MILLENNIUM (Descendants Saga)

by James Somers

  “Now would be good time to get us out of here,” Redclaw suggested.

  The water came up over the dais where they were standing.

  “Anytime now!” Redclaw insisted.

  Laish stood still, unconcerned, almost bored.

  “The water?”

  “You didn’t say the magic word.”

  “I’m no wizard!” Redclaw protested.

  “Please, you big oaf,” Laish replied, snapping his fingers. A swirl of light lifted them from the dais as water swept up over the marble tiles. A moment later they were gone, following the masses already gathered in London.

  Tidus, the sacred city of the Lycans, remained. But not for long. Water flooded every street. Shifting earth toppled every building. Left to the chaos of the cherubim’s influence, Tidus was swept into utter darkness and ruin.

  Alois

  Herr Hitler walked through the village of Braunau from the local customs office where he served as manager over nearly a dozen agents. He enjoyed his position, finding it not only adequate for the care of his family, but also very satisfying. He felt great pride at having a position that afforded him the respect of the local people.

  Just today, he and his officers had seized illegal freight coming through from Bavaria. He may not have been particularly well liked in the community, but he still had their respect as an official. And, to Alois Hitler, that mattered most.

  He paused along the way home at one of the local taverns, as was his custom. Dinner would be prepared when he arrived at home and not before. Klara and the children would not complain of his being late. They knew better than to complain.

  After nearly three hours spent drinking in the pub and carousing with a young barmaid there, Alois followed his few friends out the door into the waning amber of a twilight sky. Truth be told, quite a few husbands spent their after work time in the taverns. After a few hours they would finally head home to their families. The wives had learned these routines so well that many had dinner waiting hot for their husbands when they strolled through the door.

  Alois meandered down the lane toward home, humming a tune now that he had alleviated the stress from another days work through hard drink. Passing into the shadows of a tenement house, Alois heard footsteps on cobblestones. He turned, but there was no one behind him. He waited before turning to continue.

  “Hello, Alois,” Lucifer said, standing right in front of him where there had been no one before.

  Alois backed away a few steps, startled by the angel’s appearance on the street where anyone might see. He looked around cautiously, wondering if someone might be watching from their window. He found no curious onlookers.

  “They cannot see me,” Lucifer said.

  The angel appeared in a black suit—something that was fashionable in large cities. No one in a village setting, like Braunau, bothered with such finery. It was too costly and impractical for small town life. As for Alois, he enjoyed wearing his official uniform nearly everywhere he went. His formality served to remind his neighbors of his position.

  “My lord,” Alois said, bowing slightly.

  “The time has come to do me the favor you promised,” Lucifer said.

  Alois trembled visibly as he straightened. “What would you have me do?” he asked.

  “There is a woman coming to Braunau,” he said. Alois’s interest piqued immediately. “She is a sprite by the name Anai.”

  Alois’s trembling returned. “A sprite?” he asked.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “It’s just that they are known to bewitch men’s minds, make them do things to themselves against their will.”

  “She is coming at my behest,” Lucifer said. “She will conduct herself appropriately. Her son is very important to my plans.”

  Alois became alarmed again. “She has a child?”

  “Adolf is eleven years old,” Lucifer said. “Problem?”

  “A child is a big responsibility,” Alois explained. “I already have children.”

  “That can change quickly,” Lucifer noted.

  Alois stopped speaking.

  “As I said, the child is very important to my plans,” Lucifer continued. “His mother will care for him. You need only to provide them shelter and the basic necessities. That ability you owe to me anyway, so I’m sure you won’t have an issue with this arrangement. Not if you wish to hold onto your position in the custom’s office.”

  Alois did not answer. His silence was therefore taken as acquiescence.

  Lucifer turned slightly to go before hesitating. “There is one other thing,” he said, grinning darkly at Alois. “Your wife will almost certainly be a problem. Wouldn’t you say, Alois?”

  Alois considered it momentarily, thinking he was following his master’s train of thought. Perhaps, Lucifer now saw that this situation was untenable. Alois was married. He couldn’t possibly have another woman and her child living in his home. What would people think?

  Nodding, Alois said, “You’re right, master. It would never work.”

  “I thought as much,” Lucifer said, sighing. “You’ll have to kill her and dispose of the body.” Lucifer turned to go, strolling down the road. “You already have two wives in the cemetery, Alois. Doubling up in one of their graves shouldn’t be a problem. Anai will assume her appearance and identity.”

  Alois Hitler remained on the road, standing with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. He had no words. He could not safely brook any complaint.

  Somewhere along his way, the angel vanished into the darkness. Alois swallowed hard against the lump gathering in his throat. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply and then letting it go.

  His relationship with Klara had begun while he was still married to his first wife. Anna had been fifty years old when he married her. The wife of a fellow customs official, she had been sickly for their entire marriage.

  She had passed while he was having an affair with Fanni, who would become his second wife. A lung disease had eventually taken her as well. Klara, his current wife, was actually his niece. Sometimes, she even called him uncle, though never in public.

  Alois straightened. His resolve hardened within him. He had worked too hard for what he had. No one was going to risk his livelihood and his respect among his peers. God had already taken two wives from him. What was one more added to that number? Sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices had to be made.

  By the time preparations had been made, Alois found himself coming home another two hours after he had originally intended. His wife, careful not to neglect his care, was still waiting up for him. She appeared at the door to their bedroom in a cotton nightgown, when he walked into the house.

  She noticed his awkward appearance immediately. “You’re covered in mud,” she said.

  Alois fidgeted where he stood. His prodigious mustache bristled. “Where are the children?” he asked.

  “In bed, of course,” she answered. “I had to feed them eventually.” She looked him up and down again. “I can fix you something.”

  “No,” he replied quickly. The door was still open behind him, the damp of night filtering into the living room. “Klara, I need your help with something.”

  “What is it?”

  He did not answer.

  “Alois?”

  “I don’t want to wake the children at this late hour,” he answered. “Come with me. It won’t take long.”

  She hesitated.

  “Oh, all right,” he said. “It’s a matter of some delicacy. Someone has desecrated one of the graves on the hill.”

  “The cemetery?”

  “It’s a child’s grave,” he said. “I didn’t want the parents to get wind of it. So, if we could just deal with this quietly, they won’t need to know.”

  Klara stared at him for a moment longer, deciding. Alois put on his best melancholy. Finally, she nodded.

  “Just let me get my cloak,” she said.

  Minutes later, Alois and his wife were walking down the co
bble lane and then up the path into the village cemetery. Klara walked behind while Alois led the way with the lantern and a shovel in his hand. They made their way steadily between the head stones along the pea gravel paths.

  Finally, they came to the one grave that had been disturbed. The earth had been piled up beside it. Alois stood beside with the lantern at his side.

  “Whose child is it?” Klara asked, stepping up to the grave where darkness shadowed the head stone’s identity.

  “See for yourself,” Alois said, handing her the lantern.

  Klara took it, holding it before her so that it shone on the head stone. “Anna?”

  She turned to Alois. The shovel came down heavy upon her skull with a sickening crack. Klara collapsed at once, falling down into the open grave of Alois’s first wife, Anna. The lantern fell to the ground, cracking the bell and extinguishing the light.

  Alois wasted no time. Someone might have seen the lantern floating among the head stones. Superstition would only keep an investigation away for so long. He had to be quick.

  Using the shovel, he moved the dirt back into the grave. Klara’s corpse lay on the top of Anna’s coffin. He shoveled the earth over her without considering what he had just done to the mother of his children. Lucifer’s threat had been clear.

  Fifteen minutes later, Alois was heading back toward home. He looked more ragged than ever now. His clothes were covered in earth. He had no idea what he would tell the children when they woke to find their mother missing.

  Coming into his house, he took off his clothes and stuffed them into the wood stove. Alois put on his nightgown and sat in his chair near the stove, listening to the crackle of the fire burning within. He was a murderer now, but he hoped to put it out of his mind.

  He stared out the window toward the graveyard on the hill. It was a cloudless night. The moon stared back at him, like the eye of God, reminding him of his guilt.

  Seizure

  The smell of the library was the first familiar thing I noticed when we arrived at our estate in Highgate. My portal had delivered us through the fireplace I had often used in order to travel to various places. I was glad to walk out of the hearth with my wife and daughter and Cole safely by my side.

  The house was dark. I waved my hand, and the wall sconces ignited all over the manor. Warmth and light returned.

  “We should check on everyone else,” I said.

  “Something to eat would be good before we have to go into London,” Sophia said.

  A knock came at the front door downstairs. My wife and I looked at one another. This was odd.

  “Who would know we were going to be here?” she asked.

  “Stay with the children,” I said and then teleported from the library to the foyer.

  I saw a number of lantern lights outside the slender windows running beside the front door. A group of people on my estate. This couldn’t be a good thing. It was unlikely that any of the others had come here right away.

  Opening the front door confirmed my suspicions. These weren’t Descendants at all. A group of British soldiers had arrived at the house. They were armed. The lieutenant standing at the door with a piece of paper in his hand didn’t look to be the bearer of good news.

  “What’s this all about?” I asked, trying not to seem belligerent. The last thing we needed with this mass exodus into the human world was trouble with the law.

  “This property and all of its contents has been seized by the state,” the lieutenant said, looking smug. “I’ve got an order here signed by Prime Minister Gladstone himself.

  He waved the rolled parchment around as he spoke. “You want me to read it?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “You realize this is an illegal action, right?”

  “This piece of paper makes it legal,” the lieutenant reiterated. “Refugees have been pouring into our city. You’re one of them, as I understand it.”

  “I’m a citizen of the British Empire,” I said. “This is my home.”

  The lieutenant smirked when I said this. “Not anymore,” he said.

  “Brody, what’s happening?” Sophia called from the foyer behind me. Sadie stood by her on one side, Cole on the other, both wrapped safely in her arms. I could see the sparkle of luminescence in their eyes—a sign that werewolves were preparing to transform and attack. Cole remained stoic. He had been this way since learning that Charlotte had not survived.

  I couldn’t let this escalate. After all that we had just been through, I didn’t want my family in danger anymore. “It’s all right, Sophia,” I said, hoping to sound reassuring. “There’s just been a misunderstanding.”

  “You can tell that to the prime minister,” the lieutenant said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve got orders to have you vacate the premises and come with me to the prime minister’s office in White Hall.”

  Several soldiers stepped up beside the lieutenant to emphasize his point. They held rifles in their hands. I briefly considered fighting them. After all, I knew it would be a small matter to dispense with these human soldiers. Even doing so without harming them would be a small matter.

  However, something bigger was going on here, and I had to find out what. Donatus and Laish would be with the other refugees. Most of the Breed had been set to leave for Russia. The climate was good for them, and they were familiar with Charlotte. Her passing wouldn’t be known for some time. They could deal with the local government leaders whom Charlotte had set under her.

  Here in London, it appeared there was going to be a problem. Maybe even a big problem. Gladstone was an elf spell caster of considerable ability. He had come from Xandrea where Donatus had ruled. Perhaps, with Donatus leading this discussion, they might come to some resolution without bloodshed.

  The last thing I wanted was a war with the humans. Their weaponry was growing more sophisticated, but still paled in comparison with the abilities of Descendants. Even the less gifted among us were faster and stronger in hand to hand combat than a human—though few had the power of a Superomancer or spell caster.

  Werewolves, of whom there were a great many now in London, were ferocious combatants. They didn’t need spells and telekinesis. Their stealth, strength and natural weapons, namely razor sharp teeth and claws, were deadly enough. This entire situation could quickly turn into a bloodbath. I couldn’t let it happen.

  “Please, lieutenant, lead on,” I said.

  He turned and walked toward one of the wagons they had waiting on the drive. Sophia, Sadie and Cole joined me as we followed the lieutenant. Armed soldiers flanked us on either side. Others, who had been standing by, entered our home as we walked away.

  This was terribly insulting, but there was nothing good that could be accomplished apart from cooperation with the authorities. The apostle’s words came to mind. Believers must obey the government set over them by God. For a time, Sophia and I had been the heads of government in Tidus. But this was London, England.

  Cole and I helped the ladies into the back of the wagon. We hopped in after, taking our seats next to them on the floor of the wagon’s bed. Several soldiers got in after us. They glared at us cautiously. Apparently, we were considered a threat.

  The lieutenant climbed up and sat on the passenger side of the bench seat next to the driver. “Let’s go,” he commanded.

  The driver snapped the reins lightly on the horses, and we started down the pea gravel drive. Sophia and I looked back at the manor house. By the gas light, we could see silhouetted soldiers rummaging through our home. Still, we gritted our teeth against the urge for violence. We would speak to Gladstone. Surely, he would be reasonable.

  Aftermath

  Black stood across the road from the situation transpiring in Hyde Park. Hundreds of British soldiers, if not thousands, were attempting to contain a swelling tide of refugees who had appeared at various places in the city following the breakup of their homes in the spiritual realm. Apparently, Gladstone had taken his advice.


  He watched in the early morning sun as both Donatus and Laish were escorted away from the crowd gathered in the park. A tent city of sorts had sprung up since yesterday. How delicious to see these fools forced to dwell in such squalid conditions. They had enjoyed the height of power on the spiritual plane, coming into the human world like royalty at their leisure. Not anymore.

  The two elder elves were loaded into a wagon with an officer and an armed escort. “How very appropriate,” Black whispered delightedly.

  The wagon with the elves drove away toward White Hall. Presumably, they would be attending a little face to face with Gladstone this morning. Black wondered if Brody would be among them. Surely, he and his family, if they had survived, were already in London somewhere, possibly in Highgate.

  He would have liked to see them take away the boy’s home at Hampstead Heath. But time was precious. He had other business to attend to at the moment. He still had a mortal host to contend with and that host stood in danger, so long as Lucifer was about plotting.

  Black turned, strolling through the gathering crowd of pedestrians and bystanders. They were curious and, in some cases, outraged by the multitude of refugees who had suddenly appeared in their fair city. Where had all of these interlopers come from? Many wondered, but they were at least glad to see that their beloved prime minister appeared to be dealing with the situation.

  He vanished from the crowd without anyone paying any attention. Where he had been standing upon the streets of London a moment ago with early morning moisture hanging like a chill in the air before a rising sun, now he found himself within a ruined place. Sandstone buildings lay toppled over. Marble edifices had been dashed to pieces and scattered. Everywhere there was destruction on a scale unknown to the spiritual realm. Tidus had the appearance of a child’s block-built city that has been knocked down by a tremendous tantrum.