The Spell of Binding (Part One)

by Glen Johnson

  Demon blood was good for polishing metal; it gave it a dark sheen. The metal became darker with every kill. It was almost a sign of position, the darker your axe, the more you fought and survived. The legendary king Dracko’s axe, at the midnight Battle of Tarnac, was supposedly so dark that the beas ts wouldn’t even see it coming.

  Minika simply walked as if the heat and dust didn’t affect her in the slightest. She didn’t even seem to sweat. She had so much going on in her mind. Going over and over the letter. The words use, and unused. Once she got to the city of Keep Safe, she would use their communication Sphere to talk to the Council of Seven ’s leader, Simeon – her father.

  *

  The nights were always cold, bordering on freezing just before dawn.

  Pramos had built a large fire, with the dwarfs help. Even though he was the smallest, the dwarf was by far the strongest of the group. He w a ndered back with arms full of dry logs and whatever he could find that would burn ; and in the wastelands that wasn’t much.

  The fire was built up against a cliffs overhang. They were on the highest elevated point they could find, using it for protection and a better view across the desert below. The rock face minimized the directions they could be attacked from, and the sheer rock radiated heat back from the fire.

  Pramos sat staring into the flickering flames. His bedding was laid out close to the fire, right next to Minika’s, without being rude or intrusive. He kept f lashing sideways glances at her to check what she was doing. All the while he sharpened his short sword, or more aptly, a long dagger. It was one of his most prized possessions. He found it many years ago on one of his gathering expeditions. The skeleton he took it from wouldn’t need it any more. He just hoped when the time came he would be better at wielding it than its last owner. He also began wondering if he had it on him the morning before –when he ran in to the Tigerman –would he have attacked straight away. He put the thought from his mind.

  “Give it to me,” Minika said without even turning her head.

  “Pardon?”

  Instead of repeating what she had already said, the mag us just gently snatched the short sword from Pramos ’ hand . Then reaching into the flames she took out a short stick that had a burning end. Then carefully, and precisely, she started to write runes down the center of the blade. When she finished one side, silently she flipped it over and repeated the process again.

  Pramos sat transfixed. The runes are an ancient written form that only the magi had mastered. They carried great power, and is the source of all their magical abilities.

  Once she had finished she check ed both sides for unity, then passed it back.

  Pramos held it at arms length. The runes were still glowing a fierce red colo ur . But as he watched they started to fade, leaving the runes engraved into the metal.

  “The runes will keep the blade for ever sharp. Sharper than you could ever achieve by rubbing it on stone or leather.” Minika retu r ned to what she was doing before. Then as an after though she raised her head towards the dwarf. “I would offer you the same, but I know you would decline.”

  Droncin had his axe handle between his boots, and was rubbing the blade with two different types of oil. He si mply nodded his understanding.

  Leinthren was already asleep. After pulling out a very thin, intricately laced blanket, and laying it out on the ground, he had fallen in t o a deep, thankfully snore-less sleep within minutes of setting up camp. Elf’s, being cold blooded, didn’t need thick blankets at night, due to not feeling the cold. They simply accepted any temperature without complaint, and apparent feeling. And, of course, not feeling the cold, apart from a blanket to shield them from the dusty ground, they used no other sleeping equipment. They didn’t like the feeling of being smothered.

  A pot boiled softly over the flames with a co llection of wild onions and herb s, and a handful of skinned and boned leaping lizards. Once a nest had been found it was simply a matter of standing next to the hole and slamming a boot on the ground. The strange little jumping lizards then leaped around, to distract predators. You simply plucked them out of the air.

  Droncin wasn’t too impressed, saying it wasn’t real hunting, just trickery. Even though he hadn’t caught any larger game himself.

  “I will take first watch,” Droncin said.

  “I second,” Minika said, to everyone’s amazement. They didn’t expect the mag us to do such a menial task.

  Pramos looked down at the elf. “I will finish the night watch off.”

  The night was bitterly cold and way too quiet , a s if something huge was hunting in the wilderness and everything, demon included, w as hiding in the deepest caves.

  They finished their meal and started preparing for a night under the stars.

  Pramos walked over to the lip of the cliff. He looked up. The stars shined like a billion crushed diamonds. The full moon was huge and bulbous, taking up a large section of the horizon.

  Pramos stood with his feet wide apart and raised his hands as high and wide as he could, while trying to fill the whole circle of the moon. He used to do this with his brother. Janos was much taller so he could reach that little bit further. He missed his brother so much he couldn’t put it into words.

  When he turned he noticed the dwarf stood to one side, watching him.

  “It’s best if we all stay close together.” The dwarf stated. He didn’t ask the human what he was doing stood like a starfish.

  Without a word Promas wandered back to his bedding.

  Greybeard watched as Promas settled down for a few hours sleep before his watch started.

  Humans are so strange, the dwarf mused. He then removed his flask of oil and settled down on a boulder. With slow purposeful strokes he started to oil his axe blade.

  *

  Not too far away Slis and Qwat sat hunched together in a shallow cave.

  Slis was trying to keep warm by completely wrapping himself around Qwat, whose body was like a furnace. Qwat’s mouth was almost as wide as his square head , which simply dropped into a huge gullet. Smoke was always rising from between his flat , square, grinding teeth.

  Qwat survived on rocks, the more mineral deposits the better, but generally any stone composition would do. Hence, he was never hungry; stones of some description were always available. If the worse came to the worse, he could live on sand; he simply wouldn’t need to chew it.

  Slis, on the other hand, was hungry. In the morning, when the group moved on, he would slither out and see what food had been left behind. He hoped to f ind something nice; he had a delicate stoma ch.

  It wasn’t all bad though. Regardless of how uncomfortable they were, they were still excited about their mission.

  Chapter Ten

  THE PROPHETESS

  Vorr slowly walked along, his anger gradually leaving him. How I hate that damn vampire. Maybe I w ill hold all the Heads of Houses meeting s outside from now on, in the blazing sun. He chuckled to himself ; a n unpleasant sound.

  Compared to the throne room the chamber he was heading towards was comparatively small, but in res pects of sheer size the chamber was still massive; and just as full, but for a completely different reason.

  Vorr’s immense bulk rounded another corner, his towering height caus ed his wing tips to rub slightly on the ceiling. He made a mental note to have the ceiling raised, as he did every time he walked this way. But as always he forgot all about it as soon as he reached his destination.

  He hated having to go and see her, but knew it was important. He knew he wouldn’t get the information out of her until the time was right. She had been under his protection for over two thousand years; that was a lot of food –she was no lightweight when it came to the eating department.

  Offhandedly, he wondered when she had last seen the light of day. He thought that was ironic, considering what some humans thought she use d to be.

  Tonight was possibly one of the most important meetings he would have since returning to this world. He had been waiting
hundreds of years to hear what she would say. It all seemed an anticlimax. Maybe he should be following a musical procession, or all the House Heads. Walking down silently and alone seemed wrong somehow.

  Vorr could hear a low droning as he approached the next corner. The heat started to get stifling, and considering he was a demon, then that mean t it was getting extremely hot.

  The walls were dripping with pale goo; bubbling and rolling down the heated rock, as if the stone itself was crying. Small beetle type creatures scurried about underfoot. He dared not step on one, that would make her angry . And even though technically he was king, he didn’t think that really mattered to her. Down here, she ruled.

  Vorr rounded the last corner, deep, deep down under his throne room. The chamber was vast, but cluttered. She ha d hundreds of helpers –feeders.

  Vorr came to a halt, right on the edge of a cliff that dropped down into a fier y pool of magma that ran off in to the gloomy distance; always churning, bubbling, rising and spitting. And there, hanging above the superheated rock, surrounde d by protecting, feeding mini ons, hung the Great Prophetess.

  She hung upside down like a hug gluttonous sack, with hundreds of her young moving constantly over her body.

  Vorr could understand how an ancient tribe (ancestors to the Egyptians ) upon seeing her began to worship her, and how thousands of years later, in Egyptian mythology, she was still looked upon as a Goddess –Khepri, the Great Scarab beetle –The Sun. Even after she, along with all the other dark creatures, had bee n banished to another dimension .

  The p rophetess noticed Vorr’s presence. Without a word all the smaller creatures started to spread their wings and fly off her body. Others were scurrying up the huge tethers that connected her to the roof of the cavern, all disappearing from sight, shooting down holes that doted all the walls. A small collection landed by Vorr and started to scuttle in to a pile, r esembling a nightmarish, living chair, a ll controlled by her hive mind.

  He hated sitting on it, but it would make her happy. Slowly he lowered himself into its grasp. He hated how they moved under his weight; always shifting, clicking and rustling.

  Now they had removed themselves off her, she was radiant. With the heat from beneath her wing casings glowed with an inner power – she shone like the very sun. Her two powerful, immense wings opened, revealing an oily, reflective body. A small head twisted in Vorr’s direction.

  “You have come for the prophecy?” Her hoarse voice reverberated throughout the chamber. Grit and small sta lactites fell from the ceiling.

  She doesn’t get wiser with age , Vorr thought to himself. “Yes, Great Prophetess.”

  “An age I have waited to impart my vision. Worlds have come and gone.” She shifted; a tether broke, falling to the magma, it boiled around it, consuming it.

  “I will describe my vision, our king…”

  Vorr stood. He had been protecting and feeding her for a millennium, preparing for this day.

  Chapter Eleven

  OLD MEMORIES

  Simeon woke up cold and aching from every joint. He lay still, his mind was confused. For a few brief moments he didn’t know where he was. He went to move his head off the cold stone flooring. Where am I ? he wondered .

  His head fell back to the hard flagstone. Darkness returned .

  His confused mind jumped to the past.

  An image appeared in his minds eye, an image of the first elf he had ever saw ; glorious and radiant – beautiful. He remembered the story of how they had first appeared. A t first there was just glimpses, flashes in the night. What could they be? Rumors spread quickly. Maybe it was a mutated form of a human-type biped that had been living in the deep wastelands?

  Then the first ambassador for the elves approached the human race, in all his splendor and magnificence. It was a time of suspicion and open hostility. Where did they come from? The elves were tightlipped and only imparted limited information . Decades passed . Skills were traded. Trust was eventually gained. The elves became trusted advisors to great magi’s, and kings of old.

  Then somethi ng different appeared – dwarfs!

  At least dwarves look similar, simply smaller. But people whispered, what more was coming? How much sparse land did they have to give up? The suspicion started all over again. Three races trying to live side-by-side. Each with its own laws and rulers. Each with its own beliefs and customs. Times were har d. At first bickering turned in to fighting. Small wars broke out. Eventually all-out war. It was a complete massacre.

  Over the years everything settled down, people became accustom to the new arrivals, even though no real answers as to where th ey came from w as ever given.

  Eventually acceptance was granted. They became New Mankind. Three races, living side-by-side as one. Small skirmishes – mainly land disputes –still erupted from time to time, but nothing major. The kings at the time sorted the disputes out.

  Simeon’s eyes flickered. The aching rushed back over his old worn body. He slumped back to the flagstone flooring, unable to conjure the strength to lift his body. Dizziness returned.

  Memories flooded his aching mind. Flashes of the distance past. He was young and carefree. A diffe rent time completely. Decades had passed, elves, dwarfs and humans now lived side-by-side.

  Simeon remembered training as a young apprentice, strong willed and eager to learn. A physically perfect body, schooled in the arts of athletics and warfare. This was years before he had to take his place in defending a city against the destructive hordes of hell. A time of relative peace. He had been cocooned from all the violence behind tall, magically protected walls. He had never left the protection of the city. Everything outside was just stories. He was happy with what he had.

  A memory jump to a different age, the age of fighting, when he had to face the creatures for the first time. It was horrific. Stories and training hadn’t prepared him for what he had to face.

  He could easily imagine the complete destruction when they had first appeared . What New Mankind had managed to build was destroyed so quickly by them. How they were scattered, lost without direction, and utterly confused. Picked off with ease and violence. It had taken years to rally the magi to fight back. Years to organize a decent defense. Years to create a magical barrier that they couldn’t penetrate . A barrier they now all took for granted . The three races of New Mankind had to pull together as never before. They had no choice. Unite or die was the new banner they all rallied under.

  Simeon’s eyes fluttered again. This time his senses started to return. The images of his minds eye were banished bac k to old corners of his memory.

  Every inch of his old body ached with a fierce intensity. He managed to prop himself up on one elbow and scan his surroundings. His memory returned like a kick in the face, he almos t flinched at the recall .

  Someone had betrayed him. Hurt him. Tried to cause him real physical pain – and succeeded. His anger started to burn, washi ng away the pain his body felt.

  He lay across the base of the statue, with the swirling moat of runes still encircling him. He cast his eyes down to the runes sown into the hem of his garment. The cause of his suffering. Someone had tampered with them ; chang ed them. He received clean clothes each day, laid out by an assistant.

  How had someone managed to tamper with my runes ?

  Long ago he used to check them, make sure they were joined properly –sown rig ht. Over time he had slipped in to a habit of simply putting t hem on.

  Who would want to hurt me? Everything I d o is for the good of the majority. I have given up years of my li fe to the betterment of others.

  Simeon’s anger was growing like a volcano; building, pushing at the limits o f his physical body. In a flash all the pain was washed away . He sprung to his feet as if on elastic. With a wave of his hands runes burst forth, battering away the ones sown on his garments, obliterating them completely, causing the bottom of his clothing to flare up in magical green flames. They died as quickly as they started; leaving his k
nees visible through the tattered remains. In another flash of his hands –his sleeves flying like things possessed, his age completely forgotten –runes ripp ed the moats protective barrier apart. Electrical discharges flicked about the chamber, blowing chunks out of the wall and statue. Still Simeon continued. In one final display of sheer power the moats protective safeguards exploded, and after one mighty flash the chambe r was left in complete darkness. Smoke hung heavy in the stagnant air.

  Simeon’s shoulders sagged in the darkness. Slowly, his breath returned, bu t his anger was still building.

  Someone ha s taken the Book. Someone tried to kill me . Someone was going to pay dearly.

  A lesser being would have been incinerated by the magic he used to protect the artifact. But the magic was his, created by him.

  With a simple flick of his wrist a rune glowed in the smoky chamber, highlighting the devastating power his magic had unleashed. Stone and rubble littered the floor. The only thing left standing, even though it had an arm missing, and chunks gouged out of it, was the statue. Simeon gave it a quick glance, knowing deep down that it was both of their fault th is was happening – their shame.

  At this though his anger had now turned psychotic, years of built up emotions waiting to be unleashed. Instead of rising bac k up through the stone flooring and along the corridors, he went directly out the thick stone wall, which was suspended above the Main Gate. In a shower of falling masonry and massive stones, Simeon, like a vengeful ancient mythical God, landed right next to the powerful Sphere that hung above the main entrance to New Babel.

  Chapter Twelve

  DESERT HEAT

  Slis and Qwat stood looking down in to the fading embers of a fire. Before leaving t he group had tipped s and over the fire to smother it . Slis found this funny for some reason, wondering why they had bothered.