The Paladin's Redemption (The Keepers of White Book 3)

by Richard Crofton

  “Learning magic is similar. I told you that I was a healer when I was part of a faction. Those types of spells came more easily to me than others. My friend Barbara’s expertise was in foresight. Other Keepers grow strong with mind manipulation, persuasion, protection spells, and so on. But even as a healer, I was a very low-level one. I picked up a little of everything though. The healing spells I learned were just a slightly higher level than the other ones.”

  “So you were a jack of all trades, but a master of none?”

  “Right,” he affirmed. “But there’s something else. One thing I excelled at.”

  She didn’t know if he paused in order to determine the best way to explain, or if he was doing it for dramatic effect. “Go on,” she prompted.

  “Okay,” he continued. “While we spend all that time meditating, which again takes several years for most of us just to get a feel of that other plane of existence, sometimes we develop things that are not spells, but more like abilities.”

  “Abilities?”

  Michael nodded. “It’s like gaining one spell that has many effects, but it’s not really a spell because I don’t cast one. I just think, and it happens.”

  “What happens?” she asked, completely intrigued with his explanation.

  “Complete manipulation of myself. Control over my mind and body in a way that no one would think is possible. It’s like I tap into my own energies, not the energies outside my body that come from the dimension where the Alpha Magic exists. It’s like I draw the magic into me. And when I know it’s there, I can do a lot of things to myself.”

  “What do you mean, ‘to yourself?”

  He went on, “Steady hand, quick reaction timing, moving with stealth, anything that involves my own mind and body. I can heighten or numb any of my five senses, slow down my heart rate, hold my breath for a long time, pass a lie detector test… it goes on and on. It’s how I was able to break down that door last night to get to you. And how I took out their body guards single handedly. And how I took them down so efficiently.”

  “Faster than a speeding bullet,” she mocked sarcastically, “able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?”

  He gave her another smirk. “Oh, so you saw that movie huh? I guess there’s some hope for you.”

  She gave a laugh. “So,” she continued, “how do you know it’s there? How do you know the magic draws into you so you can… you know… use these abilities?”

  His eyes were fixed on the road as he spoke. “It might sound silly to you.”

  “Michael,” she protested, “after everything I’ve already learned about this, you’re going to hesitate now?”

  Not turning to her, he finally answered. “I hear it. Like music. It comes to me like music, and that’s how I know what to do. I just follow the rhythm I hear. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

  “It’s okay,” she stopped him. “You don’t have to try. I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I find it all incredible.”

  “Sometimes I still do too,” he admitted. “So, to sum up, I’m very limited when it comes to casting white spells, even when I was at my best. Then came the day when…” he paused for a moment, though Megan didn’t need him to finish as she knew the day he was referring to, “…my life was turned upside down. From then on, I’ve had difficulty reconnecting with the Alpha Magic. A Keeper of White draws it from his love for nature and humanity; that’s the power of the Alpha Magic. In fact, Keepers of White were initially called themselves the Keepers of Alpha, but throughout time the Alpha Magic was eventually just referred to as white magic, and consequently the Keepers changed their title as well.

  “Anyway, a Keeper can only master white magic when he is at peace with himself… when there is no anger or hatred in his heart. It took me a very long time, spending several hours a day starting back at the basics. You know… just meditating, just so I could do something as simple as throwing my voice or the candle trick.”

  “But you did get it back eventually.”

  “Like I said, it’s not what it used to be. But the weird thing is, I never lost these abilities, the ones that give me quick reflexes or a steady hand. It’s like when I drew that part of the magic into me, it never left.”

  Megan watched his expressions curiously as he spoke. “And you have no idea why that is,” she commented, remembering what he had said the night before.

  “None,” he replied, shaking his head. “But I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway, that’s how I beat them last night. Not through the use of white magic like they might have expected, but through my knowledge of certain substances and items that can aid against their dark incantations, like the mustard seed. And my… very unexpected aggressive approach.”

  “Unexpected?”

  “Keepers don’t engage with intent to harm. We’re only meant to prevent evil nonviolently, and to heal. A lot of us develop at least some of the physical attributes I have, but we’re only meant to use them for self-defense. Needless to say, I ignored that particular policy last night, and I’m sure it took them off guard.”

  “Right,” she remarked. “You broke your Code. You mentioned that before.” She pondered for a moment. “Does this mean you’ll get in trouble? Is there like, a board of directors that monitor you guys and make sure you follow the rules and all?”

  “I don’t think there are too many of us left, darlin’. If there are, they haven’t organized a large enough faction that I know of, or they’re underground… laying low.”

  “How would you know if they have or haven’t?”

  “Keepers are often drawn to each other. I can easily find another Keeper, unless he or she doesn’t want to be found.”

  “How?”

  “It’s complicated. Let’s just say that the Alpha Magic leaves a mark on its user that only other Keepers can trace. It’s not a tangible mark. More like something we sense.”

  “And how often do you find yourself drawn to another Keeper?”

  Michael’s voice lowered, becoming more serious as the conversation continued. “Never. Not since I found my faction shortly after I aged out of the orphanage. Once we were torn apart by the Agents of Shadow who discovered us, I’ve only been drawn to the surviving members. Keepers I already knew. Like my friend who helped me find you.”

  “Barbara,” she said with a strangely cold tone. He had given her very few details about his visit with her, and said nothing of their friendship in the past, yet for no logical reason at all, she felt a tinge of jealousy when he spoke of her. She hoped it was all just in her head and not more of the psychic connection thing. “How many of you survived?” she asked, trying to push the irrational thoughts out.

  “There are only three of us left,” he answered solemnly. “That was over ten years ago, and I haven’t been drawn to a new Keeper since.”

  Megan put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Michael.”

  “Well,” he compensated, “it doesn’t mean they’re not out there. Like I said, I can only locate another Keeper unless he doesn’t want to be found. It’s possible that many of them have put a sort of psychic wall to prevent other Keepers from being drawn to them.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Out of fear. Fear of being discovered. Those of my faction mates who survived did the same thing. We’ve been hunted by the Agents for centuries, Megan. They are very few as well, but the priest wasn’t lying about the amount of control and influence they have over society. There are probably thousands who work directly for the Shadow Agency who don’t know a thing about casting dark magic, but they do their part in preserving the strength and status of their secret organization. Keepers on the other hand are pretty much operating on life support these days. Most of them, those that are left, have neglected their duty and obligation to protect the innocent. Their main priority now is secretly passing down the knowledge so that it’s not forgotten… in the hopes that one day, if humankind can advance to a world where wealth and power is
not valued over people’s lives, they can resurface.”

  Megan looked out her side window for a while before asking any further questions. She was young, living at an age when very little outside one’s own circle mattered, but she knew how cruel and selfish the world could be, even before it affected her directly in the form of these so-called Agents of Shadow. In a world completely infested with greed, lust, and selfish desires, it wasn’t hard to figure out why they were faring far better than endangered Keepers of White. “Do you think humankind will ever evolve like that?” She asked hopelessly.

  Michael sighed. “It’s almost a rhetorical question isn’t it?”

  She nodded despondently.

  “Humanity has so much potential,” he continued. “Humanity has the power to become so much better than it is. But the problem with humanity is that human nature keeps getting in the way.”

  Megan took a sip of her coffee. It didn’t soothe her much. “Was there ever a time when your kind had more influence than these agents?”

  “It doesn’t seem so,” he admitted, “but the records I’ve acquired tell of a time long ago when they did. They still worked secretly, still used their gifts to benefit mankind. If anyone was discovered practicing the dark arts, the Keepers would use their influence to have them apprehended by authorities, in which they would answer for their crimes against humanity.”

  “So the Keepers didn’t hunt them the way they’re being hunted now?”

  “No,” he responded. “They only exposed their crimes. They let the law of whatever civilization they were part of handle the rest. The Paladins I spoke of were only sent if a person using dark magic had grown too powerful for normal law enforcers to contend with. None of this is proven, mind you. Just legend really. But we’ll never know for sure. What I do know is that there came points when dark users formed alliances and focused their magic to acquire wealth and power secretly, until they gained influence over the masses. All it takes really is for one, or several of them, to hold a designated position that gives them such influence. Like a politician. Or, back in the day, a lord or magistrate. You get the idea.”

  “So they weren’t always aligned like they are now?”

  He shrugged again. “Even today there are those who practice the dark arts independently. They don’t necessarily have to be part of this Shadow Agency to get their hands on that knowledge. Many of them are content to learn spells that only benefit themselves, to gain wealth or fame, and pose no real threat to humanity.”

  “If they’re sacrificing people,” Megan protested, “I’d say that’s a threat.”

  “I meant on a global scale, darlin’. The ‘stragglers’ as I like to call them are still guilty for their crimes and deserve justice, it’s true, but the ones who have built this organization, who control the many structures of society, these cultists are trying to complete a Dark Year. They have to be stopped at all costs.”

  “You explained a little about these Dark Years last night,” she recalled. “How does it work, really?”

  “You already know some of it,” he replied. “A Dark Year is a certain time in which a numbered circle of these cultists must sacrifice a virgin female for thirteen consecutive new moons. Each sacrifice brings them more power, but if they ever complete the Cycle, they become almost unstoppable. They could dominate the world with no need to infiltrate the fibers of society. Some believe they may even gain immortality.”

  “Right,” Megan whispered. “I was ‘May.’ Sonny left to find ‘August.’ They preselected us.”

  Michael nodded. “It’s true. Interesting that they identified you by the months of the year. A Dark Year doesn’t have to occur within a calendar year. And one Dark Year could last anywhere from one to three calendar years. As long as they complete the Cycle within that timeframe, they complete the Dark Year.”

  Megan feared the answer to her next question. “Do they ever select a child?”

  Michael lowered his head. “The female must have hit puberty. As you know, her menstrual cycle has something to do with it. So, not really young children. But… young enough. But they tend to target older women. The older the virgin, the more rare, and therefore the more power they draw from the sacrifice.”

  “When does a Dark Year happen? How often? You didn’t answer me when I asked you last night.”

  “It’s random. No Keeper really knows until it’s about to occur. Then we sense it, the way we sense other supernatural phenomena. The last one occurred about ten years ago.”

  “Has a… Circle… or agent ever completed a Dark Year?”

  “History suggests so,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Completing a Dark Year doesn’t just give the cultist unlimited power. There are other effects. Big ones.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Alpha Magic comes from a different plane of existence,” he explained. “This dark magic also comes from such a plane. When someone completes a Dark Year, there are side effects. One is that the cultist usually goes mad with power. Another, well it’s told in legend that he opens a breach in which that plane of existence pours an overwhelming abundance of that magic into him. It’s like an earthquake that’s followed by severe aftershocks. The magic is evil, and if the breach is made, pain and suffering enter our world as well. Pain and suffering on a catastrophic level.”

  “What kind of pain and suffering?” She held the coffee to try to warm her hands, which had become like ice.

  “The effects are random, and never the same. Think of any dark time in history, and it’s possible it happened because of someone completing the Cycle.”

  “So you’re talking like, the Holocaust?”

  “Or the Spanish Inquisition. The Great Leap Forward. The Bubonic Plague. The Crusades. The complete eradication of the native peoples in the Americas by European Imperialism. The Great Depression. Long droughts or food shortages. Maybe even the outbreak of the AIDS virus. Some side effects in the form of a viral epidemic, some in which there’s a global deprivation of basic needs, some in the form of a sickness of the mind: the murdering of millions out of fear, prejudice, hatred, or greed.”

  Megan felt a shiver shoot up and down her spine as a thought came to her out of the blue. “War, Famine, Pestilence… Death.” The last word came out as a dreadful whisper.

  Michael raised an eyebrow and turned to her. “I never thought of it that way,” he said in just as dreadful a tone. “But… yeah. I think you’re right.”

  “All of those terrible events in history were side effects of cultists completing a Dark Year?

  “No, no,” he tried in vain to put her mind at ease, “not all. In truth, I don’t know if any of those examples were side effects. I’m saying that any of them could have been.”

  “So you’re saying that Hitler could have been an Agent of Shadow?”

  “It’s possible,” he suggested. “He certainly was mad with power. Don’t you find it strange that madmen like Hitler or Stalin somehow were able to win over the loyalty of an entire nation of people with their speeches of hate and fear, but those who strove for peace and brotherhood, like Gandhi, Lennon, or Martin Luther King Jr. wound up murdered? There are many in history who may have been involved with practicing dark magic. Hitler, Stalin, Julius Caesar, Cardinal Richelieu, Mao Zedong, Donald Trump…” Megan shot him a look of disbelief. Surprisingly, he looked back at her with a smirk. “Kidding.” Then his eyes returned their focus on the road as he added, “Then again, you never know with that guy.”

  She wanted to smack him, but understood the importance of comic relief in a tragic play, and found she appreciated his attempt at humor during so grave a topic. “Who’s Mao Zedong?” she suddenly wondered.

  “Responsible for one of the events I mentioned,” he said. “The Great Leap Forward. China, 1958 to 1962. Much worse than the Holocaust, but not as well known. Google it when you get a chance.”

  Megan suppressed a shiver. It was hard to accept that an event more appalling
than that brought on by the Third Reich could have happened so recently in history, and remain unheard of by most of today’s generation.

  “Even Ben Franklin may have meddled with the dark magic, some believe,” Michael added.

  “You’re shitting me!”

  He nodded in a way that told her he wasn’t. “While he was in Europe he befriended a man by the name of Sir Francis Dashwood. They formed an organization known as the Order of St. Francis, but in tighter circles was referred to as the Hellfire Club. Apparently they engaged in black ceremonies for their own purposes.”

  “The things they don’t tell you in school,” she tried to kid.

  “From what I’ve learned,” he continued, “I don’t think he and his friends were more than just a group of stragglers. Franklin was a horny bastard that seduced many women well into his late seventies, and was still able to… perform… if you know what I mean. It’s pretty obvious what extent of magic he focused on. Again, sinful crimes, but no threat on a global scale.”

  She shook her head in disbelief and disgust. “Benjamin Franklin, one of our founding fathers, murdered virgin women to enhance his libido…”

  “Okay,” Michael stopped her, “before I completely scar your childhood, let me backtrack a bit. Not all cultists who learn dark magic sacrifice virgin women, or even people for that matter.”

  “So, what?” she blurted out with a lump of anger in her throat. “They can sacrifice animals too?”

  He nodded. “The point of the thirteen sacrifices during a Dark Year is for ultimate power. But anyone who has committed their lives to that sacrilegious magic, in order to tap into it, needs to sacrifice any living thing. They steal the energies of one’s life force in order to fuel their power. We Keepers meditate until our spirits connect with that plane where the Alpha Magic exists, and we draw from it there. But if we stopped our meditations, the longer it is that we don’t go back into that transcendental state, the more our power… thins out, until it’s gone. With them, it’s the same thing, but their fuel is the life force of others.”