by C. J. Strong
“There is one final requirement for the ritual to be completed that I have failed to mention. In order to save life, one must give up life! I name Andrum as my successor,” Bandell said as the entire castle began to shake and tears rolled down her face.
“What?! Please… No, don’t do it!” both Ashurd and Styir shouted as Andrum felt a strong sense of panic.
“I’m sorry, but sacrifices must be made. Andrum, I have known you since you were a child,” Bandell said. “You still are a child,” she paused. “But your father was the greatest Head there ever was. My wish is that you can surpass even him…” she said as her hands began to slip from the Sacred Scroll. “Let this end the Infection once and for all!” Andrum had no idea what was going on, and felt helpless as he continuously bashed his hands against the magik barrier that kept him stuck in place.
An enormous flash of light exploded through the room as both the Sacred Scroll and Bandell disappeared through the portal just before it closed. The shaking calmed and the brightness slowly faded away. Pure silence struck the room as the aura of smoke and chaos dissipated. With the ritual complete, the seal surrounding each individual had broken. Andrum opened his eyes to see the podium in front of him split in half. After a moment’s pause, he quickly rushed to Uriella’s aide.
“She’s going to be alright. She’s going to be alright! ...Right?” Andrum said as he held the weltered old lady in his arms, hoping that the Infection was no more.
“I don’t know sonny,” Ashurd said as he shook his head.
Styir walked over to Andrum and leaned down comforting him. “But we’re going to be alright. As long as we have a good leader, like yourself.” Andrum sure didn’t feel like a leader in this moment, but he had to hand it to her—Bandell sure knew how to make a point.
Andrum looked up wiping away the tears. “Nothing can live up to our last one.”
Chapter 2
His name was Gallagher White. An orphaned child who grew up in the slums of Los Angeles. He had short dark hair and not an ounce of fat on his bones. His face was just beginning to grow peach fuzz and popping acne was one of his favorite past times. He didn’t have many friends, but that’s only because he never stayed in school long enough to make any. An explorer by heart, he was always getting himself into trouble by wandering the city streets late at night. It was because of this curiosity however, that caused his whole life to change.
Gallagher awoke to flashing lights and sirens passing as he traditionally did. He was just a kid, but he already had trouble sleeping. Crawling out of the cardboard box he’d been calling home, he rubbed his eyes clearing his vision. The scratched watch that he had found in a nearby dumpster read 8:07PM. “Ahh another lovely night on the streets!” he said as he stretched out. I wonder if this hunk of junk is even accurate, Gallagher thought for a moment before he began to make his rounds through the neighboring streets. As the child poked around, opening trash lids and scaring off alley cats. Nope, no new garbage to rummage through tonight. He shook his head, wondering how he had found himself in this situation, able to recognize piles of garbage in an alley.
Just as he slammed the heavy garbage bin shut, a loud noise came from behind him. Curious as usual, he quickly hurried over to investigate. Creeping around the corner of the street, Gallagher saw the shadows of two men talking. Hopping behind a large stack of barrels and crates he hid. Who are they? He thought. They better not be pigs that Mother Baker sent out to get me again.
Gallagher inched closer, close enough to hear one of the men say “I’ll be back for it next week,” with the other responding “Alrighty then, sounds good to me,” in a surprisingly familiar voice. A flood of relief washed over Gallagher when he realized who it was. Moving to stand, he accidentally knocked over a few of the crates and the noise caused the pair to turn toward him.
“Gally! You over there?” Old Man Dave asked as he parted ways with the other man he was speaking to.
Quickly jumping into the street, Gallagher raced over to greet the older gentleman who was leaning on a cane. “What have you got for me tonight old man?”
“Well… let me see here,” Old Man Dave said as he squatted down in front of the boy. “Why don’t you come inside this time and you can pick out what you want?”
“No thanks ya creep! You know I don’t like the looks of the place,” Gallagher said. He watched the old man turn from him and struggle as he made his way up the steps and into a small building which had a neon sign that read “Dave’s Pawn Shop” on the side.
“An older gent came in earlier today and pawned this off…” he said as he reached over near the doorway for something. Gallagher stayed right where he was down below the steps, leaning one way and then another anxiously trying to see what the old man was grabbing at, while trying to avoid getting any closer to the pawn shop than he needed to.
“Was the guy older than you Old Man Dave?” Gallagher said, unable to keep the smirk off his face.
“No... I don’t believe so.”
“Ha, no one is.”
“Ah, here it is!” Dave said springing up. Blowing the dust off what was in his hands, he turned in the doorway towards Gallagher to reveal a book.
“What is it?” Gallagher said, feeling his excitement drain away.
“Why, it’s a book,” the old man said as he began to step out of the doorway. “I figured that you could borrow it for the time being. I haven’t opened it yet but I think it would be good for you to learn a few words.”
“Well, duh, obviously it’s a book, Old Man Dave, but since when is a book something I’d be interested in? How much did you loan him for that, you old fool?”
Gallagher said, stepping up the entrance way in order to get a closer look, his curiosity getting the better of his heebie jeebies.
“Well, it isn’t in very good shape…” Dave said as he tilted the book back and forth examining it. “And it seems to have a lock on the side. So I only lent him about $25.”
“Jesus! Why so much? You’ll probably never see that crook again. I’ll bet he hits up all the shops, dropping off useless junk for a quick buck. At least, that’s what I would do if I was him.”
“He was no conman I can tell ya that. The book is so old that it looks ancient. I’ll have to get an expert in to appraise it. But in the meantime, I figured you could use the edumacation,” Dave said as he pushed the book into Gallagher’s stomach.
“I don’t want it,” Gallagher said. “I quit school for a reason!” Although Gallagher enjoyed Old Man Dave’s gifts that he usually lent him, this one seemed a bit odd. He had a hunch that Miss Baker, the woman who ran the orphanage that he escaped from, had somehow put Old Man Dave up to this.
“You quit again? What did Miss Baker think of that?” Dave said before pushing his glasses in with his finger.
“Who cares? I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“You haven’t even returned home for a little snack?”
Gallagher shook his head as he snatched the book from the old man’s hands. “Fine, I’ll take it if you just leave me alone alright?” Gallagher agreed in order to steer the conversation away from further talking about school and the orphanage.
“Good, glad to hear it. Now wait here. I’ve got some bread just inside. Let me go grab some. I know it isn’t much, but…” the old man said as he turned and stepped back inside.
“No time, gotta go,” Gallagher said. In an instant, Gallagher was off. “Thanks for the book!” he yelled in passing as he turned back street by street heading for home. Maybe it won’t be so bad messing with this thing. At least it’ll be an adventure picking the lock and getting it open, He thought as he examined the book in greater detail. “It doesn’t even have a title on the cover…” Gallagher said to himself, shaking his head fondly at the lengths that old man would go to try to get him to better himself. He didn’t need bettering! He was fine just as he was. Gallagher glanced up from his reverie and stopped dead in his tracks.
A tall shadow loomed
in front of him. “Hey little booger breath,” the voice said, coming from Gallagher’s cardboard home. “I see you brought me something.”
“Back off Trevor!” Gallagher said as the large teenage boy crawled out and approached him. “It isn’t even mine okay…”
“You’re right,” the boy said as he walked up and snatched the book from Gallagher’s hands. “It’s mine!”
Gallagher could feel his face heating up, turning red with anger. He clinched his fist tight and rammed it directly into Trevor’s nose. With a thud Trevor dropped, and with him, the book. As the older boy began to crawl back to his feet, a flashing light skyrocketed from the cover of the book blinding both boys. “What… what was that?!” Trevor said rubbing his eyes to no avail.
“I have no idea but I can’t see a thing!” Gally said, wondering what the hell was going on. The book had literally just shot a laser beam out of it like some kind of magical gun and Gallagher was glad he wasn’t the only one who saw it.
“Well it came from your book so you ought to know.”
“Oh so now it’s my book?” Gallagher said as he stumbled in blindness reaching for the tome. What was this thing? After a number of seconds, Gallagher’s vision started to come back to him and he latched onto the book. When he examined it further, another flashing light shot out from the cover. This time, the light pierced right through Gallagher’s face and everything went white. At first he felt as though he was floating in mid-air, but then gravity somehow intensified and his entire body was being stretched and pulled apart as if the book was engulfing him somehow. Gallagher struggled to break free but could not and eventually passed out.
Chapter 3
Seventy years had passed since the Magniffs saved the Nifflarian people from the Infection. Nowhere near enough time to recover the numbers that they had lost to it, but enough time to finish mourning the dead. In the years since, Andrum has proven himself a competent Head, but still nowhere near the leader everyone hoped he would be. Most of those who survived the Infection were weakened so much so by it that they lost their abilities to conjure. This on top of the council sacrificing their conjuring abilities, left Ulteria, the Nifflarians’ capital city, in a weakened state. Styir became the 2nd in command and according to most, the only true authoritative figure for the people. Once leader, Andrum promoted Ashurd to general of the northern armies; a title that he boasted about on nearly every occasion. Uriella made a full recovery from the Infection, and became an inspiration to all who had battled the disease. The council decided it best not to appoint a fifth member, and instead just keep it the four of them.
Andrum has already faced several difficult decisions in his time as Head. He began spending more and more time cooped up in Castle Xurion, rather than helping his people rebuild. Although Castle Xurion was where the Council was supposed to call home, previous leaders tended to have a second home near the heart of the city in order to allow them to appear less monarch-like. Andrum however, gave up his abilities to conjure, so creating a second house wasn’t an option for him. It had been a long ruling that Nifflarians only live in a home that either they or a family member conjured and created, but because of so many Nifflarians losing their abilities due to the Infection, many felt it was a rule that needed to change. This was just one of the many rules that Andrum decided not to change. This made him unpopular in some Nifflarians’ eyes, whereas others said that he was only upholding tradition. Because of his lack of popularity, Andrum decided it best not to go out into public much, and let society deal with its own problems.
Since the Nifflarian capital had fallen on such dark times, northern Tilturian clans had taken this as an opportunity to expand, and started a war with the Nifflarians. There had always been a brutal history between the two races, but leading up until the Infection, the Tilturians had feared the Nifflarians’ magik. Prior to the Infection, the Tilturians used their brute force and power to murder and enslave much of the Márnamian race, which had always been by far the weakest of the three.
What Márnamians lacked in magik and strength, they made up for it in ingenuity. Rumor has it that since the Tilturians invaded and conquered some of the Márnamians’ western lands, they had gone undergrown to escape the violence. Although the Nifflarian people felt bad for the Márnamians, they were not allies and the Council of Magniffs ruled not to intervene at the time. Besides, Ulteria was much farther south than most of the conflicts and it would’ve been far too costly to get involved. Instead, the Nifflarians focused on living peaceful lives. That is of course until the Infection occurred and the war with the Tilturians began.
As general to the armies, Ashurd was in charge of all battle plans against the Tilturians and had set up several defensive outposts surrounding Ulteria. Most notably, he founded a group of elite conjurers known as the Spellbinders Platoon to hold Stonewall Point, the farthest and most fortified of the outposts. Since he no longer conjured, Ashurd spent most of his time traveling from outpost to outpost and occasionally back to the capital, rather than fighting on the front lines where he openly stated he’d rather be.
A church bell chimed as children rushed out of cathedral doors. Styir and Ashurd were not far behind, discussing ration levels and preparations for the days to come.
“Praise the Ancients we still have enough to last us through winter,” Styir said as he held the door open for more children to rush by.
“Ancients have nothing to do with it. It was your quick decision making that has got us this far!” Ashurd said.
“Now, you and I both know that I get a thrill out of helping people, but I couldn’t have done it without the help of our Head,” Styir said modestly.
“Our Head be damned! The only good thing he has done is make me Admiral. Now take the compliment, I don’t give them out easily you know.”
“General. Not Admiral. You are in charge of our military, but not the fleets.”
“Bah! Same difference. Who would want to control a bunch of sea monkeys anyways. Speaking of which, my men are in need of more supplies in order to hold the Tilturian border,” Ashurd said as he spit at the ground and grit his teeth.
“More supplies? Those rebels are still giving your troops trouble Ashurd?”
“They’re animals is what they are!” he said as they continued walking towards the castle gates.
“You’re the only animal I see!” A man atop a nearby castle tower said as he began to pull a lever. Soon after, the gates creaked open turn by turn until finally coming to a complete stop, revealing the golden arches of Castle Xurion.
“You are just lucky that we keep you around pipsqueak,” Ashurd said as he pointed and laughed at the gatekeeper.
“Excuse me good sir, but can you point us towards Uriella? We need to speak with her,” Styir asked the man as he climbed down the tower.
“Of course Mr. Styir, last I checked she was in the Archives Room.”
“Again..? She’s read more books than I’ve crushed skulls,” Ashurd said before laughing a heavy laugh until almost choking on his own ego.
“She’s at it again I see. Trying to find a way for us to get our conjuring powers back,” Styir said as he made his way through the castle gates. Ashurd continued to follow Styir until they entered Castle Xurion and both turned towards the Archives Room. There they stood, in a most wondrous library that reached two stories tall housing bookcases full of ancient tomes all about the three different races and their histories. “Ahh there you are!” Styir said after opening the door.
Ashurd walked over towards Uriella who was bent over behind a counter nose deep in a book. “Read anything interesting lately?” he leaned over and asked.
Uriella leapt up startling both herself and Ashurd. “Why yes, I have actually. Styir, Ashurd, I’m glad you’re both here. I’ve been reading about some of our ancestry, and legend has it that the same magik that gave us our innate power to conjure also gave us the right to enter the Eternal Lands when we pass on from the living.”
Styir stoo
d puzzled for a moment before beginning to speak, “So what you’re saying is, if our people can no longer conjure then we cannot join our ancestors in the Eternal Lands?”
“Of that, I’m not quite sure about Styir…” She said as she began to push Ashurd out of her way. “But, according to this text, they both came from the same power.”
“Which means what exactly?” Ashurd said as he turned to Styir and motioned to him that she was crazy.
Uriella, turned back and smacked Ashurds’ hands, stopping him from signaling further. “I may be old, but I still have eyes in the back of my head,” She said.
“…What it means is that I need to take another trip to the Eternal Lands and find out how we can get our powers back,” Andrum said as he entered the room.
The three of them turned and saluted the Head of the Magniffs.
“Another trip? But there is little to no chance that you would survive! The only reason you survived the first time was because you were young and hadn’t spent most of your life force conjuring away like the rest of us. And even if you tried, we know next to nothing about where to go or how to get our powers back,” Styir said as he moved closer to the middle of the room, examining all the books scattered around imperfectly placed.
“How else will we defend Ulteria from the Tilturian armies, and beyond that our people need to be able to conjure again. It’s the only thing that sets us aside from Márnamians, and we all know how well it’s turned out for them,” Andrum said.
“I’ve read nearly every book here and the premise is always the same. Magik never really fades away; much like energy, it just manifests itself somewhere else,” Uriella explained as she tossed her book into a nearby pile.
“Well... If it’s a trip we have to take, then it would be my honor to go with the only man to ever make it back from the Eternal Lands alive,” Ashurd said as he went to go pat Andrum on the shoulder. “I may not agree with your politics, but by the Ancients you are one hell of an adventurer. Besides, you made me your general for a reason!”