Copyright © 2018 by Jeffrey Ellis
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The Wardens: The Seal of Solomon
Jeffrey Ellis
You think you know your history. You're wrong. What you know is an illusion, half-truths spoken by lunatics and twisted by erroneous retelling. Once, mankind wielded power. True power. Not the power of kings to raise taxes or the power of a thief to steal your coins. Mankind wielded the power of the gods. We wielded the power of arcane magic so fierce they could shatter nations and build armies of the dead. In our hubris, we warred against each other with no thought of ramifications and no concern as to the impact of those who could not use the Craft because we were fools. They were powerful fools but fools nonetheless.
My name is Merlin. I am a shade now and no longer able to walk in the world of the living but instead damned to drift through time as a remnant of my former glory. I have traveled the mist between life and death for almost two thousand years, as close as I can tell. Time is tricky when you have only the mind of lunatics through which to gain insight. Most cannot see me or hear my words and as such, I live an existence of solitary banishment brought upon me by my own ego. Occasionally there is one who can see or hear but never fully. They see a wisp on the wind or hear whispers in the back of their mind where their fears dwell. Those precious few who can hear my words are of no use. They border on the realm between sanity and psychosis. It's Fate's cruel punishment for my actions that the only people to whom I can tell my tale are those to whom others will not listen.
I pay this price for love and do not regret it. Once, I was a god among men and my power could shake the Earth and pull the stars from the Heavens. There were others like me, great wizards and powerful sorceresses. The kings of our day answered to us. We gave them the right to rule and, in many cases, we usurped them altogether. Some, like myself, were benevolent for the most part or even protective of those beneath us but even in our defense of humanity, we were reckless. To stop a dragon, we might shatter a nation. To stop the undead, we might wipe out a culture. The result was all we cared about and if we killed in our quest to save, so be it. Collateral damage became inconsequential as we grew in power and became more out of touch with those we considered beneath us and our ever-greater toll upon them went unnoticed.
Then came a child. He was a monster even by monstrous standards. His power was tremendous and his thirst for more power was insatiable. Your history calls him and his family legend but legend they were not. They were as flesh and blood as any other man that walked the Earth. Your legends say he is the son of Arthur, King of the Britons but he was no more Arthur's son than I was. His mother was indeed Morgana, your legends got that part right. Morgana was as bright and amazing as the rising sun. That her child could be so dark is the cruelest trick fate has played upon the world. He warred against everyone and his hunger for power knew no bounds.
It's no surprise your history is flawed. The lengths we went to in our attempts to quell his war pushed us to unthinkable limits. We fought valiantly against him but failed. His command of the arcane was beyond anything we had seen. Those of us who survived formed a Council and sought a solution. Solomon was the one who suggested the Seal and at first, we refused. It was unthinkable. He suggested we Seal the world away from the arcane and isolate the world from it. By doing so, we would cut the connection Mordred had to the arcane and eliminate his source of power. In doing so, we would also sever all connections to the arcane including our own. We had lived our lives, and for some that was hundreds or even thousands of years, immersed in that flow of energy and to suddenly be apart from it...the very idea was horrifying. It was also a death sentence for us. The arcane was so much a part of our being to have it torn from us would have been fatal.
In the end, though, we were left with no choice. Mordred was eliminating us one after the other and no one could stand against him. Our strength failed and at last, we accepted our fate that to stop him we must separate him from his source of power. We worked tirelessly to create the Great Seal, which we had come to call Solomon's Seal since he first suggested it. Eventually, we were ready to cast the spell that would seal the doorway to the Arcane and render us all impotent when it came to magic. We met at our last base of power. The rest had fallen before the onslaught of Mordred and only the great magic palace of Camelot stood. The castle guard, led by my protege Captain Arthur, guarded its gates. Yet even here, in our position of fortification and power, we knew time was running out. He was coming.
We devised a method by which most of us could slumber throughout the ages until magic returned. It was untested and risky, but we felt there was no choice left. Even to the end, Morgana remained stoic. She blamed herself but didn't let it show. It was her son who forced this action and while none held her or the father accountable, that didn't change how she felt. The ramifications of Solomon's Seal were not entirely foreseeable and one of the side effects was the creation of me, a specter, a shadow of life. I did it for love. She was not only the mother of Mordred, but she was also my wife and I sacrificed myself to save her. If only I could have stopped our son before he became the monster and avoided the war altogether.
But you knew none of this until now and what good will it do you? You can hear my words, so you must be as far from sanity as I am from life. You're not the first I've whispered to over the ages and maybe you're the rarity, the one with the right mix of genius and delusion that people will listen to you should you choose to pass along my tale. But even then, your own mind will warp what you have heard. Your delusions will cloud my words. The head of the guard will become the king. The grace of Morgana will be rewritten as a villain and the knowledge of the Arcane and true history of this world will be just another legend.
Maybe our last action as the Council succeeded and somewhere, hidden in the dark corners of the Earth they are still there. The Wardens we charged with preserving history, maintaining the knowledge of the Craft and keeping humanity safe from the horrors in the darkness until the day that Solomon's Seal might be safely broken might wait for us. I searched for them for centuries, but our preparations were too good and without my spells, I cannot locate them and gave up any hope of such hundreds of years ago. For all I know, I may have found them but could not tell due to the state of my existence. Hope is for the living and I am not among them.
#
The senior agents of Warden Facility 14 sat around the table for their regular briefing. The Wardens had numerous facilities throughout the world but 14 was their best. The agents who were assigned to it were the elite of their order and as such, were tasked with the most difficult and dangerous hunts.
Their order was ancient, dating back over 18 centuries. It was said that King Arthur himself was the first Warden. They had survived the Dark Ages, multiple world wars, the Unification War and countless other world-shaping events. They kept themselves isolated, staying true to their mission of keeping the world safe from the fey, the remnants of cr
eatures from an age before the fall of magic. They were technically known as the Wardens of Earth but nowadays were simply called the Wardens.
"Daily cell checks complete. All occupants accounted for. No breaches found. All chambers intact. No incidents to report," said the man and tapped the screen in front of him turning off the display.
The person next to him started to speak. "Regional reports in. No hostiles. All non-compliant activity attributed to mundane events. No Fey activity this week," said the brunette as she turned off her screen.
They continued around the table, people giving reports on various things like budgets and supply requisitions. When everyone was done, they gave their attention to the woman at the head of the table.
Coordinator Anna was young for her position. She was barely forty and already a Coordinator. She was taller than most women and despite the edges of her brown eyes starting to show traces of crow’s feet. likely brought on by the stress of her rank, she was still quite attractive. She kept her black hair short, preferring the efficiency of short hair to the more feminine cuts most women wore. She had an air of respect that was unmistakable and despite her looks and age, no one questioned her position. The Wardens did not give out promotions lightly and most people at her rank were almost twice her age.
She seemed as bored as everyone else as she cleared her throat. "Excellent work everyone. I know it's been quiet lately and quiet makes us restless but remember, ladies and gentlemen, in our line of work quiet is the best we can hope for."
"We have a new weapons line from the people in our R&D. They've managed to finally get cold iron incorporated into our blades without decreasing stability and only marginally increasing the weight so a second weapon will no longer be needed. After we're done here, report to Requisitions to exchange your weapons. They will continue to be bio-coded, so the usual imprinting will have to be done. Re-certification in swords will not be necessary. The Directors reviewed the new specs and the change in weight isn't enough to require it," she continued.
"Now that the routine business is done, onto more pleasant things. First and foremost, I would like to announce the promotion of Sir William to Facilitator. He will not be re-assigned and will report directly to me as second in command of this office." She stopped a moment while people congratulated her new second on his promotion then continued. "There will be a small gathering tomorrow evening and is completely optional, but I encourage you all to attend. We've rented the Dragon's Roost for the night and the bar will be open. That's all I have. Facilitator William, the floor is yours," Coordinator Anna said.
He looked around at the people he now commanded. He was about the same age as his boss and like her and all other Wardens, he kept himself in peak physical shape. He was not as broad or muscular as some men but his agility and stamina more than made up for it. He was impeccably dressed as always. He had his suits hand tailored, a skill nearly lost in the age of machines in which they lived. He was of Greek descent and could have passed for a Spartan were it not for his taste in expensive clothes. He had the bronze skin of the Spartans and his long black hair curled down his back. He tied it back when in the field but in the office, let it flow freely.
"You have been a phenomenal team and I know many of us, myself included, miss our prior Facilitator. His loss cut us deeply, but we are Wardens, we are first to our duty and second to ourselves. As I step up, it leaves an opening in our ranks. We're getting a green one to replace me. Squire Sebastian recently completed his Academy training and has been accepted in the Wardens. He will join us tomorrow morning. We have all worked together as a team for several years and it's difficult to bring in a new person to such a close-knit group, but we have to keep our ranks up. The Fey don't rest so we can't. Lady Chelsea, you will be Sir Sebastian's senior officer. Get him up to speed quickly. We hold our people to a higher standard and I want him to meet those standards ASAP," Facilitator William said.
Sir Mason spoke up, "You're assigning Lady Chelsea to him? Damn, William, what do you have against this new guy?"
Lady Chelsea looked over at him and fixed her icy blue eyes on him. "I trained you didn't I and you turned out okay. Mostly," the blonde said jokingly.
Lady Chelsea was a phenom. She was considered the best field agent currently active in the Wardens. Physically she was unimposing. She wasn't that tall and didn't have bulging muscles like many of her compatriots. Despite that, she had never failed in a hunt and had been moved to the position of lead trainer for the most elite group of Wardens in the world. Her fellow Wardens hated sparring with her because she never pulled punches and didn't lose. She herself had been trained by Facilitator William and she quickly passed him in skill.
Sir Mason looked back at her, "Yea and I have the medical records to prove you trained me. I still have scars from it."
"Aww, poor baby. Are they mental or physical scars?" she asked mockingly.
"Both," he replied laughing.
"Well then, that just means I did my job right," she said.
“Anyone have anything else before we adjourn?” asked Facilitator William.
“Seriously though, Facilitator...someone just out of the Academy is being accepted to Facility 14? That's unheard of. Shouldn't he get some field time under his belt at one of the other facilities? We don't get junior hunts. A rookie is going to get killed. I mean, I trust your judgment and all it's just...odd,” said Sir Franklin.
“It is odd. We did an extensive review of all possible candidates and selected him. This decision was made by the Coordinator and me jointly. For starters, his scores at the Academy are exceptional. He is fully certified in every weapon and skill needed. To put it mildly, he's a prodigy. We haven't seen many like him come through the Academy. He reminds me of Lady Chelsea when she first graduated training. There's also the lack of qualified candidates among the other facilities. With the lull in fey activity, many of the facilities have gotten slack in their standards and quite frankly, there isn't a field agent outside Facility 14 that I would trust to handle the class of hunts we take on. This kid will do okay. If I didn't think so I wouldn't have offered him the post,” said Facilitator William.
“I have a question,” said Sir Bradley. Bradley was their most senior agent and had more tenure and field time than both the Coordinator and Facilitator. He was aging though and knew his field time would soon be at an end. “Why are we still putting in all the effort when it looks like the fey are finally going extinct. Activity is down over 80% in the last few months and it was already tapering off months before that. We've finally done it. We won. Two thousand years of fighting and we can finally rest.”
“You can't be serious,” said Lady Chelsea.
“He has a valid point,” said Coordinator Anna. “We have seen a dramatic drop in fey activity and it's on a curve. It's dropped to nearly nothing in the last year and the people in the UniGov oversight committee are asking the same question as Sir Bradley. If this is the end of the fey then so be it. Unless and until we can say that for sure then we continue BAU. Everyone is acutely aware of the lull and I hope it's really a decline and not the calm before the storm. For now, we do what we always do. As the Facilitator said, the other facilities have gotten lax in the last year. Their training sessions have slowed, they're behind on re-certifications, they're just not living up to the name Warden but that's not us. In this room are the best agents the Wardens have active in the field and we all know it. In my life, I have seen few to rival you and most of those agents who could rival you served here. I would love nothing more than to never have to send my agents on what may be their last hunt. I consider each and every one of you a friend and I've lost too many friends over the years. For now, we continue as we always have.”
“Anything else?” Coordinator Anna asked and waited a moment. “Meeting adjourned.”
#
The next morning, Facilitator William and Lady Chelsea met Squire Sebastian at the main lobby. After security cleared him and verified his identity, Facilitator W
illiam greeted him.
The Wardens received many thousands of applicants a year. Each year, the three Warden Academies selected somewhere between fifty and a hundred candidates. Most of those who did make it to the Academy and graduate would never see field duty. Those who did were assigned to a Facility to begin their careers as fey hunters.
Lady Chelsea stared at him and felt her pulse quicken. She knew him from somewhere but couldn’t recall where. She brushed it off. She probably just saw him during an academy visit or read through a progress report on students and recognized him from his profile.
She didn’t dwell on the sense of familiarity and just chalked it up to her periodic visits to the Academies. They invited senior agents to speak with new recruits and she was a regular guest at the Academy in Boston where the recruit had trained.
She also felt an intense attraction to him. He was pleasant to look at. He was tall and broad-shouldered just like she preferred. He had soft hazel eyes and shoulder length brown hair. She made a mental note that when his training was over, she might have to take him for a test drive.
"Welcome to Warden Facility Fourteen, Squire Sebastian. It's good to see you again,” Facilitator William said, greeting him.
Squire Sebastian snapped to attention and saluted him. Facilitator William laughed at him and continued, "Lady Chelsea is going to eat you alive kid and don't salute. You're a Warden. This isn’t GloCom."
Squire Sebastian lowered his hand and Facilitator William continued, "This is Lady Chelsea. She is your SO and will be handling your training. She'll get you up to speed on our team, get you equipped and ready to go. Any questions?" the Facilitator asked.
"Yes, sir. What training? I completed the academy. I am already fully certified," said Squire Sebastian.
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