by Timothy Ray
The dwarf leapt to his feet, gave the large stump he had been perched on a push, and sent it rolling a few feet towards the grinning orc. Then he went about trying to salvage what there was of dinner. “Sae much fur havin’ bairns,” he grumbled under his breath and Willow snickered.
“Tell me why I should remain with you wizard, or despite my brother, you will find me miles away come sun up,” the black knight spoke, her voice hardened. A grimace crossed Jared’s face at her words.
“If I’m to tell you why we’re here, I’m going to have to start at the beginning,” Merlin informed her, eyeing the others as smiles slipped away and laughter dried up. “If we’re all done horsing around, maybe we can get down to business then, yes? Good. So, let us begin—.”
II
“If you are to understand what I’m about to tell you, then you need to forget anything you think you know. History is written by the victors and that means that it’s not always accurate. There’s always another side, and those tales are very rarely heard. So, set aside your preconceptions and listen to all I have to say before you judge,” Merlin told them as Token began spooning his chili concoction into bowls.
“First, let me tell you about your narrator,” the mage offered with a grim smile. Willow rested her head-on Tristan’s shoulder as the flames flickered across Merlin’s face. Though the older man appeared to be in his thirties, it was apparent he was a hell of a lot older than that. If that were true for one person, why not others? How many more immortals walked the Earth hiding amongst the crowds?
Merlin took a bone out of his pocket and started gnawing on it absently. “I was born in the year 7479, the current year is 4435,” the man told them. How was that possible? Were they following a madman? Merlin chuckled. “That’s right, I haven’t been born yet.”
“How?” Willow asked, sounding exhausted.
The mage waved off the question. “Please be patient a little longer and I’ll explain.”
He paused to take a breath while considering where to start, then continued.
“My father was the incubus Damon. An incubus is a demon that takes Human form to have sex with mortals of both sexes. He chose to appear to a very young princess named Katherine. He whispered his words of seduction and she had no choice but to fall madly in love with him. Out of wedlock, she took him to her bed. That choice set in a motion a chain of events that would soon end her way of life. Not long after their union, my mother found that she was with child. Her parents were outraged and sent her into exile.”
“Alone and afraid, my mother wandered the forest; lost, starving, and close to death. She was found passed out, barely hanging on, by a widowed midwife who took her back to her cottage. Eight months later, I was born, but it was a birth unlike any in the history of Man. Although my mother tried her best to hold onto me, I disappeared in her arms, never to be seen again. I was brought into the underworld and into my father’s arms. He weaved a spell and cursed his own son; the curse of living backwards through time. Time is an endless flowing river and I’m a rock, helplessly watching the tide go by. Oh, I can change the flow of the river from time to time, but it generally goes where it would; indifferent to my presence,” Merlin explained.
“This does not mean that I always know what’s going to happen. I can see the endless possibilities that the future might bring, as I have lived through them all. But as the rock, I can never truly be in one of them. While I may guide you to your destiny, I will not know the outcome with any certainty until it actually happens. It comes down to free will and choice. Emotion drives the river and directs its path.”
“However, I do possess memories of my future, my “to be”. The flow of time affects my memories even though my biology ages in reverse. That’s how I come to know what has transpired, what links me to those long-lost ages. You cannot change where the river goes until it reaches you; so the past is the past, my future set. Needless to say, unlike your own, my own future is bereft of any surprises.”
“I can tell you about the great battles of Greece, the Roman Empire, the Royal Navy, and the United States of America; dynasties come and gone. I could tell you about King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, and while it has bearing, it’s best suited for another time. Someone else will need to hear it and I’d really only like to tell that tale once.”
At the mention of the Knights of the Round Table, he felt a hint of recognition, something tugging in the back of his brain. He had heard that name before, but where?
“At the peak of the Information Age, the entire world found itself on the brink of destruction. They had made powerful weapons of war that could wipe out entire cities in seconds and plunge the world into a deadly winter that no season could change. At the same time, though, people seemed to be at their happiest. There was less need in the world, unless you count their endless fascination with a box of moving pictures and paper currency. Food was in abundance, obesity was on the rise, and starvation was fast seeing its end.”
“The entire globe was connected like never before. You could use devices to talk to someone on the opposite side of the world with a click of a button. There was a global exchange of thoughts and ideas. Powerful machines could span great distances and reunite families long thought lost. Man had spread across the globe, but were closer to one another than ever before.”
“That is when Man was at his strongest; yet at his weakest. A woman named Rachel Emerick journeyed into the Pennines, a forest region to the north. It had changed many times in the previous millennium, but the magic that still resided there lay dormant; waiting for a time when it was needed again.”
“She went there in search of a book which had lain quietly in its prison for a thousand years. It was a book of pure evil, created when the world was young and is responsible for millions of atrocities throughout its existence. It was almost destroyed when the great library of Alexandria was burned, but somehow it survived. Mysteriously, a young witch named Morgana le Fey found it and I was forced to intervene. Taking it from her while she was away, I helped a band of druids imprison it within the confines of a castle and every magical defense available was employed to keep it there. I thought it forever beyond the reach of Man—I was wrong. Rachel broke through those defenses and seized the book, bringing its evil back into the world once more.”
“It consumed her, and from her ashes rose a monster the like of which the world had never seen. The castle was turned into a beacon of evil. Thousands of followers flocked to its walls to receive her blessing. Mass religious hysteria gripped the land, millions fled to churches, praying to their Gods; sure that Armageddon was finally upon them. Many called her the Antichrist, and for all intent and purposes, that is exactly what she was.”
“Through her followers, she was able to plant seeds of distrust amongst the nations of the world. She used social networking sites and parts of the deep web to spread her tendrils and create chaos across the globe,” Merlin spoke, then paused. “I know you don’t understand everything I’m saying, that is not important. What is, is that you understand the nature of evil that we are facing. And he will lead them, brother against brother—And so it was. Though the gender might have been mistaken, the truth behind Revelations was not. Antichrist, the Beast, it doesn’t matter what they called her, you know her as the Phoenix.”
Goosebumps broke out on his arms. Merlin was right, he didn’t understand everything the older man was saying, but the meaning behind his words had not been lost in translation. Willow’s hand tightened on his and he squeezed it to offer what comfort she could.
“She created false images of people making weapons, WMDs, instigating conflicts against innocent nations. Then she ordered her agents to release viruses upon the world’s population. They also polluted the world’s food supply, causing a famine that resulted in the deaths of millions. The nations of the world argued over the validity of the videos, but could not come to a consensus in time. Her influence had spread past a breaking point and World War III h
ad already begun.”
“Biological weapons were used and the world’s leaders sent their nukes in response. Ninety-five percent of the world’s population died from the fires of hell that rained down upon them, or the fallout that followed.”
“However, this island was not touched.”
“She wasn’t powerful enough to protect a continent like North America, but the United Kingdom was easily within her grasp. That is what these lands used to be called in an age long lost to history. She prevented the nuclear weapons from destroying this land, to the amazement of the panicked populace. But their relief was short lived. Her followers were well placed in high levels of government and the military decimated itself in civil war. Then she created a rift in this dimension and opened a portal to another world.”
“She had been there frequently, supplying and training an army. When the rift opened, she sent forth her hordes to enslave what was left of Mankind. Goblins, orcs, jackyls, harpies, and other demons out of tales long thought imaginary; descended upon London and tore it apart. Man’s weaponry might have been superior, but it was no match for magic, and it ripped the last remnants of the Human resistance apart. Overnight, the government fell. She pronounced herself Queen, taking the throne as the ruler of the world; or what was left of it.”
Kore grunted, red eyes boring into the mage.
“Ah yes, my friend is not particularly fond of this part of history. Yet, what was cannot be rewritten. To do him justice though, the Orcs didn’t do any of this of their own free will. They were then, and remain to this day, the unwilling slaves to the Phoenix. Driven by demonic forces, whips upon their backs, they have no choice but to continue their existence as the Phoenix’s first slaves. Like Man, Kore hopes to one day achieve freedom for his race.”
“Orcs free or Kore die,” the large warrior responded to the mage’s words.
Merlin nodded as if he had heard it many times before. “Where was I? Oh yes. The darkest part of Man’s history was born on that day. For a thousand years, they served as slaves to her Dark Majesty’s every whim. For the first time in their history, they faced extinction. It was a prospect both new and terrifying to the once proud dominant rulers of the Earth.”
“Then in the year 3017, a group of rebels stumbled into the Drago Mountains, two weeks south of here. They fled an army that had been dispatched to quell their little uprising. Miners and workers, their weapons were crude and their hands untrained in their use. Retreating before the massive horde, most died making the treacherous climb to the mountain’s heights. Wyrddlin, the dragon that inhabits those passes, descended upon the approaching enemy hordes.”
“They died by the thousands, the whips of their masters no longer able to push them forward. They broke; the army falling into disarray. Those that fled were put to death when discovered, following all those that stayed into the afterlife.”
“In the end, there were only twelve rebels left of the band that had fled to those mountain passes. Hunting for food, they came across a cave that had ancient carvings upon its walls. Unable to make anything of them, they continued their journey into the depths of the caverns, daring to go where no other had for two thousand years. Deep within were several formations of ice and one amongst them held a human shape; barely discernible through the frosted surface.”
“One of the twelve was a magic user; a druid that had studied the teachings of old, handed down through the ages. Druids had only taken one apprentice at a time to lessen their chances at discovery, as the Phoenix did not suffer any to gain power that could one day threaten her own. The man had sensed magic in use, and ordered the others to help search for the ingredients needed to release the person from their icy prison. He worked through the night and when he cast his spell, he finally freed the incarcerated person, and returned him to the world of the living.”
“Warmed by the fire, I awoke to a new time; a new age.”
He paused, as if reflecting on that moment. They let him do so in peace; processing all that they’d been told. If he recalled half, it would be an accomplishment. He ate the cooling chili and felt a burn upon his lips. Hastily taking a swig from his canteen, he heard the dwarf laughing at his reaction.
Merlin ignored them as he went on. “Freed of my mortal binding, I was no longer confined to the spirit world. I schooled them in Latin, teaching them the writings engraved upon my tomb. I also taught them how to use their weapons and strengthened the young druid’s use of magic. With me by their side, we left the passes in search of others that would take up our cause. Fear of reprisal kept the slaves from quickly joining the rebellion, until they learned that they now had magic on their side was well.”
“We began to engage the enemy whenever it was safe to do so. We were still no match for the larger forces, but we antagonized the lesser ones. We disrupted trade routes, attacked caravans, and decimated smaller regiments as we came upon them. We left no survivors.”
“The Phoenix grew enraged. She knew that they were being given help, but not by whom. Sensing the danger in their successes, she sent the bulk of her forces after the rebels in an effort to stamp out our resistance movement. Our numbers had grown and these were no longer frightened slaves with shovels that met the horde on the battlefield. It was a battle tested army with magic users making up for the lack of numbers. The hordes were beaten back by an inspired group of men, fighting fiercely in hand-to-hand combat. The hundreds beat back thousands, and their victory gave hope to the other remaining pockets of Man; swelling their ranks.”
“I sensed that others were out there with the gift of magic. Like the druid that had freed me, they had practiced in secret, handing down their knowledge from father to son. While most of the magic in the world had perished after the Arthurian Age, it had been given a rebirth when she opened that rift and loosed her otherworldly wrath.”
“Undisciplined in its use, I quickly took them under my wing and trained them in the old ways of magic. When I was satisfied in their competency, I dispatched them to the corners of England, to search out other rebellions and help organize them. In three years’ time, the once dispirited broken forms that had slaved in silence for a thousand years, fought back against a foe that had no sense of honor, no inspiration, and were pure evil. They won some major victories and drove the hordes north towards the Phoenix’s stronghold.”
“For the first time in a millennium, she tasted fear.”
“She called upon the book’s magic to sweep this rebellion into the ocean, but her magic failed. The humans had been joined by the fae, elves, and dwarves, and their magic proved to be a match for hers. She was in unfamiliar territory. She had believed Man broken and brought to heel; her lowered vigilance allowed them to grow in strength beyond her ability to control. It was the most dangerous threat she had ever faced.”
“You admire her,” Willow spoke up, interrupting the tale. She had kept to herself most of the night and he’d thought she’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. Now she straightened up and met Merlin’s gaze.
“It’s not admiration. But it is hard not to respect the magic she had to command. The power she controlled was well-wielded and had there been another like her, you all would have been born into bondage. It is impossible to stand in the face of such magic, whether used for good or evil, and not respect the person wielding it,” he answered. “But,” he said, holding up a finger, “you can be sure of one thing; I am, nor have I ever been a fan. I’d never ask her for an autograph.” He broke into fresh laughter and threw another log on the fire.
No one joined him; it had to be an inside joke. The mage’s laughter died off and he took a bite of his chili. His face reddened and he looked like he was about to spit it back out. “Token, red chilies, really?”
The dwarf held up his flask with a giant smile and Merlin shook his head in disappointment. Setting down his bowl, he continued. “She was on unsure footing, but despite the odds, she threw herself into battle. For the first time since the Dark Ages began, she
personally stepped onto the battlefield and brought her power to bear. Never had so much depended on the outcome of one battle, for this one decided the fate of Man. Extinction or freedom?”
“Magic fought alongside steel, and after the longest battle in the history of Man, they finally drove her hordes back.”
“The Phoenix had vanished. Her evil had been purged and Man was able to start anew. The hordes fled into the northern mountains, where any kind of war against them would be drawn out for years; if not decades. The will to fight was sated, the races had won their freedom, and they decided to let them go. Man began to rebuild from memory the way they thought their world should be.”
“It’s humorous that they returned to aristocracy instead of democracy, but no one could fault them, as they were in undiscovered territory; plunging blindly ahead. As I’ve said, there is a downfall to having so many people making choices for the masses, and while I’m all for democracy, sometimes there’s a benefit to decisiveness and quick action instead of long-winded debates. There’s a King in another land discovering this as we speak.”
“Also, I think that after so much time being under someone’s control, they were dependent on having someone telling them how to live. They had been institutionalized.”
“Over the years, I disappeared, withdrawing to my small home to the south. The druids slowly faded as well. Without a leader, most returned home to teach what they knew to the coming generations. I let them go, knowing that when the time came, the magic would still be there. Luckily, the druids have been reborn, the Elves of Forlorn have taken up that mantle and are well-skilled in the use of magic. They have waited for the day when the need would rise once again and have prepared well for it. That time—is now.”
“Another millennium has passed and once again the Phoenix has risen from her ashes. She believes the races have become complacent; that the resistance will be light. She is counting on their ignorance blinding them from the truth until it’s too late. Her only hope is a pre-emptive strike; scatter the forces before they can unite. Would the Dwarves send help to Forlorn if they themselves are under attack? Why would they sacrifice their homes to save another’s? This is the kind of attitude that the Phoenix is counting on.”