Her desire for perfection was her greatest strength but was also her greatest weakness. She took failure seriously and Umbra’s escape stung her like a deep cut.
She admired her athletic physique in a full-length mirror, wiped her blood-dotted face with a wet towel.
After Umbra gave her the slip in Heartless Swamp she made her way back here. Her contract to kill Umbra had been a failure. Not to be defeated so easily though, she would bring his head to her client. A strange old man she met in Myst City who had paid her with a strange, jeweled amulet.
After a long, contemplative bath in her makeshift washtub she stepped out wrapped in a towel, feeling reenergized. Donning her clothes and armor, she stared thoughtfully at her weapon cache and rolled the odd amulet in her hand.
There were rumors that Umbra was in Myst City. He was now totally exposed with no protection from his mentor.
What a golden opportunity! She gleamed as she selected her weapons.
She chose a few swords, a dagger at her ankle and a small crossbow.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the door with a clear goal in mind, the setting sun lighting up her armor as she walked casually down the mountain path.
The gathering wind whipped past her fiery red hair, her equally searing gaze was fixed on the roadways below.
“Welcome to my study!” Astralode announced jovially pushing open the mahogany doors to reveal a mind-bogglingly large library.
Umbra’s jaw dropped. The book shelves were three-stories tall at least! There was enough books in this chamber to fill a lake, every one sorted and lined up flawlessly.
White, satin-gloves levitated past, sorting the books; many moving stepladders floated around. The skylight above illuminated the majesty of the pristine library.
The marble floors sparkled as more floating white gloves mopped and polished them tirelessly. In the center of this surreal room stood a round oak table covered with open scrolls, books, and papers Astralode had been reading.
The gloves had ignored this table as they continued cleaning tirelessly. One glove however lay still in the middle of the paper pile. As Umbra approached he heard quiet noise of snoozing. “Is that glove sleeping?” he inquired, perplexed by the thought.
“Oh, that’s just lefty!” Marin explained looking endearingly at the odd familiar nestled on the table. “I tried to make a helper hand like Astralode’s. He didn’t really come out right,” she giggled.
“Hmm, let’s see here,” Astralode rummaged through the papers before extracting a dark leather-bound book with a lock on it. He chuckled lightly as he slid a paper carefully out from under the snoozing glove being sure not to awaken it.
Umbra’s eyes drifted across the table to a familiar tome lying open. “The Grimoire Demonus!” Umbra announced as he spotted the book. “How did you get one of those?” he demanded.
Astralode peered over the small lenses of his reading glasses, his smile sobering. “You think in this massive collection of books I wouldn’t have a black magic section?”
His smile returned with a chuckle. He pointed up at the far corner shelf. Occult icons lined the shelf and gothic candlesticks levitated nearby setting the theme of the section perfectly.
Marin approached Astralode and peered at the occult tome in his hands.
“So this will do what for Umbra?” she inquired with a confused look.
She looked to the small recipe shelf by the wall and walked over to it hoping to find the ingredients they’d need. “So we have salt, we got some snake’s blood…”
“It needs to be Umbra’s blood!” Astralode cut in. Marin cringed as she gazed at him.
“I don’t see any of that dragon’s bane stuff around here; it’s that red and pointy plant right?” Marin continued as she rummaged through the various jars of weird and wonderful items.
Some morbid, others bizarre, the shelf was crammed with countless reagents. The shelf smelled strongly of formaldehyde, Marin didn’t seem to notice as she excitedly browsed through the inventory, almost knocking over a jar of pickled lizard eyes.
“Nope, Astralode. There isn’t any dragon’s bane here,” Marin concluded. She turned to face Umbra solemnly.
“We can always conjure some!” she beamed, her expression quickly brightened.
Astralode signaled to one of the white gloves. The magical glove stopped working instantly and floated over to him.
“Please would you find me my conjuring recipe book?” Astralode asked.
The glove obediently flew over to the shelves, making sign language gestures to the other gloves nearby. They directed it to the central top shelf.
Umbra was astounded by the incredible arcane display.
“You really have to show me how to make those,” he affirmed in amazement.
Astralode grinned, stroking his beard as he watched the glove find his book.
“It gets hard keeping track of where I put most of my books,” Astralode admitted. “The helper hands remember where they are and perhaps clean up a little too obsessively. They are my finest creations,” Astralode boasted watching the helper hand reach the location of the book. After extracting it, it descended slowly and handed it courteously over.
“Thank you. Take a break for a little while if you wish,” Astralode suggested. The helper hand gave a ‘thumbs down’ gesture and continued working. “They never want to stop,” Astralode sighed as he glanced at Marin’s familiar, Lefty, snoozing on the table.
Umbra and Astralode skimmed through the book together looking for the ingredients to conjure dragon’s bane. Marin sat at the edge of the table humming to herself, her boredom apparent.
One of the helper hands offered her a glass of water. She moved her blonde hair aside to reveal a wound on her neck. Dipping a finger in the water she let a few drops fall onto the cut, it healed instantly.
Umbra had been watching, pretending to read with Astralode, he was astounded.
“It’s called water healing, one of Marin’s best talents. She’s near unstoppable with enough water around,” Astralode explained fully aware where Umbra’s attention lay.
“I tutored her myself since she arrived here as a small child. She was naturally adept in aquatic magic, so I focused her training to hydromancy,” he explained.
Astralode looked affectionately at Marin. “I myself am somewhat of a jack-of-all-trades. But in a hydromancy fight I’m sure this great sorceress could win,” he chuckled, she pouted lightly.
“How much do you know about necromancy?” Umbra inquired.
Astralode’s smile faded. He looked at Umbra with a stern face.
“Enough to not dabble in it my boy,” he responded “and neither should you.” He sighed, “Sure, your shadow magic may be impressive but you must set healthy limits. The best necromancers have become corrupt monsters from abusing that power.”
Umbra had heard all this before; he nodded and rolled his eyes as Astralode continued lecturing.
“Right here!” Umbra pointed excitedly at the page. “It says one part toad bile, one part swamp worm, three parts blood spores.” Umbra looked up to see Marin already rummaging through the recipe shelf.
“Got it all!” she announced as she placed the various jars and beakers on the table.
Astralode continued with the passage, once he had finished he put the book down. He tightened his grip on his walking cane; standing up straight he closed his eyes with intense focus.
A silvery aura surrounded him and his cane began pulsing with magic. The room lit up and the cane reformed into an elegant magician’s staff, silver with gold trim.
When the light in the room faded Astralode was standing firmly on his feet, wielding the staff. His eyes were silvery grey and his robes now as white as snow. He had an aura about him. His skin had a hint of glowing vitality despite his age.
He held his hand over the table, the ingredients lit up in a silvery array that appeared on the floor.
In his hand appeared the steaming goblet. “Now a drop of your blood if you please, Umbra” he requested holding out the goblet.
EIGHTEEN
Marin stood outside of the array nervously watching the ritual unfold. She had never seen a full-blown shadow ritual before. Although curious, she was still unnerved by it.
Umbra squeezed one of the wounds he had from fighting Lydia until a small droplet fell out into the goblet. Astralode swirled it around, his face serious and intense. He motioned for Umbra sit in the center of the array.
“Now just relax…” Astralode’s voice echoed. Umbra drifted off to sleep as the spell took affect. The last thing he saw was Astralode taking a whiff from the goblet and then darkness.
Marin watched as Umbra slept and Astralode stood as still as a statue. She wondered what was happening inside Umbra’s mind and whether her teacher would succeed.
There she sat and waited for about an hour, she was about to fall asleep when she heard a shout.
“No! This can’t be!” It was her teacher’s voice! His body and lips weren’t moving. The noise seemed to be coming from Umbra.
Marin ran over, shaking each as she tried to wake them, it was fruitless.
She looked around frantically until she saw a large pot of water and bolting over to grab it she almost stumbling over.
Once it was next to the array around Umbra and Astralode she whispered an incantation and swirled her finger in the water. The water rippled to reveal a clear image of Umbra. He was younger but she knew it was him.
Marin watched carefully as the memories continued, trying to figure out what was going wrong. There were flashes of a fire, death and destruction.
The Night of Flames!
The visions continued with a lonely young man deep in study of a dark revival ritual. So too she saw the encounter with the demon. The images then began moving too quickly comprehend clearly.
The water began to boil, the pot heated up scalding Marin’s fingers. “Ouch!” she yelped jerking them away. She squinted trying to see through the steam of what was unfolding below.
Out in the shadows of the forest the vampire Vlad waited.
He had managed to escape Myst City in all of the confusion and chaos of the midnight feeding frenzy. He had eaten a helpless elderly couple and a small child.
He had lost his love, Lydia that night, waking from his slumber this night was like reliving the loss. They had gotten separated in the frenzy.
He had always admired how powerful she was, how she was as fierce as she was beautiful to him.
He remembered back to when he first met her.
It was a dark night in Fuchsia village almost six years ago.
He had recently been initiated by the Dark Claw back then. They were deliberating as to which house they would target for their feast that night. They all hovered over the town below from rooftops like reapers choosing their next victims.
Normally a town would be on high alert if they heard that the Dark Claw were nearby, they were the strongest of the vampire clans. But they had managed to sneak in undetected
In those days the clan was thirty strong, but as the years passed and more of them fell in combat and starvation their numbers dwindled.
It was back then when he first met Lydia.
She was an orphaned girl with an older brother. Vlad was young himself at that time, vampires age to around thirty then stop. As long as they were fed they could live forever, but their hunger for blood was relentless.
He was so infatuated with her and insisted that the clan spare her from their “random picks”.
Unfortunately, later that night Lydia and her brother were walking in the woods, gathering firewood when the clan decided to ambush them.
The vampires were perched high in the trees watching the two victims below. Vlad had protested repeatedly to their leader to spare Lydia.
“We either kill her or initiate her!” the leader told him.
Vlad decided on the latter; they could be together forever if he did.
So when the order came he was sure the clan didn’t kill her or her brother. The clan attacked them and over-powered the two siblings. Her brother was taken down first as Lydia could only watch in horror.
The clan wanted blood but Vlad wanted them alive. Just before the fighting became lethal he questioned their leader, Veracious.
“I want the girl to become one of us, her brother too,” he pleaded.
The leader had sensed the girl’s great potential and allowed Vlad to take her off to be initiated. Much to the discontent of the other vampires, Veracious ordered them to look elsewhere for prey.
Lydia’s brother was left for dead by the other members. Vlad knew he was alive, he had felt the boy’s great potential.
In a clearing not too far away Vlad huddled over Lydia.
“Are you okay?” he inquired as he helped Lydia sit up. “You had an accident and I rescued you; they would have killed you if I hadn’t intervened,” he explained. The vampire leader Veracious had altered her memories of the attack with the little magic he knew.
“Who are you? You look familiar,” she whispered, still dazed. The moon was full and Vlad’s pale skin was haunting, but Lydia was not afraid.
“Your brother ran off and left you to die in these woods when the vampires attacked,” he had told her.
She was infuriated and upset by this. He had offered to initiate her by having her drink a drop of his blood. “You never have to be alone again,” he promised her.
Over the years she quickly became the strongest vampire, Lydia later became the leader of the Dark Claw when Varacious was killed by a red-headed slayer.
Vlad was never able to confess his feelings for her, pretending to not have any. He admired her from afar as she grew into the most powerful leader the clan had known.
Everything was fine until that fateful night in Myst City when his world was turned upside down.
That despicable Necromancer! His blood, if he had any, boiled when hearing the name “Umbra”. He hated him so ferociously. The only goal he had in mind now was to kill him.
The failure of the Dark Claw, the abandonment of the changeling Cassius and his own hunger didn’t matter to him now. He only wanted revenge.
NINETEEN
Back at Astralode’s tower, Marin was furiously trying to awaken Astralode and Umbra.
She had splashed water on them, slapped them, and shaken them. Nothing worked!
Yells and calls for help from her teacher still echoed from Umbra’s head. Marin, in her desperation grabbed the goblet out of the frozen hands of her teacher and took a whiff of the concoction.
The effect was instant! Marin felt like the weight of her body had fallen away as she entered into Umbra’s mind to find her teacher.
Astralode was frozen in front of a demonic image when Marin found him. The words “He’s mine, leave now!” kept echoing around.
Marin was floating above an open grave. A blood-red demon was standing in front of the younger Umbra demanding his soul. She was horrified when he agreed to it and was branded on his arm by the demon.
She had seen enough! It was time to leave. She grabbed Astralode and whispered the incantation to awaken from this dream state.
The real world hit Marin like a wall. She was flat on her back, her head bruised from the floor. She struggled to her feet, rubbing her head.
Astralode was on the ground moaning, Umbra was still unconscious.
“Teacher!” she called out as she ran up to Astralode and helped him to his feet.
“What happened, teacher?” Marin inquired her concern apparent as she supported him over her shoulder.
&nb
sp; “That young man has a lot of powerful enemies. Wherever he goes destruction will follow no matter how good his intentions are,” Astralode coughed and spluttered. “I’ve never seen such power though, it’s hard to believe he is human,” Astralode stuttered.
Marin was so confused. What did he mean: ‘hard to believe he is human’?
Just as Astralode caught his breath, Umbra awoke.
“So what did you find?” he yawned, standing up. He was completely oblivious to what had just transpired.
There was something new about Umbra, something subtle, yet noticeable. He had a slight red glow about him, unnoticeable if you weren’t focused.
“Umbra! I hope you know what a dangerous road you are going down,” Astralode insisted.
“If you want to free yourself from a contract with a demon, you must kill the demon that holds the contract. Sealing or exorcising the demon won’t be enough!” Astralode explained. Umbra spun around.
“You saw what was going on in there so I don’t need to explain myself to you. I only have questions,” Umbra retorted as he walked towards Astralode, his scar glowed dully, and his shadow flickered as he stepped.
Marin hadn’t seen such power radiating off of one person before, it was mind-boggling.
“We have much to discuss young one,” Astralode declared solemnly.
Back in Heartless Swamp a dark figure crept through the tangled branches and green fog until finally reaching Lady Crow’s old shack.
He had been summoned back to his owner Lady Crow after instigating the conflict in Myst City.
He, of course didn’t mind in the slightest as he took supreme pleasure out of mayhem and destruction. The chaos he created was like a drug to him, he had been hooked on since he was young. He knew exactly what he had to do.
He peered around a slimy, green tree to see Lady Crow standing impatiently on the creaking old wooden porch.
Cassius strolled casually over to Lady Crow’s residence before realizing he was late and picking up the pace.
“Sorry to keep you waiting master, Apathy,” he groveled at his feet once he had reached her porch. She was not amused by his tardiness.
The Contracted Soul Page 8