“As you know, when I go into the Hall of Prophecies, my spirit receives the word of the Demiurge. It is only through dreams and day visions that the spirit relays it to my mind. We Dactyls have visions daily Rex, but as it relates to the Magia in particular, I have nothing. Just a bunch of burning crosses, horses and hungry pigs. No matter. But there is one thing, a conversation which The Prophet and I had just a few days past. When we Dactyls have visions, it is the duty of the Prophet to interpret the message and project it to those with open ears. I had a vision, Rex, of the masses and they were gods; destroying and creating. The tree of knowledge was burning, the cherubs whom protect it were destroyed. Upon his interpretation of the vision, the Prophet and his Order of the Star and Crescent are set to summon thousands of sheeple to the Obelisk of the West. It is to be a peaceful gathering where he will attempt a mass awakening,” Dante said.
Rufus's eyes squinted as he remembered tales of the last mass awakening. “As you know, mass awakenings are outlawed by the Council of Nine. It would cause universal disaster, not to mention, the Barons would have a fit. Look what the sheeple have done to the world with the inventions of the Gentlemen of the Haze. Bombs, weapons, and now the Prophet wants to give them magic?”
Dante nodded. “The sheeple are quite destructive, yes. But the Order of the Star and Crescent are not bound by the laws of the Council, which in turn makes them unresponsive to the laws of the Barons. The awakening will take place in two days’ time. Before then, he will summon all Orders to Temple Eliyon to feast in honor of the Great Hudna. Make sure you and your Knights are there. I alone will ascend to represent my order. I say, let's watch things play out. I do not believe there is a way to prevent it, nor should we put any energy into it. But, there is one other thing that does in fact concern me about the Prophet's intentions. We the Orders of Man have secured the secrets of the Demiurge since our inception. We protect the Order of the Grigori and those Watchers who taught our founders the magic which we procure. To wake the masses will be devastating. If the dead are given the food of the gods, the living dead they will become. To open their eyes without proper knowledge and initiation will be disastrous. They would destroy the world Rufus,” Dante said, as the prickling of his scalp caused him to scratch it.
Rufus stared at him with his dark eyes waiting for Dante to finish his thoughts.
“The Prophet believes war is coming and wishes to swell our ranks with Hidden ones like ourselves. He smells the scent of Heaven in the morning dew and I believe it frightens him. He suggests, that if they do fall that we propose a truce. I did not see angels present in my vision, but dear Rufus, I know there are a few who walk amongst us on the Upper Earth. We cannot make peace with them until we have made peace amongst our own. Enmity still exists between several of our orders. There are those who wish entry into the Council, and those who still do not honor the Pact. It is my fear that The Prophet will unintentionally agitate war. Especially, if he chooses to improperly awaken the masses. Angels would be the least of our worries as we would be at war with ourselves. Those we have vowed to keep safe, these sheeple, will become our enemies. We must keep a watchful eye. I’m sure thousands of sheeple will catch the attention of the other Orders as well.”
“And just how does the Prophet plan on luring sheeple by the thousands?” Rufus asked, his arms still folded.
“You know as well as I, that the calm demeanor of the Prophet has within him the power of the greatest orator. He promises truth, a solution to spiritual and physical entrapment. Sheeple suffer, and will be drawn to anyone who can offer a solution to end that suffering,” he answered.
Rufus sighed, wrinkling his forehead. “Well, where there is war, or angels, so too will be the Magia. Until then, I'll have a beer and smile,” Rufus said looking back towards the sky.
“Well in any case, another reason for my visit was not for myself, but my understudy Callan. He has spent his whole life in the Parthenon. If he is to secede me one day, he must elevate his thinking. His anger worries me as you know we Dactyls tend to attract that which we project. He has already crossed words with a Warlock and as you know, they tend to hold grudges. The lad does not understand that judgment is not his to enforce. I would like for him to come stay here at Temple Salamanca with you and your Knights to expand his mind, and see who you really are. Callan will not grow without it,” Dante said as the ground beneath them began to shake.
A loud rumble caused even the dragon to lift its head and it began to unleash a dreadful scream. It started to fly off but suddenly fell dead before their feet. The beautiful topiaries around them began to crumble to dust; the lush, green vines wrapped around the columns of the veranda turned to sticks.
“Death approaches,” Dante said gripping his staff hard. Rufus, who was unarmed, stood unmoved as he grounded himself; ready to defend with his Magia.
“Stay back old friend,” Rufus said as he took a battle stance in front of Dante.
The front doors of the temple opened and two Black Knights came running out to see about the commotion. Jin-Lu and D'Artagnan, were armed and ready taking position behind Rufus. A thick mist befell their surroundings and the air was foul, like that of rotting flesh.
“For fucks sake! The Unnamed have come to pay Magia Rex a visit! I know you’re here, so show yourself since you’re putting on a god damned show!” Rufus shouted.
Three hooded figures appeared before him. To the eye their form was solid, but to the hand they were as thick, misty specters which one could not grab a hold of. A haze spread about them, blotting out the light of the moon and stars; trapping all four men in their foulness. There was a dark laugh from amongst the haze which had Dante frozen in fear where he stood.
“Oh, behold Knights! The fucking dead has arisen! Killing my plants and stinking up my temple!” Rufus shouted.
“We await the coming of the dead times,” they said, in an ominous, collective voice; pouncing at Dante. Rufus jumped in front of him and raised his hand, using his Magia to keep the hooded figures suspended in the air.
“What a sad existence you have. Always leeching for a warm body. Pathetic. Who has summoned you?” Rufus ordered.
“We come to the call of the Dactyl. He who whispers to the realm of the dead,” they said. Rufus frowned as he turned his head to Dante, who was clearly afraid of the Unnamed. Screeching and fighting for release, their requests were granted when a large, burning cross impaled them from the side; falling upright into the ground before the Knights and Dactyl.
“Shit,” D'Artagnan said under his breath, as Rufus began to clap in frustration.
“Ah, Baron La Croix, what brings you down to our low, and humble existence?” Rufus asked with a slight attitude.
Baron La Croix began to take the form of a tall black man with long white hair. His face was cold, like looking at death himself, his eyes solid white; the same as his suit and top hat. He grabbed the cross which he used as his staff and adjusted his hat looking in the direction of a very nervous D'Artagnan.
“Oh, the melee that is life and death. It seems at first glance that they are the ultimate arch enemies of existence. Polar opposites if you will. But you, Magia Rex, know that life can exist without death. The flesh dies, but the spirit lives. Life is eternal. Birth and death is a more suitable pairing as they are co-dependant; serving as gateways for various levels of existence. In this realm, death is simply the passage by which all things must travel. All things but you of course. Yet, death is simply another form of life, just as darkness is a form of light. We are of such a dual nature that the order of the seven principalities is maintained. However, the balance has never recovered since the first Light Wars. There has been another knock at the door Magia Rex. The sons of the light wish to blot out the darkness and suffocate us once again with their bright hue,” La Croix said.
Rufus folded his arms and Dante swallowed hard.
“It is as I have seen it then, the world collapsing,” he said.
“And why in the hell
is a Baron warning us of angelic threat? That’s never happened before. As I remember it, you Barons watch as the world burns. You don’t give a shit about humanity, especially if we aren’t diligent with offerings,” Rufus said.
La Croix laughed, stepping closer to the angry Knight.
“Silly man. We Barons always protect you, even if you don’t know it. And while we too have our reasons for involving ourselves, or not, the answer to your question is quite simple. If Malkuth collapses, the tree shall fall. There are humans who will see it done because they believe that the angels are benevolent creatures coming to raise them to Heaven. They send their vibrations to the manifestation of an idea which they believe will bring about peace. But peace is not the way of this world. Malkuth was not created to shine just one hue of light as it is the foundation for all hues. We Barons will do as we must to maintain the barrier between the light and darkness, but it is time that you Hidden Ones play a bigger role in the saving of this world. Why else would you be given such power?” La Croix explained.
“The Magia already play a bigger role.”
“Yet, your Round Table sits like a half baked pie, missing a few slices. I am not here to tell you how you must step your game up, only that you must do so. I come to give warning, because in this case; shit rolls uphill,” La Croix said, tipping his hat off.
He took the form of hundreds of white bats and disappeared. The Knights lowered their weapons as they no longer felt the presence of the Unnamed or the Baron, but their faces were all but excited.
“Fuck me!” Rufus shouted as he looked towards Dante. “Who have you been speaking your darkness to?” he stormed, causing Dante to cower.
“I have made no such offense Rex. All that I see is not spoken, it is written just as always,” Dante replied.
“The Unnamed came for a Dactyl. If not you, then who?”
“I know not, but I shall inquire. This has sent me to angst.”
“D'Artagnan, take Mr. Dante back to the Parthenon. The Dactyls are protected from the Unnamed there --”
“But not from Barons! They go where they choose. We Dactyls are defenseless against them,” Dante said.
“No, not defenseless. You see the future, Dante. If you see something coming for you, you can prepare for it. Keep your eye opened. Now then, Jin-Lu, do something with this fucking dragon. He'll have the whole temple smelling like a god damn trash compactor!” Rufus said handing Dante his staff.
“I’m just not in the mood for this. I don’t have time.”
“Exactly! I was having a fucking fantastic evening!” Rufus shouted, agreeing with Jin-Lu.
Jin-Lu’s hair, which fell past his knees, began to tie itself in a bun on top of his head. It had a life of its own, becoming one of his greatest weapons when he allowed his powers to take control. During his tenure as a young Black Knight, he encountered a spirit which he called Ping-deng and it took refuge in his hair. As he grew in power, Ping-deng followed suit; causing his hair to grow the length of his body. Ping-deng became a part of him and he never had the heart to kill it. He took off his robe as not to get it dirty and began levitating the dead dragon away from the temple.
“Killed my god damn plants!” Rufus continued to fuss as he stomped towards the temple entrance. “You and your Dactyls better stay within the confines of the Parthenon until we figure this out. Don't hesitate to come for me, I don't care how small it is. Send your boy anytime, we'll loosen his belt,” Rufus said bidding Dante farewell.
As Rufus entered the temple, he was met by Claudius and Caden; both eating bowls of Jin-Lu's hot spice soup.
“Did we miss something?” Claudius asked in his low, monotone voice. Claudius was much shorter than Caden; standing at 5'11. His silver hair was cut in a short fade which appeared to shimmer when the sun was at the right angle. His silvery, blue eyes were covered by a pair of round glasses, and he wore a blue housecoat and matching slippers.
Caden smiled with dimples to die for. His disheveled brown layers fell just past his ears, which held one inch gauges. He had incredible green eyes and spoke with a slight lisp which the guys often made fun of.
“Fucking Unnamed playing peek-a-boo and Baron La Croix burning crosses in my yard. I don't have time for that shit!” Rufus said throwing his hand up, walking towards the library.
Rufus made sure he was alone and walked towards the back, lifting a book which opened a secret door. He reached for his phone for the light to guide him to the torches which he lit. The Room of Histories, he said to himself, as he walked about the aisles full of scrolls and loose parchments.
He picked up a scroll with a broken seal and unraveled it. The smell of aged parchment and dust bombarded his nose. Signs and Omens Preceding the Coming of the Seven Horns, was the title written across the top in perfect, Old English calligraphic script. The Prophet who pinned accounts of his days began with a battle with Gabriel; one of particular interest to Rufus.
As he delve into the text, the sounds of clanging swords overwhelmed him. Texts involving angels always caused him to recall his battles from the old Roman days vivid to his senses, but could not remember his life before receiving the Curse of Cain which prolonged his life.
The screams of the dying permeated through his skull; the dead crying by his own hands. Rufus threw the scroll on the floor and grabbed his head attempting to piece together a simple truth. Angels and death, he whispered, still perplexed about the true reason for the Baron's visit.
Barons and Unnamed, they are spirits of the dead, but angels are something entirely different. I don’t understand, he continued to say to himself. He walked towards the end of the shelf and reached for a scroll with the seal of the 66th Prophet.
The loud pop echoed throughout the quiet room as he broke the seal, reading the prophecy of the Fourth Reckoning.
“I write to attest that the signs that were told to he who walked upon the clouds bore witness to the coming times on the lone Isle of Patmos. I too traveled to the land and climbed the mountain for thirty-two days for revelation. The thunder of the Red Axe clashed upon Heaven’s steel and as I ran, there I saw a frightening thing. Upon the hill I beheld a white horse. The rider was given a bow by which he pierced the hearts of man and a crown was placed upon his head by the divine, and with it, he conquered the weak and morose.”
Rufus smoked three cigars, reading the prophecy in its entirety as he had never done. Horses before horns. I will meet them with my sword, he said to himself as he meditated on the prophetic words. Rufus was not one to back down from war, but angels played a hard game as they often felt it their duty to kill millions during their missions.
He thought about the preparation of his Knights for the coming times and was pleased. They were ready, just so few. As there were twenty-one seats around the Round Table, only twelve were filled; one by an Alchemist which he didn't trust.
He left the Room of Histories to be met by Claudius in the outer library; his favorite room in the temple. “I know that look. And there is a remedy. You could make him choose,” he said, referring to Messalla, the Alchemist.
“If he chooses us, who is to say he won’t give our secrets away. He has not been initiated as Magia, yet --”
“Sits at our table. I don’t know how the name of an uninitiated Alchemist was drawn from the chalice, but I am suspicious. There is a magical reason I’m sure,” Claudius interjected.
“Aye. While there is no rule that states a Black Knight must be Magia, it has always been that way since the time of Achilles. That fucking Mila doesn't know what she’s done. Do you know she’s also allowed the Alchemists entry into the Blue Palace?” he asked, as Claudius looked at him from over his glasses.
“That bodes for disaster.”
“Right. I understand she wants to unify the orders, and honestly, the Blue Palace is the best place for that to happen. But there is too much bad blood, too much shit that is still going on for us to unify. Solon would take my head at first chance, and the feeling is mutual. Each of
our orders has its own set of issues which we deal with internally, but sometimes that spills over into something else. Because you know Claude, if something happens to Mila by the hand of an Alchemist, Cesare will start a war like no other. He's mad crazy for that woman and I can’t say I don’t blame him,” Rufus said with a hard, serious look on his face.
“Cesare is indeed the perfect Knight Rufus. A loose cannon? Absolutely, but that's sort of a requirement for a spot at the table. He's calmed down a hell of a lot since his days as a red coat. Besides, we were not always so, lax,” Claudius added as he fluffed his newspaper and continued reading.
Rufus nodded and headed for the Grand Rotunda to gather his thoughts. The Grand Rotunda was a large, round room; its walls decorated with weapons and trophies of war. Rufus ran his fingers along the dull side of his blade; fashioned from Gehenna, the black metal which fell from the sky during the first Light War. The Knights quickly learned that Gehenna blades were the only weapon that could kill Powers; their Magia making them physically capable to hold them.
Each earned their blade after initiation which in turn gave those Magia who sat at the Round Table the title of Black Knight. As it was, not all Magia were called to become Black Knights, only those chosen by the Whore of Naissance, whose spirit was contained in the Chalice and knighted by the Magia Regina.
Rufus’ eyes glanced around the expansive Round Table while sitting on the throne of Magia Magnificent Rex. One by one, he read the names carved into the empty thrones: Claudius Meridius, D'Artagnan Boursiquot, Caden St. Claire, Lancelot Borgia, Jack Hammer, Messalla, Jin-Lu, Quintus Nash, Colton Ray Bullock, Adonis Maragos, and Cesare Borgia. The last chair was designated for the high priest, Melzek.
The wood of the table was painted black and white, forming a large pie with embedded swords before each throne; also bearing the names of the Knights. Rufus could feel a storm coming in his gut, but he hoped his own desires would not go unfulfilled in the meantime.
Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1) Page 4