius’ head to the side, exposing his neck. “How ‘bout we do this the old fashioned way?”

  Manius didn’t struggle, nor did he try to escape. He accepted his fate. Ambros opened his mouth and fangs extended before biting into his throat. We all waited quietly as the Dark Elf drank from him. I turned away, unable to watch. Seraphine took hold of my hand but said nothing.

  Ambros drained him to the point of death before gently passing his body to Vistilia. She eased him to the floor where she rested his head on her leg. She ran her fingers through his hair and looked at him lovingly.

  Manius’ eyes cracked open enough to focus on her. “I love you.”

  “I know you do,” she smiled. “I love you, too.”

  Ambros seemed to be meditating, standing perfectly still. “I can see them,” he whispered. “I can see them.” His eyes opened and a look of complete understanding washed over him. “Pop . . . I mean, I am a genius.”

  With a beaming smile, he told Sylvia, “We have work to do, my dear.” He raised a finger and said to the rest of us, “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Sylvia rushed over and threw her arms around him. A sphere of bright light formed around them, and they vanished.

  “Where are they off to in such a hurry?” I wondered.

  Manius’ eyes closed, and he stopped breathing. Vistilia leaned over and kissed him. When she pulled away, I saw a hint of smoke rise from his mouth. His lips turned black, and a spark of fire began burning away his flesh. His chest burst into flames, but Vistilia didn’t push away his body. She wasn’t harmed by the fire. His flesh burned away, revealing a body of golden light within. His bones crumbled to dust across Vistilia’s lap, and the golden light appeared to solidify, taking Manius’ form. Opening his eyes, he breathed deeply. A flash of fire lit his pupils before returning to normal.