by M K Drake
“And what is your focus, Loki?” Olof asks, knowing that the Norse god’s arrogance may actually be grand enough to cause him to reveal his plans.
Loki smiles. “I have many, all leading to a single outcome. My current focus is to build re-enforcements,” Loki turns to the Kraken, raises an arm and speaks out loudly. “Join me Titan! As I aided you in this battle, I will help you gain freedom from the shackles of Olympus, Tartarus, Asgard, and Helheim… if you fight for me.”
The Kraken looks down towards Loki and his demons, and then to the Majjai, before roaring loudly and beating his chest in defiance. He nods at the Norse god before diving back beneath the water’s surface, sending a large wave to the shore, splashing violently onto the Majjai, who are still stuck motionless.
Loki beckons Alvarez and Scourge to leave, and waits for them to disappear through a portal he manifests ahead of them. He closes it once they are through and returns his attention to his prisoners.
“Why don’t you just end this? You are toying with us for what? Your own twisted sense of enjoyment?” General Crawford demands, trying not to reveal that, while Loki has been disposing his words, he has been in constant contact with a certain calamitous duo. Words, only audible to him, ring in his ears.
“Don’t worry General!” Colin’s voice crackles into the hidden earpiece. “The Knights are on their way, just hang on for a few more minutes!”
Loki stares directly at the General, almost knowingly. “The deal I made with Alvarez was for Mage Callan only. It was his… fee. I have other plans for the Majjai Six and its aides.”
“You are a disgrace to the Norse ways!” shouts Olof. “Thor and Odin will learn of your actions. They cannot approve!”
“Ha! Oh, Olof. You are so insignificant. You think you are truly worthy of wielding my brother’s trinkets?” Loki stretches out a bony finger and pokes Olof’s chest. “You shame him. You shame your heritage. It is you who has forgotten the Norse ways, of who you really are. Odin was a bringer of war, not peace... and yet, you adore him. You offer nothing of worth to any of them.”
“He has more heart than you could ever even imagine!” Joyce rises to Olof’s defence. “We know who we are, and we know what we stand for! You’re the one who is on the wrong side. And we will beat you, and Razakel!”
Loki chuckles. “See Olof, this little trinket has more, how do you humans say… spunk? Spirit?”
He walks over to Joyce and Safaya. “Joyce, my dear. I truly look forward to watching you die. Because this will be the beginning of the end of all things. Your demise is written, and Atticus will fall because of it. It will be glorious when it happens,” he turns to Safaya before continuing. “And you, Princess, you spite your protector, but you should be careful. My daughter has your love marked.”
Safaya growls. “What do you mean? He has recovered!”
“Ah, again, you are all so blind!” Loki steps back, and begins to prepare another portal. “Why do you think Hel sent you here? Truly? There are other seals.”
The Majjai look towards one another, confused at the statement.
“Tut tut. Do not worry, I will tell you,” Loki prances around gleefully, eager to dampen the Majjai spirits further. “The Kraken. She was angered that she had to release the beast from her grasp. He was one of her most prized possessions, a Titan, coveted by Hades. Obviously, she is unable to bring down the beast herself, so she sent you to do her dirty work. You win, she wins. You lose… well, let’s just say the greater prophecies remain intact with your demise. The Proteus Eternal will carry on his journey, and the big plan continues.”
“What big plan?” General Crawford demands, knowing his Knights of Valhalla are getting closer.
“Oh, I think I’ve told you all more than enough. And, as we are about to have some guests. It is a good time for me to leave you. Goodbye!” Loki completes opening the portal and jumps through.
As the portal closes, and the Majjai are finally released from Loki’s grasp, several objects hurl upwards from the water and land on the rocky surface. They stretch, looking warily towards the new arrivals.
“Don’t worry,” says General Crawford. “They are with me. You might recognise some of them.”
Olof watches as the figures, garbed in some sort of intricately designed metallic armour, with golden pipe-lighting and carrying advanced weaponry, begin to secure the area. “The Knights of Valhalla? Your soldiers?”
General Crawford nods. “Indeed. But we can go into details later. We must leave this place.”
Olof nods. “Yes, we have to get back to the manor.”
“The Manor?” General Crawford forgets for a moment, as a soldier, the mission is everything. Mourning for those that have fallen on the battlefield can happen when the job is done. It doesn’t take long for him to realise that the others are not used to this. They do not lose, they have not learned to cope with true loss. He sighs softly to himself, lowers his shoulders and nods solemnly. “You’re right, Hel can wait!”
The Scrolls of Kazmagus: Catalogue Translation ID 302.19: The Broken Void
Ehsaan returned from his journey, but he was not the same. His words were twisted, they did not make sense:
“They are them, and they are many, with their toys. They watch over us like pets, but we know the truth. We know the lies. The stench of their words fester amongst the good of mankind. For they are not men, they whisper with demons to bring their world upon us. Be wary of they. Be wary of them. Be wary of him.”
Mad words, and when asked the next morning what he had been rambling about, he was silent. He warned us that the Void is troubled.
I spoke with the elders, they suspect that what we heard was not Ehsaan at all, but the voice of the Void. If this is true, we need to investigate more.
The Void has been a friend, questions of its sentience have been posed, and if what the elders suggest is true, it has now been proven. We need to treat this friend with more respect, we have poisoned it with our criminality. With demons of old, with Warlocks and evil Majjai , and still it is trying to warn us of something else. We need to find out who this ‘him’ is.
For now, the Void can be at peace, for without Kazmagus to summon it, we have no way to open it. Ehsaan may well have found a way; I hope he is able to recover to tell us if he did.
I am also concerned with those that whisper with demons. Traitors amongst us? The elders were quite dismissive of this. I do wonder sometimes if they truly serve humanity and the Majjai. I think I may begin my own secret council. Ehsaan will certainly be the first to join it.
Chapter 17
The Fall of the Fallen
“You were warned Atticus!” Khan shouts angrily. “You used the Gift of Insight again didn’t you? For what purpose?”
Atticus gets up slowly, still groggy from delving into Professor Morgan’s mind. He wobbles slightly, regaining his stability by steadying himself against the table he was just laying on. “I needed to find out more about what Elric and the Professors are hiding, so… I joined with Professor Morgan.”
Khan shakes his head. “Brother, you know you should not be using this ability. It is an invasion, but more importantly, it delves into the darkness, into the ways of demon magic.”
“I didn’t have a choice! They are keeping things from me. From us. They are lying to us!” Atticus tenses, clenching his fists tightly, he can sense himself losing control, angered by all the secrecy.
“Oh Atticus, you speak as if we are on opposing sides. I will go with you, brother, to speak with Elric. Surely we can clear up all of this!” Khan reaches out a hand, hoping that Atticus will take it. “Now don’t, how do you people say, leave me hanging?”
Atticus smiles, Khan’s attempt at humour is always entertaining, whether it is funny or not. However, deep down, an inkling tingles his conscience, one that knows Khan is also right. What is he doing, mistrusting those who have brought him this far? Elric and the others are not his enemy—has he gone too far in his quest for answers? A
tticus ponders this for a moment, until all of a sudden, he begins to feel something else. Something lost.
He looks towards Khan. Atticus is filled with a fear that he has felt once before, at the time when his mother passed. His thoughts rush to Joseph, but he senses a strong presence there. Then to Joyce, the feeling there is one of extreme grief, but she is alive. Who has fallen? He begins to shake, trying to reach out to find answers.
“What is it Atticus?” Khan asks, seeing the sadness and concern within his friend.
“Something has changed. Someone has…”
Before Atticus can finish, Professor Sprocking crashes through the door, opening it forcefully. “There you two are! Come, quickly, something…” His voice quivers, unable to say the words he wants to. The professor gathers himself before continuing. “We need to go to Elric’s chamber, everything will be clear then.”
“What has happened?” Atticus asks.
Professor Sprocking shakes his head. “My dear boy, things have not been kind. It is best we get to Elric and the others.”
Atticus quickens his pace to keep up with the Professor. He can hear Khan behind him, obviously still affected by his injury, the façade his friend throws up to hide the pain does not fool him. He knows Khan too well, how he moves, how he fights, how he speaks. Although his friend talks strong words, Atticus knows the truth. He tries to mediate the speed at which they are walking, so Khan can stay with them, but he often forgets, his thoughts drifting between his injured Majjai brother in arms and whatever incident has occurred that they rush to discover.
As they get closer he senses that Joseph is in the Manor. “My dad, he is here?” directing his question to the Professor.
“Yes, he is. Olof contacted him. It is important.”
As they continue their walk, Atticus tries to avert his thoughts from the possible nightmare ahead of him by steadying his breathing. Each intake of breath draws in the strange but now familiar remnants of ash and smoke from the stone walls. Atticus has always wondered why the walls smell this way, thinking that it was as if the energy used to create them still burns inside.
He is distracted by noises down the corridor. Other Majjai students are still in school, rushing from one lesson to the next. Their chatter fills his ears. He tries to filter it out, trying to find a peaceful moment in his thoughts, but it is too much. As they get closer to their destination, his heart beats harder, more forcefully. He can’t work out if it is from the fear of the news that is waiting, or the distracted pace at which they are walking. Passing a window, he looks outside at the non-Majjai areas of the school. Watching the students there play without care, without worry, apart from those normally encountered at their ages. What if they knew, the Normals? What if they had an inkling of the wonders and the horrors that co-existed with them...
These thoughts occupy his troubled mind, as the mark of the Majjai on his forearm begins to tingle and bite. He feels the sorrow and can see Khan’s own mark begin to glow, too. This behaviour usually only occurred when one of the Six was going through great pain.
At the same time, he notices his friend’s emotions change. Atticus is beginning to find this even easier. This latest dance with the Gift of Insight seems have to awakened his senses, allowing him to tap into the emotions of others, not only around him, but further away. How can a power like this be perceived as dark when it leads to being able to empathise more? And, in turn, help more?
Atticus senses Khan’s thoughts immediately defer to Safaya, so he reaches out, to see if he can sense the Princess. It doesn’t take long, and he himself is comforted to sense she is well. “Safaya is okay, she is with the others.”
Khan nods, and Atticus instantly feels his friend’s tension lessen. He is also quietly pleased that both of his Majjai companions are too distracted to comment on his new empathic power.
But then, he realises something else, he has accounted for almost all of them. Pali and Ju Long never left the Manor. He wonders if such raw emotion from Professor Sprocking would be ignited by the death of General Crawford, but dismisses it, feeling the imbalance on the Majjai side, not the human. He stops walking, as the realisation hits him, and without thinking, he increases his pace, walking faster, not realising he has started to run, his heart beating so hard now, faster, harder. Memories flash before him, of lessons from a teacher who, away from family, has been a second father to him. It can’t be, it mustn’t be. He snaps into his speed ability, forgetting those walking with him, and storms through the doorway to Elric’s chamber.
He looks around frantically; he sees his dad, then Joyce sitting, in tears, with Safaya comforting her. Pali is comforting Ju Long, Time suddenly stays still, Atticus doesn’t even notice Professor Sprocking and Khan enter the chamber behind him. Elric stands, head down, with Professor Morgan whispering things into his ear, nodding as if replying to his comments.
“No!” shouts Atticus. “No!”
He drops to his knees hard, his shoulders fall, his school robes blanket his legs as the sharp pain of loss stabs him again. His gut feels hollow, and his eyes water, stinging them. Clenching his fists, he tries to control his anger. He feels his power turn, the pain of loss triggering something, the same white energy power that he felt when Razakel killed his mother. He feels it coursing through his veins, hatred, love, loss, the imbalance almost creates an equilibrium of thought, of understanding. Then the pain returns.
“What happened?” he demands, not caring about the others any more, their loss, it doesn’t compare. They did not know Mage Callan as well as he did, they were not protected by him. Even in their last moments together, Mage Callan stood by Atticus’s side when the other Professors were colluding, keeping secrets. He knows it.
Joseph walks over and places his large, comforting hand on Atticus’ shoulder. He helps his son to his feet and embraces him in a reassuring hug. “It’s okay my boy, he would not want you to be like this. He would want you to be strong. To have courage. He would want you to use this the right way.”
Atticus puts his arms around his father, squeezing him back tightly. He takes in the words, and calms himself, finding a semblance of peace and truth in them. With an effort, he turns the anger into focus, into purpose. “What happened?” he asks, more calmly than before.
“It was Loki,” General Crawford says, the loss still too great for any of the Majjai to comment. “Along with Alvarez and Scourge. They beat us and allowed the Kraken to…”
“The Kraken?” asks Atticus.
“Yes,” replies the General, curious about the tone Atticus used in the question. “Why?”
Atticus lets go of his father, recalling something he noticed earlier. When he was joined with Professor Morgan, flashbacks of other scrolls begin to race through his mind. The language clearer in his head. Without indication, Atticus speeds away, running as fast as he can to the Tomb of Kazmagus.
Once inside Atticus hurries between the shelves, trying to find the one he needs; so lost in his quest he does not sense the portal opened by Elric to get everyone else there quickly. After a few seconds more he finds it, he turns and quickly asks the others. “Was Mage Callan alive when the Kraken attacked him?”
Olof, confused about where Atticus is going, answers warily. “Yes, he was alive when the beast consumed him. It swallowed him whole. Why do you ask?”
Atticus begins to read the ancient Sumerian language in front of him. “Since I was in the Professor’s head earlier…, I’ve been able to, well, understand things. These words.”
Atticus can see from the corner of his eye, Professor Morgan, looking sharply towards Elric, as if indicating a truth that has been vindicated; but he doesn’t care anymore, he has one thing on his mind. How to save Mage Callan. He rolls out the parchment vigorously. “See, here! The Fall of the Fallen! This is a forgotten Norse myth. It was Hel who sent you, and it was she that returned the Kraken, yes? I remember you mentioning this, Olof?”
Olof nods. “Yes, but, what does that have to do with an
ything?”
“And you said that the Kraken is not even a Greek Titan, he is of Norse lore! What if… Mage Callan is in Helheim? We can demand Hel return him!”
Olof shakes his head, looking at the others around the room. “Atticus, my friend, even if this were true, Mage Callan is not of Norse blood. His path to what lies beyond will not route him to Hel. And even if somehow you are right… Hel does not give up souls so easily.”
“Look!” Atticus points to the text in the scroll, achingly wishing others could read what he sees, then he remembers one other can. “Here, Professor Morgan, look! It says it here: ‘If a soul is taken by the actions of Helheim’s keeper, it belongs to Helheim.’” He looks hopefully towards the Professor, hoping that he will acknowledge what he has just revealed.
Professor Morgan cautiously walks over and reads the scroll, somewhat slower than Atticus was able to. He turns back to the other Majjai after finishing. “He is right. It is written as he said.”
Joyce, concerned that Atticus is not himself, questions him. “But how? How did you learn to read this so quickly?”
Atticus shrugs. “Look, it was wrong.” He turns to Professor Morgan, head down, knowing that the only way to earn favour back is to be truthful. “Professor Morgan, I am truly sorry. I was just…, confused. I felt you and Elric have not been completely truthful with me, and I didn’t know what else to do! I should not have used the Gift of Insight on you.”
Elric sighs. “My dear boy, there are… things we need to discuss. This is certain. But your actions concern me greatly.”
Atticus bows his head solemnly. “I know… but you know what else I know? I know that Mage Callan would not let any of us down. He would not stand down. He would not give in. He would not pause for thought, he would be there, finding a way to save any of us. He would dive into the depths of the worst of realms. He would brave the chasms of Hell for all of you, for me… the least we can do for him is walk into it!”