The Dark Materials

by Amanda Churi

  Embry giggled, blind to every slice of aggression that ever came her way. “If thou finds that to be the best option, then I oblige.”

  “We will alternate watches throughout the night,” Justus informed her, “but we will let you rest. Your task is far from complete.”

  Griffin took a nervous step forward, his face pale and eyes red. “Justus, can I talk to her for just a moment, please…?”

  Justus looked behind him, skeptical at Griffin’s request. He fiddled with his glasses for a moment to get a good look at his apprentice, frowning when he realized, with nothing more than a simple glance, how lost he was. Sighing, he took off his headset and handed it to Griffin, who immediately put it on his head and shoved the microphone to his mouth. “Laelia?”

  An exhausted moan entered our ears, and Griffin began speaking before Laelia could realize who had joined the call.

  “Look, Laelia, I’m sorry,” he began frantically with hardly a beat in between his words. “I didn’t mean what I said; I didn’t! I’m sorry for hurting you by not telling you, but I was afraid of hurting you more if I did! Please, just because I’m not attracted to you doesn’t mean that—!”

  “Oh, Sybil!” Laelia interrupted, her voice coated in venom. “I think I see a button for the microphone right there! …Oh, no, you definitely shouldn’t press it!”

  “LAELIA!” he cried. “JUST—!”

  The speakers clicked, and just like that, she had be rid of him once more.

  Griffin scoffed in disbelief, his jaw falling and head drooping. Defeated, he removed his headset and passed it back to Justus, who could hardly bear to look at him. Justus shot his flighty eyes to Virgil, giving him a simple nod. “Ey, can you take the first watch? Griffin and I need some shut-eye.”

  “As do the rest of you,” Pinion spoke up, watching the blowing snow from Laelia’s cameras. “If you desire to come back, we will tell you when she is on the move. Standing here will not help anything, though.”

  “Naw, I’m snoozing here,” Flye said firmly, plopping down into Justus’ seat as he rose from his chair, preparing to head out for the night. “I want to make sure I’m here in case anything happens. Night is when Typo is at his strongest, and it’s not unlikely that he floats about the perimeter of the palace at these hours.”

  “And what do you think you could do if he attacked her?” Justus ridiculed.

  Flye shrugged. “More than I could if I wasn’t here at all. I swear, at times you peeps treat serious things like a circus; it practically feels like this base is the 2016 election sometimes.”

  My surprise peaked. Elections? There was no such thing in this time. And that year… I remembered it for the very obvious reason that many others did. “How do you know about that?” I wondered sternly.

  Flye spun around in her chair to face me. “How can you not? The whole thing was a joke!”

  My jaw dropped. “…Uh, what?”

  “Just ignore her,” Virgil huffed, though he couldn’t hide his deceptive, blood-red smirk. “She’s crazy, but she’s got both timelines down pat.”

  “Damn right,” she assured us arrogantly.

  “B-but, I don’t understand!” I protested. “Both timelines? That was an event leading up to my time! How could you know that?!”

  “Because delicacies such as literature should always be preserved in the minds of the valiant!” Embry chirped.

  I wanted to smack them all in the face. Did they just enjoy playing the vague game with me, or what?!

  Justus rolled his eyes, growing irritated with the holdup and turning to the open door, preparing to make his way down the hallway and to his room, but not before pausing beside Griffin. Griffin’s eyes did not wander from his feet, and his thoughts could not escape the dark bars that they were imprisoned behind. Cautious, Justus touched his shoulder, and Griffin immediately flinched away, refusing to look up.

  Justus shook his head, mumbling something under his breath before he left the control room for the night. Griffin was not going anywhere.

  “Mabel, Eero,” Pinion announced, the two of us instinctively turning to face her. “I need to talk to both of you.”

  Neither Mabel nor I moved, and Pinion didn’t seem to have the intention of doing so either. “Well?” Mabel encouraged her. “Go on.”

  “Alone,” she reinforced, turning her back on us and walking through the open metal doors. She didn’t say it, but the vibe she gave off made it more than obvious that we should follow her.

  Without protesting, we did just that, leaving the majority of our friends in the control room. Mabel and I stayed side by side but at a meaningful distance apart; she was continuing to keep her distance and did not appear to be lowering her raised wall anytime soon. With Mabel initiating what appeared to be a solid break between us, while Griffin fell into his guilt trap and Laelia infiltrated the enemy base, I had no one to turn to. It almost felt like a downward spiral was lingering beneath my toes, eagerly awaiting the moment that I took one more inch forward.

  After a bit of walking, Pinion suddenly faced us, waiting patiently. Silent, we approached, stopping a few paces in front of her.

  Pinion exhaled loudly, trying to banish whatever rested on her mind that kept her from maintaining her usually intimidating poise. She reached behind her back, handing us an object that she had purposely kept us from seeing.

  Immediately, my body tensed, and Mabel took my wrist in a death lock, making sure that I did not fly off of my rocker and pin the insane, rash ruler to the floor.

  Extended to us was The Book of Lore. It looked no different from how I had last seen it, but I could hardly comprehend what I was looking at. I had forgotten that I had even brought that with me, and while it was good to have the ominous entity on my radar once more, my insides were prickling suspiciously when I realized that she had somehow swiped it out from under me and taken the secrets it held into her own hands.

  “Here,” she urged on, waiting for one of us to take it.

  “Why did you take it?” I snarled, snatching my hand away from Mabel’s and ripping the book from Pinion’s bony fingers before she changed her mind.

  “Well, the two of you didn’t seem to have any use for it as of late,” she pointed out self-righteously. “Besides, I figured a refresher of history would do me good—remind me of what angles I could continue striking at to further ensure our chance of victory.”

  “That wasn’t yours!” I snapped angrily. “You had no right!”

  Her irises began to shimmer with a mischievous, olive hue. “I had no right?” she countered, pointing at me accusingly. “You had no right to share it with that mute! You had no right to not leave it with Kevin when you abandoned him! And you have no right to tell me what the fuck I can and can’t do! I’ve been trying to clean up this pathetic mess that you created, and, hence, no one establishes boundaries for me! I do what I want; I will do whatever I want to save as many as I can!”

  My blood began to boil, my temperature rising as curses bubbled within my brain. Quickly, Mabel stepped between the two of us, who were probably seconds away from throwing daggers at each other once more. I got it, alright?! I was responsible for this! We established that already! Why couldn’t she just let it go and focus on simply winning this thing now?!

  “And I’m supposed to be the immature one here?” Mabel spat, snapping her crimson eyes to each of us. “What is it with you two?!”

  “You tell me!” I screeched, debating whether or not to push her away. “Pinion hated me at first glance.”

  “Oh, likewise,” Pinion added hatefully.

  “Because you tried to have us killed!”

  “Eero, knock it off!” Mabel scolded, smacking me on the crown of my head. I reeled back, shaking my head quickly as she snapped her gaze back to Pinion. “And you! You’re supposed to be a queen! A role model! Start acting like one!”

  “When he proves to me that he is worthy of my respect, then perhaps I will! Until then, I have no intention of forgiving tha
t asshole for even a single one of his inexcusable actions!”

  Mabel paused, her eyes flashing as she peered beneath Pinion’s skin. “How do you even know every detail about us?” she wondered on high alert. “There is no way that you know all of that from books or tales…”

  Pinion took a sharp step back. “The ways that I obtain my knowledge is of no concern to the likes of you. All that matters is that I know the truth. I know more about you than you do, and that makes me positive that I will make right decisions from here on out.” She whipped her body back towards the hallway, her long white hair flying behind her. “It’s why I doubt that you two are actually prophets. Until I have a clear sign, I will not believe it. There are others out there far more worthy than you two.”

  Before we could say anything else to set her off, Pinion shuffled down the hallway and out of sight, heading someplace that we could not touch her.

  “How can we possibly prove our loyalty?” I questioned.

  Mabel kept her sight glued ahead. “She’s a stubborn bitch alright; I have no clue.” She met my stare. “Whatever. She gave us the book back; we may as well see if we can figure something out about destinies, right?”

  Her response to the situation helped bring my seething emotions back down to an appropriate level. Sighing, I walked in step with her towards our bunker. I was wary of talking as we made our way to our destination. Pinion already knew far too much about us… I was skeptical of her lurking in the shadows, snitching more information that she could somehow use against us—that was if there was any more that she could collect in the first place.

  We entered our bedroom, the metal door sliding shut behind us. Somewhat in a daze, I sat down on the edge of my bed, Mabel parking it next to me as we overlooked the book together. Although the light was extinguished from the surface, The Witches’ Mark was still embedded on the cover in golden thread, gleaming in the night as the dull light from the bathroom bounced off of its dazzling material.

  I took a deep breath, déjà vu crushing both my heart and stomach. The last time I opened this… It was with Tah—back when everything was alright and she was still my friend. Back when I sealed her fate…

  Not wanting to dwell on the unchangeable past any longer, I turned over the cover before I got cold feet, throwing myself back into what I hoped I would not later regret.

  Words coated the page—so many and in such a tiny font that my head began to throb at the thought of reading this whole thing. There were hand painted pictures and drawings on one page with brief descriptions beside them, the next page being an onslaught of words; if I remembered correctly, most of The Book of Lore was like this—at least what I had seen of it. It was basically the world’s first shot at a modern day textbook only, thankfully, it was interesting and did not guarantee boring you to tears.

  “In the beginning, there was nothing…” Mabel echoed. She scoffed, letting out a loud moan of disinterest. “Bored already; I know this stuff. Skip to something more exciting.”

  “But shouldn’t we start from the beginning?”

  “Unless you’re like Tah and don’t mind sitting here like a statue for hours and hours, then no, we shouldn’t.” She took the book from my hands and slid it over so that it rested on both of our laps. Without caring that this thing was several thousand years old, she began shuffling through the pages as fast as her hand would allow her to.

  I watched intently, noticing something odd. “Hold up,” I commanded, grabbing her hand and keeping her from moving forth.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, slightly startled.

  Keeping one hand on hers, I grabbed the page that we were currently on, lifting it up and slowly turning it over.

  Along the spine of the old book were the remains of several torn pages. Threads were pulled and snapped, only fragments of the parchment remaining attached to the base. I gasped lightly, turning the page back and forth, stupefied. It jumped from page 205 all of the way to 223.

  “There’s pages missing,” I noted, flipping through several more leaves, only to find the same thing happening multiple times. Randomly throughout the book, chunks of text were missing; sometimes, it was a page or two, and other times, it was a few dozen.

  “Pinion must have taken them out…” Mabel reasoned darkly. “But why?”

  I did not answer her for a moment. “Maybe she took out what triggers us…” I replied. “Tah was fine at first when she read this, and the deeper she got into it, the more she changed.” I looked at Mabel with a dumbfounded glare. “Maybe by some crazy chance she is protecting us?”

  “But Tah was evil,” Mabel said dismissively. “We’re not.”

  I looked back down, a weight slamming into my colon as I resumed turning the pages, my eyes falling upon a word I had been exposed to far too much lately—a heading titled Essences, which was circled numerous times, almost as if Pinion wanted me to look into this specifically.

  “…You’re not,” I told her, straining my voice.

  She opened her mouth to protest but could not as she digested what I was looking at. “Essences,” Mabel echoed aloud, staring at the convoluted picture of a demon—one radiating gold and sharing many similarities with my own distorted figure when I lost control.

  I lowered my head, my eyes following the words as I consumed the meaning behind them.

  Essences,

  When an act of treason has been committed by a servant of Hell, one that is seemingly unspeakable, a demon is placed on trial for his/her existence. If found guilty by Satan, the accused is thrown into a game for His pleasure, becoming the “core demon” of an Essence.

  Becoming a part of an Essence is the worst possible sentencing known to all—even worse than eternal torture. An Essence is a congregation of millions of disgraceful demons, fledglings, all of whom can range in species and power from the highest to lowest orders; they are those convicted of lesser crimes, such as displays of sympathy or failure to obey orders. Upon fusion, their free-will is stripped, and they are placed into a seemingly endless sleep, awaiting the ultimate task—the only one which has the ability to redeem them if successful.

  When convicted, the accused demon becomes the core. They are put to sleep as well, surrounded by all of the fledglings, making the traitorous demon the prime target of destruction among their peers when/if the fledglings awaken; this depends on if Satan finds a suitable host for the Essence.

  Fledglings, depending on their rank and strength in Hell, have a certain threshold of energy needed to awaken. The smaller demons, such as imps, are some of the first to awake, whereas the stronger ones, such as shis, require a much larger intake of energy. As a punishment for the core demon, the fledglings’ job is to eliminate their ally in the worst possible way. If successful, they may return to Hell pardoned of their petty crimes.

  As a tribute to the core demon’s ability to resist the law and order of Hell, the remaining length of their existence is dependent on the fight they put up against the fledglings once enough have emerged from dormancy. In the case of the Essence, sometimes, the core demon is strong enough and manages to suppress the fledglings, controlling them and becoming the ultimate, most feared demon—one with the skills and strengths of all in their body. Such success rarely lasts; it most often is not more than hours until even the strongest cores fall.

  An Essence cannot come to Earth as such; it has to reside in the body of a human first, and the unique human soul is in charge. If never enough demons awake, all die with their human counterpart. However, if a tremendous influx of power comes into play, sometimes, the strongest demons will awaken, all targeting the human soul in an attempt to gain access to the core demon restrained behind the human. The length of this so-called “gestation” varies on the strength of the human soul and the quantity/strength of active fledglings. In most cases, simply for humor, a pathetic mortal is chosen to carry an Essence so that the core may fall all the quicker, but sometimes, Satan saves these Essences… Waiting for the perfect human and their kin
that can harness a high number of demons and use their abilities to wreak havoc.

  In their primal form, Essences feast on innocent souls, as well as human blood and flesh. They can only be dispersed or subdued through something holy in nature: a cross, holy water, exorcisms, and the Sword of Maeve are such examples, as well as other demons.

  “Eh, well, good to have some answers for once,” I mumbled under my breath. I looked at Mabel, defeat infecting my face. “Too bad I can also be killed by the same stuff that can end a mortal’s life.”

  “Yeah…” she mumbled in agreement. “But… Who knows? Maybe since you’re part demon, you’ve got some immunity to mortal damage…?”

  I scoffed. “Judging by my experiences from the past months, I doubt it.”

  Mabel grunted. “I guess…” She scanned the page one last time, cocking her head to the side in interest. “Hey, look! That thing looks like Sybil!”

  I leaned in closer. It was identical. “I thought Sybil was created?”

  “So did I, but…” Her voice trailed away. “Oh?” She pointed to a picture—a picture which showed some sort of demon face to face with a white wisp. “What’s this?”

  I read the words below the picture.

  Demons have access ports to Hell, Earth, and the Spirit World. The Spirit World is not classified as a dimension since it is an invisible world parallel to Earth, but a demon can merge into the Spirit World. This is hard to achieve, even for the eldest demons; Eyla, lost souls, inhabit the spirit world, and only they choose who to let in, not vice versa. Eyla tend to trust supernaturals whose predominant world is Earth, hence allowing them to stand with a foot in each world, but due to the dark nature of demons, a gateway into their lonely lives essentially never happens. Still, that is not to say that it is impossible, and although they are rare, demons can always travel through the disguised portals that connect Earth and Hell.

  “Whaaatt?!” Mabel exclaimed, inhaling loudly. “Oh my God, Eero, you can go to Hell? And like, literally? Without dying?!”