The Phoenix Chronicles: Alone in the Light (Book ONE)

by M. K. Williams

  Kristian caught Leceth’s strong upward strike well and pushed him away. They both took a few steps back to steady themselves; Kristian gasped for air. It was almost a weakness to breathe as Leceth stood there waiting, smiling at his far younger, living opponent.

  “You know, I have forgotten what it feels like to breathe,” Leceth smirked. “I cannot say I miss it though, especially now!”

  Kristian heard the taunt and was sickened by the arrogance in his tone. It will be his undoing, Kristian told himself. Use his arrogance. He launched into an attack, high, low, left, then right. Kristian was using every swordsmanship skill he had been taught, but it seemed like it was in vain. Leceth countered every attack and seemed to predict every move.

  Leceth made a sharp swipe at Kristian’s face, it was blocked beautifully as Leceth’s blade quickly swung out, to which Kristian stretched out his sword and caught Leceth’s left arm. Standing back, Leceth looked at his wrist and saw blood seeping out. At this distraction Kristian threw his hand out and launched a bolt of jade with as much force as he could muster. It threw Leceth into the air and across the room with such a force that he smashed through the wall and into another room.

  Kristian glanced at the main doors; he could make a run for it now, if he wanted. The thought faded; blinded by vengeance, he ran for the hole in the wall. Diving through into a large open kitchen, he realised how reckless an action it had been. The room was dark and he could hardly see a thing. Whilst taking in his surroundings he saw a flash of silver nearby and aiming a strike in that direction he swung his sword. Again he was in battle with Leceth, this time fighting on instinct alone.

  In the darkness he could hear Leceth’s menacing laugh; then a sharp pain burst into his right leg then his left arm, he realised he had been cut. The wounds were not severe but he could feel the blood trickling down his body. He needed to get out of this place. He pushed Leceth back and the vampire stumbled, falling over; he looked around for him but could make nothing out in the gloom. He looked about for some way to increase the light in the deathly dark room and contemplated generating some Kar’sin light. Kristian could not concentrate on projection, all his focus was on listening to his Phoenix and letting her guide his blade.

  The silence was broken by the menacing laugh again. “You have fought well. You fight like you are going to win, although you know that you will not. What is it you fight for?” There was a silence. “Is it revenge for your dear friend, the other Phoenix? The one who begged me for mercy?” Leceth laughed, more sinister and loud than Kristian had heard before.

  “You want revenge for his death? Do you even know why he had to die?”

  “I know why you butchered him!” shouted Kristian.

  “You think you know, but you do not,” Leceth replied.

  “You’re trying to remove the Phoenix element from the battle; you’re deluded if you think that you can contain the Phoenixes in jars,” Kristian shouted into the darkness.

  Leceth laughed harder than Kristian had heard. “I had not taken you for a fool, boy. However, you are as foolish as your leaders. If you want to know, I shall tell you. Just beg for it!” Leceth screamed with laughter as their swords collided again in the darkness. There were brief flashes of light as sparks flew. With each flash, Kristian caught sight of Leceth’s threatening and disturbing expression. He moved his blade as fast as he could through the air. Each stroke was coming from Saranthea, he just knew it.

  A weird sensation suddenly made his hand shudder, his blade had hit something soft and fleshy. A strange voice in his head said Shield, but before he could even register the thought, he was thrown back into the main hall by a bright white flash.

  Landing again in the entrance hall, his mouth was filled with blood, which he spat out. His sword was no longer in his hands. He looked over to the hole in the wall and waited for Leceth to emerge. Trying to stand, he felt a punch to the face and then another to his chest. He flew backwards, hit the wall behind him and slid down it.

  His body ached so much, he knew he could fight no longer; as that thought passed, Leceth appeared standing over him, holding a hand across his face.

  “Oh dear, no gun, no sword. You are all out of tricks, I would say.” With that, Leceth bent down and stroked Kristian’s face. “Oh you are a handsome boy!” he sneered. Kristian flinched away from his cold touch, “So are you going to beg?”

  “Go to hell,” Kristian screamed.

  “So feisty. Well, I want to correct your misunderstandings. Like it will do you any good, I just want you to die content! The plan is not to contain the Phoenixes by placing them in jars as you mistakenly believe. It is far grander than that. And if you don’t believe me, a word of advice: there are currently only seven urns in the world, well, six now, thanks to you,” Leceth taunted. He smiled as his finger probed Kristian’s wound on his arm, collected blood and licked it off.

  Kristian believed Leceth, why would he lie? “So what is the plan then?” Kristian’s asked, questioning in his mind what Leceth could be doing other than to trap the Phoenixes within.

  “Ha! I’ve changed my mind; you can die hungry for answers. Just put it this way, the plan is in full swing and when your people realise that the storm is on the horizon it will have already blown their house down,” Leceth derided.

  As Leceth stepped back, Kristian’s eyes fell upon his rings. The three rings on his left hand were impressive to look at. Then something suddenly clicked; Kristian suddenly knew that they must serve a purpose beyond being simple aesthetic trinkets for the vain Laceth. As a sword flew across the air into Leceth’s hands Kristian could hear the vampire’s voice in his mind, something Leceth had previously said to him.

  “Are you ready?” Without waiting for a reply, Leceth drew the sword back and swung it mightily towards Kristian’s face.

  Kristian closed his eyes, he knew what he had to do and, at that moment, he knew why he had to do it.

  The sword came close to Kristian’s face, he could feel the faint breeze brush his cheek. Then he opened his eyes, coinciding with a blinding jade-green flash. The sword instantly fell from Leceth’s hand point first, stabbing the ground close to Kristian’s legs.

  With horror twisting his face Leceth raised his left hand to look at it, his fingers fell away with the rings attached to them.

  He screamed out in pain as another bedazzling green flash hit him in the chest, sending him across the room.

  Kristian looked over at the detached fingers and was instantly filled with pride and a sense of accomplishment – he had thought to use non-palm projection to slice Leceth’s hand, he was amazed he had managed to master it.

  Pulling himself up, Kristian painfully made his way across the hall. He moved for the rifle; after picking it up he headed towards Leceth. Sitting there on the floor, cradling his hand, Leceth’s face was, for the first time, filled with fear. Kristian lifted the gun and aimed it at Leceth.

  “How? How did you know?” Leceth shouted.

  “Vampires can’t wield magic. They don’t have a soul. Something you said the first time we met just now came back to me and made me realise that your rings are the source of your power. I take it they all do something?” Kristian smiled in a sinister manner, resembling the one that Leceth had given him earlier.

  “You think that killing me ends it? The storm is still coming, killing me, all of this, it will change nothing,” Leceth shouted out.

  “Is that you begging?” Kristian smiled. “You can do better. And as for changing nothing, I think all this will change something.” He pulled the trigger sending a shot deep into Leceth’s chest. “It will change someone else’s destiny out there. For a new host will be joined.”

  Leceth started convulsing, his entire body shook and his accompanying screams were so loud that Kristian feared that they could shatter every window in the house. His eyes soon vanished into the sockets as his skin began to melt. He attempted to speak but his voice was garbled. “The defier of death comes. The storm will…
”

  He stopped trying to speak and in the same instant, he stopped shaking. It was not long before all that remained of the once great Leceth was a pile of moss green sludge.

  Kristian dropped the gun to the floor. He could not believe what he had achieved; he was alive and Leceth was dead. He slowly made his way over to Leceth’s fingers; gruesomely, he removed the three rings. Inspecting the half-blue gem ring, he could see that it resembled an eye. Accidentally moving the slit across, he vanished instantly; flicking it back, he reappeared. In amazement, he slipped all the rings into his pocket.

  Moving towards the hole in the wall, he glanced back at Leceth’s remains. It was over, he thought. “But why?” he spoke aloud, his voice confused. He looked at the body, why was he still numb? Questions filled his mind. Why was he still hurting? He had some crazy notion that by killing Leceth he would remove the pain. He was wrong; in fact it hurt more, and the numb feeling was now mixed in with a barrage of emotions.

  He tried to shake his mind clear, and moved off to find his sword. Retrieving it from the kitchen, he walked back through the hole.

  “Why?” he shouted aloud as he made his way to the main doors. He dropped the sword to the floor just in front of the main doors. Trying the handle, he found the doors still locked. He began to punch it. With each punch his fists bled, the wood splintered and dug deep into his knuckles.

  For a minute or more he attacked the doors, with no real purpose other than to hurt himself and inflict more damage

  The doors were starting to appear damaged but were still holding firm, he stepped back and glanced down at his blood-soaked hands. He fell to the floor with a loud thud and screamed. Dazzlingly bright blasts of green light flew from all over his body outwards, striking walls, stairs and ceilings; it sent shards of stone, wood and metal everywhere.

  As he finished screaming, so too did the jade light. He propped himself up to look at the mess in the room – the death, the destruction. His knuckles sent stabbing pain up through his arms and he could not stop the feelings in his heart. He flicked his legs out and his head fell into his palms. The tears began to pour out. It had been quite some time since he had last cried, he had kept it in for so long, but now had no choice but to open the floodgates.

  Kristian sat and cried for over half an hour, for every tear that dropped there was a reason behind it, an emotion or fear that he had kept within for too long. When he could cry no more he simply rose to his feet, his face red and emotionless. He had changed, he had shed much of himself this day, left so much behind here, in Leceth’s house.

  …

  - Chapter Twenty-Four -

  The Clean-Up

  Bursting into Jonathon’s office with concern all over their faces, Rachel and Kieran struggled to catch their breaths.

  “What’s the problem?” Jonathon asked.

  Kieran froze. Rachel spoke and the words left her mouth quickly as if by saying them fast it would make them not true or less real. “It’s Kristian. He’s gone!”

  Jonathon immediately leapt to his feet, knocking papers off his desk as he rose “What do you mean gone? Gone where?” Sweat began to form on his temples as he realised that he knew the answer to his question.

  “He’s not here, we have searched everywhere. I think he went after Leceth. Jonathon. I’m so sorry,” Rachel said emotionally.

  “Are you sure? I need to know now,” Jonathon bellowed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m certain,” Kieran said, not looking directly at Jonathon. He hesitated before he spoke, believing that he was somehow betraying Kristian.

  “Damn that boy!” Jonathon’s face had turned a deep shade of purple and the veins in his head were throbbing uncontrollably. How could Kristian be so impulsive? So, stupid? he thought. Jonathon stormed back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Julia? Wake everyone now. Send them to the meeting room immediately,” he slammed the phone down and turned back to Rachel and Kieran “You two, check the building again, check everywhere. Rachel, teleport to his flat if you have to.”

  “Of course, but I’m sure he’s not here. I took him to Bath nearly an hour ago,” Rachel admitted. Jonathon’s face dropped. He stated that his orders still stood and he waved the two of them off.

  The pair rushed off together but they knew as well as their boss that it was pointless to search the building or London for that matter. They knew where Kristian was. “What’s going to happen, Kieran?” Rachel asked him, looking up with forlorn eyes. “What will happen to him if he, you know…”

  Kieran cut her off and placed his hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know, let’s hope he’s had a change of heart and we find him back in his room or flat. I can’t believe he’s done this.”

  With that, they hurried along the corridor towards the elevator, their emotions all over their faces, the panic, the concern, the hope.

  Moments later, Jonathon left his office with his secretary, Julia, at his side. She was a large woman and the strain was evident on her face as she struggled to keep up with him pelting down the hallway. The pair entered the main conference room. Yi-Mao and Brendan were already sitting down, looks of bewilderment on their faces, and before Jonathon could take his place at the table, Andrew and Roman entered the room, seconds later followed by Peter. Jonathon took a deep breath and stayed standing to face them all.

  “I believe that Kristian has gone after Leceth this evening.” The faces in the room all dropped.

  “What on earth do you mean ‘gone after?’ You cannot be serious?” Peter exclaimed, looking extremely worried.

  “I am absolutely serious, Peter. I’m not sure exactly when he left or if he has even made it to his destination yet, but we need to get to him now, and stop him from whatever he is planning to do.”

  “What is wrong with that kid?” Brendan cried. “Why does he think that everything is down to him, like he’s so bloody important or something? This is it, Jonathon. Once we find him, that’s it, you have to throw him out of the Order. The boy is reckless,” Brendan demanded.

  “OK, Brendan, I’m sure Jonathon knows how he is going to handle the situation,” said Andrew softly. He looked over towards Jonathon. “Don’t you, Jonathon?”

  “Yi-Mao, Brendan, Andrew and Roman, I want you to get to Leceth’s residence, now. Tread carefully though; try to intercept Kristian before he goes any further. Do not let Leceth see him, or you. Moreover, remember, we may be wrong about this, so be wary. We don’t want another incident on our hands.” As soon as Jonathon had finished speaking he headed towards the door. The four men nodded in agreement as they too made their way to the door. As they exited into the hallway, a flood of people came towards them. Amar, Zhing, Sam and Jean were storming down the corridor followed closely by Kieran and Rachel.

  “What’s happening?” a voice asked through all the commotion.

  “We’ve looked everywhere and he’s definitely not here,” said Rachel. “I teleported to his flat and his friend Jess said that she hasn’t seen him either.”

  “Thank you,” nodded Jonathon. “The rest of you go into the conference room and Rachel and Kieran will update you. As soon as you have been informed of the situation I want search parties and use all the powers necessary to find him.” Jonathon ushered them into the conference room and then turned to Peter who was standing next to him waiting anxiously for orders. “Peter, my office now.”

  Inside the conference room, Rachel and Kieran informed the rest of the team about what had happened, that they believed Kristian was hunting for Leceth. Kieran did not tell anyone what had happened between him and Kristian though. He knew it was a mistake not to tell them.

  …

  As the dark figure crossed the threshold into Leceth’s house, she noticed how it had been forced from the inside. Her eyes widened as she saw the state of the mansion. Such destruction, she thought to herself, it must have been a fight to witness. The stench of rot filled the air and blocked her nose.

  She closed her eyes. She could feel tha
t Leceth was dead and was somewhere in the house. On opening her eyes, she glanced to the far wall and saw the green sludge on the floor; she knew with certainty that this was all that was left of Leceth. As she walked over to examine the ‘corpse’, her heels clunked loudly on the marble floor.

  Bending down she placed a gloved finger in the moss coloured pulp and swirled it around, “Well Leceth, I suppose immortality is just a word. Although, if you hadn’t been so pig-ignorant, maybe you would still be expressing it!” She stood up and flicked the slime off her finger. She moved towards the open doors opposite the entrance. The room was a complete mess. She trampled over the debris and shards of wood and glass towards the vault. She glanced around at the many wonders that lay within. “In here. NOW!” she shouted.

  At this command, a horde of people came flooding into the room. “I want everything in here. Forget the things on the floor, just the stuff from the vault. And don’t directly touch that globe.” As she spoke she took off her robe and threw it over the flame-filled ball flickering in front of her.

  She moved back into the hall and suddenly noticed another prized artifact lying on the floor. She glided elegantly, though loudly, towards it. She dipped down, one graceful leg kneeling, as she gripped the hilt. “A Phoenix blade,” she whispered. She flipped it around to see the emblem on the handle. “Saranthea,” she chuckled to herself.

  Her eyes closed and her smile stretched thin; opening them in a flash the look on her face changed, her head turned jerkily to the others. “Hurry up, we’re going to have company very soon.” She moved to the door as the many helpers followed, carrying the artifacts that had once been in Leceth’s secret vault.

  On the driveway, a huge van was parked up and her men were filling the back with the prized possessions. She began to walk down the long path, kicking up the gravel with her heels as she did so. The sword, which she now held in her hand, swung back and forth absent-mindedly as she crunched over the stones. In front of the van, a black Jaguar was parked. Similar to the ones driven to the Order some time ago by the members of the Council of Tivernal. The number plate read ‘ED4EVA’.