by Glen Johnson
An ancient writer called Plato first had the theory that the world had specific energy points that could be harnessed. The world was dissected by simple geometric shapes , then in to more complicated geometric shapes; these are known as Platonic Solids. There were five types, each representing one of the five known elements : Cube – Earth, Tetrahedron –Fire, Octahedron –A ir, I cosahedron –Water, and the last, little know element; Dodecahedron –Ether. Each one of these shapes , when slotted next to each other, created an all encompassing energy field that is the very basis of e arth, holding it all together.
Each city was sat on one of the worlds twelve major connecting points in the Platonic Solid grid. Altogether there are sixty-five major points; a few were being used by the demons. Some were under miles of solid ice or underwater. Others were on the tip s of mountains, thrust up by the changing world.
It had taken years of study to find the locations, because of the polar-shift and continental buckling. But with ancient methods, using Ley Lines, Curry Lines, Hartmann Lines and Black Lines, and finding a carving in an ancient temple of the Becker-Hagens Grid Map, along with powerful location spells, he had eventually narrowed the locations down, pinpointing them on today’s world, the same way the ancients Europeans did when they positioned Stonehenge, the Egyptians with their pyramids, the Rapa Nui’s monolith standing stones called Moai, on Easter Island, the South Americans with their Nazca Lines, and the Latin Americans and the city in Teotihuacán, and the Chaco culture. All used ancient arts to locate the worlds Energy Grid and to use it to their benefit. The same way that the main city used the earths own power, mixed with their powerful rune magic, to protect all inside its walls .
Simeon had been one of the first to study the ancient ideas, spending decades collecting information that had survived the Great War and ravishes of time and eventually indoctrinating it into their own understanding of the world. Luckily for them the ancients had been obsessed with writing everything down; tens of millions of books, all carrying the knowledge of their time. Much of their understanding of what happened had been pieced together by Simeon , this was one of the reasons he got on to the Council of Seven , and how he eventually be came the head of the c ouncil.
But nowadays being the head of the mag i was more bureaucracy than anything else. He had to k eep records of those governing the cities , and records of the food and water supplies, and census of civilians and magi.
It was much more interesting decades ago, but e verything that could be found out about the Great War and the reasons for it happening –and anything else they could learn and use –had all been accomplished. The world was at a dead end. Now it was simply a matter of survival; seeing how long mankind could survive against the creatures that hunted them.
The old sorcerer slowly lowered himself down in to the padded seat, and pulled the robe around his white knobberly knees for warmth. He could’v e made the sign of a basic rune and warmed the small room, but he wouldn’t be here for long, and he needed his magic for what he was about to accomplish.
Simeon stared unblinking out the window to the expanse of barre n wasteland that disappeared in to the distance. There was n o greenery –no trees or bush es, not even dry scrub, nothing, it was completely desolate. All that could be seen was a collection of marauding demons.
The magi didn’t really know where the city was located in the o ld w orld, before Armageddon. The world had completely changed , there had been polar-shift and titanic volcanic eruptions mixed with tectonic movement, all caused by the vast power released by the nuclear weapons of science. All these combined completely rearranged the continents. But the section the city rested on was believed to be the cradle of civilization, around the area of Iraq and Syria, possibly Egypt or Saudi Arabia.
They believed the city was positioned over the very first point recognized on the Power Grid by the ancient mystics: Babel in Babylon. It was hard to tell because oceans had changed, continents had realigned and rivers diverted. Also there has been thousands of years of erosion and more shifting. All they kne w was it was hot during the day and freezing at night , with l ittle water and even less shade. But this compared to everywhere else was paradise. Towards the northern hemisphere there were vast continent covering glaciers. The world was still trying to recover from what man had unleashed upon it thousands of years ago.
Simeon turned hi s attention back out the window to the demons prancing about below. There was always some out there, ranting and raving, screaming abuse and vengeance , while t hrowing stones or hurling magic. Nothing penetrated the barrier, it was simpl y mind games, reminding a ll inside that they were there.
Hide all you like but we will always be waiting .
Decades ago sections of the barrier would be lowered and fireballs, lightning bolts and other magical weapons would be hurled at the beasts. But they were soon replaced by other creatures, the screaming would continue. Killing them accomplished nothing, except wasting energy, weapons and magic. Now they simply ignored them, or rather tried as best they could. Most of the rooms in the Nimrod Tower that overlooked the Main Gate were empty; people didn’t want to be able to hear the constant agitation from the creatures o utside.
It showed the population was declining, because they could so easily vacate large sections of the city. The birth rate of the humans had been dropping steadily for twenty years; it was now down to thirty percent. Whereas the dwarfs and el ve s had almost doubled in that time. Evolution, it seems, didn’t favor mankind. Once they ruled, overpopulat ing and totally consum ing every inch of th e world and its resources . Now they were simply a minority. The demons were the new world virus.
From his window Simeon watched the collection of demons tossing stones and screaming guttural taunts. The only time the demons outside were confronted was when a traveling caravan rolled towards the city, or a group wanted to leave. Then the Order of Sanctum would pour forth and battle the creatures while the caravan entered, or the group leaving was far enough away not to draw attention or be worth chasing.
The Order of Sanctum was the Brotherhood of the Mag i’s army. Those that didn’t have the gift to hear the Voice were trained in other occults – witchcraft mainly. The spells didn’t emanate from their bodies, like the sorcerers, but from potions and artifacts that had magical runes engraved upon them. No one remembered where the name originated, or even what it signified. They knew it was an ancient language called Latin, and it meant, ‘Holy of Holies,’ but why the guards were first appointed the name was a mystery.
Simeon watched as a group of twenty or so lumbe ring vehicles, pulled by camels, trundled towards the city. Forty or so men encircled the caravan, weapons glinting in the cruel heat of day. The entourage was nervous. They were close to the city and safety, but the outskirts of any city was the most dangerous area to be in.
The collection of creatures that were taunting the guards behind the barrier now noticed the group heading straight towards them. Their screams and cries amplified; now they had some flesh they could rip into. The beasts turned and at full pelt headed towards the convoy.
Shouts could be heard from the sword bearers, muffled by distance. They collected at the front, running forward to meet the creatures away from the transport , and their women and children.
Below, just coming into view was the black clad Order of Sanctum, racing from the rising barrier, heading out on horseback towards the fray, to administer needed help.
Simeon looked on with mild curiosity. No supplies or caravans were expected for another week. Possibly just d r ifting nomads. People who lived in the wilderness and traveled selling wares from one city to the next. Preferring the so -called freedom of open space. But not so free when you were being attacked constantly, with no barrier for protection.
The guards from the city reached the creatures before they reached the caravan. They were hacked down from behind. They turned and fought tooth and nail. But they were only a small collection of tormentors and lowly demons whos e job wa
s to simply irritate. Had they known a caravan was coming more would have been sent to intercept it. A sign that something was brewing. Over the last couple of weeks the tormentors had dwindled to only a handful , and only low level creatures at most. They hadn’t seen a dragon or high level demon in months.
The guards circled the caravan and companied it the rest of the way. There was no other surprises; nothing charging from rocky outcrops, or swooping down from above. Something was defiantly brewing –it had been far too quite for far too long.
Simeon’s got tired of watching and returned his attention to the business at hand. He turned slightly in his chair and traced a rune in the air, which floated across the room and sea led the door in a locking spell. Metal sprung from where the spell hit, and like a metallic spiders web it encompassed the complete door, fixing it to the wall. He then lean ed back in to the large chair and with both hands drew a rune apiece, these c ame together and join ed , then spread over his head like a dome and came down to touch the rock floor. The runes multiplied and simmered with power. The chair he sat on started to lower through the solid flagstone flooring. It came to rest in a much larger chamber below his private library, down through five foot of solid, rune protected rock.
With a trace of a finger torches spluttered to life, revealing a large expansive chamber, with no windows or d oor s .
Simeon rose slowly and walked towards a small reliquary carved in a wall. Resting on a curved shelf was a simple round stone, carved with overlapping runes, covering its complete surface. With a simple touch of his hand the stone started to vibrate and levitate a few inches off the shelf. A mild breeze emanated from the reliquary, th is was the source of the rooms fresh air, it also remov ed the stale air .
A dais sat in the center of the chamber, with a flowing moat around its base. Small tongs of dancing blue flames whirled and danced from the moat, and was instantly dragged back to the shimmering liquid. On the dais was a foot high pillar, stood on top was a statue carved in the likeness of a young elegant woman. But she was slightly different from other females; this one had wings – an angel. She stood with her wings raised around her shoulders, dipping down over her head. Resting in her hands was a stone box, intricately carved. But the box wasn’t rectangular, instead it had many facets that twisted and turned in no apparent order, almost as if it was sitting in another dimension.
Simeon strode towards the statue, as he did so his robe brushed the moat, the shimmering liquid reacted to the runes inscribed around the hem of his clothing, and the three meter barrier parted. He now stood shoulder to should er with the carved stone statue. The churning moat refill ed behind him.
“Selene,” he whispered, tears formed in his eyes, as they always did when he stared at her beauty. He fingered a ring that rested on his left hand ring finger, or vena amoir : the vein of love . The ancients believed a vein ran from this wedding rin g finger straight to the heart.
Memories poured into him whenever he saw his wife’s gravestone. He had become an outcast by his own people. How could a novice mag us fall in love with a creature from their world? Regardless of whether she was an angel or not. A joining of the two races! Unheard of , and utterly unacceptable . And as soon as the elders found out about it he was punished and pulled away from her.
Selene had been a prisoner, caught by a raiding party who found a settlement close to the city. They had slaughter all in the creature’s village, even though it consisted simply of females. But none were human, dwarven or elf, so they were attacked without mercy or thought, slaughter ed like animals. Only she survived, to become a pet because of her phenomenal beauty, like having a bird of paradise in a cage, simply to be stared at.
Simeon shook his head, not wanting to remember anything more; how he had been young and full of love and fire –reckless. How he rescued her and made an escape. Their years of w a ndering in the wilderness. Shunned and hunted by both their kind. Memories, even after decades still hurt like fresh wounds.
“Time heals all things, ” they say . Rubbish! “It’s better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all.” Lies he mused.
His hand moved to the multifaceted box. I t opened with a single touch. The sides parted like the petals of a stone rose. Here lay the small leather book. The book that showed the way to the Temple of Time, to the Stone of Binding; something that would take his mind off the greatest love of his life, and the source of his greatest misery and shame.
His eyes opened in panic and terror. How? When? His mind screamed, panic quickly taking hold. The box was empty! Somehow, someone had entered his most private, protected chamber, past all his powerful magic and had crossed the defensive moat and opened t he box. How? It was impossible !
With rage that he hadn’t felt in years, he flung the box across the chamber, it hit the far wall behind his chair; it simply clattered to the floor unbroken. A powerful surge of raw magic poured from him, like a sonic boom from an explosion, washing over the complete room, turning his wooden chair to dust and blasting it against the solid stone walls, also destroying the flaming torches. The only light in the chamber emanated from the churning blue protective magical field around the statue –a magic al barrier that had failed him.
There was only one person capable of removing the Book. Only one gifted enough, and have the needed memories to remove the protective spells around the statue. How was it possible? She was far from the city! My greatest shame hidden from prying eyes.
He would get to the bottom of this, check with the Gatekeepers, no one could materialize inside the city walls from outside, the barrier was too powerful. Every person that came and went had to enter through the Main Gate. If she had been to the city she would have been registered. Not simply giving a name, which could have been fake, and using a disguise, but by magic. An ancient powerful Sphere hung above the Main Gate, its purpose was to register all that entered, and all that left, keeping track of the cities population, but also – more importantly – to check that those that entered were of the three races; human, elvin or dwarf, other races would set off the alarms and seal the gate.
But why? Why would she take the Book? Simeon confusion was replacing his anger. All she had to do was ask, and he would have let her see it. Would I have let her ? He thought . He had been guarding the Book for so long, hiding it from others, supposedly for protection, it was after all many millennia old. Of course he had to protect it, not letting just anybody rub their fingers over its brittle pages. Everyone wanted to see t he Book –their salvation. He never doubted his decisions before. Why start now , he thought?
Simeon returned from his musings, realizing that he had rested one hand on the statue to support himself. The burst of magic his anger had set off had weakened him .
I will head straight to the Main Gate and sort this out once and for all. But what if she had been here? Should I chase after her, now she ha s the Book? He tossed his hands in the air. It d oes n’t make sense, I ha ve just sent her a letter with the Spells locations. She didn’t need the book!
“My Shame,” he muttered. “Have you come back to haunt me?” He shook his head slowly, resting one hand on the smooth face of the statue of his long dead wife. “Ou r shame,” he said even quieter.
In one flash movement he pulled his hand free, turned, and walked with purpose, heading through the protective barrier to exit the hidden cham ber. Gone was the frail old man. He had to keep up appearances for everyone else’s sake, regardless of how or what he felt.
The runes around his robe hem flashed fiery red, crackling with power, instead of the sky blue they should have been, as the rune magic inscribed in the lettering lifted the magical field. The force caught him by complete surprise, tossing his frail old body backwards, crashing him into the stone statue. Simeon ’s body lay limp and unmoving over the blood splattered dais.
Chapter Nine
NIGHT WATCH
The strange collection of the three main species had been traveling for the best part o f the day, d
uring the scorching heat. The route was widely used and was easy to follow, so the elf’s tracking skills w ere not needed.
Leinthren trailed along behind, singing happily to himself, while randomly talking to passing bushes and rocks, and occasionally falling into a ditch or hole. On a few occasions , when he had gone silent for a little too long, one of them would turn around and notice he had fallen flat on his face some distance back, and was just laid face down on the ground – snoring. They had wasted countless miles while sorting out the drunken elf.
Pramos –while it was the dwarfs turn to look after the drunk –had tried countless times to get Minika to join him in idle banter. All to no avail. He gave up after one conversation, while he was talking about how much water could be harvested from a tubular tree, when she had simply turned and commented on how she was amazed that his lips weren’t chapped, due to them forever flapping. He took the hint.
Whil e they had been walking –wh en he wasn’t trying to strike up a conversation – he had been collecting different dry plants and roots, to supplement the supplies they had brought with them. In the desert you can never have too many provisions.
They found a small spring, just before dusk, and Pramos used a cloth mesh he always carried to filter clean water into their drinking containers. He could have let Minika use her magic to replicate more water, but each time she used her magic, even for something trivial, it weakened her. Besides, Droncin pointed out he would rather drink muddy water, or lick it from a dirty rocks surface than drink anything produced by magic. They asked the elf his opinion but he simply started at them cross-eyed.
Droncin, who was a remarkable lookout and hunter, had been walking up front, checking for ambushes and traps. Because it was a main road from the village to the city, it was most prayed upon by demons and other unsavory beasts. It had been way too quiet for way to o long. He had been itching all day to get some blood on his axe.