Gloom Rising (The Book Wielder Saga 1)

by Sean Davies

  Alice’s surrounding became a sickening blur. She saw flashes of screaming mouths and bloodshot eyes in an endless mound of exposed muscle. The stench of death was all around her, and she vomited heavily as she was wrenched upwards. Her world kept spinning as she was pulled above. Higher and higher she went, until she finally came to a stop floating amongst the stars. Her heart pounded so hard that her eyes flashed with every pulse, and the sense of vertigo was nauseating.

  All around her in a twilight sky were dim stars that sparkled intermittently. Beneath her was a seemingly endless sea of white and gold clouds, and directly before her were two glowing orbs of light.

  “Be calm, Alice Eve,” the two orbs said together in a serene airy voice. “You are not in any danger.”

  Suddenly, magically, the sense of fear and nausea were washed away from her. She felt at peace, but she didn’t let that lull her into a false sense of security. “What are you?” she demanded, reaching for her plasma pistol.

  “We are your Twin Goddesses,” they replied softly, “although in truth we are far from Gods.”

  “Lies,” Alice spat back. “Do not take me for a fool, foul creatures! If you wish to kill me then be done with it and drop this stupid charade!”

  “We are being honest. We will make you understand,” they replied calmly. “We could drop you right now if we wanted to harm you. Speaking to you would make no sense if that was our intention.”

  “It would if you wanted information. You’re not getting anything from me.” She put the plasma pistol to her own head.

  “Stop this please,” the orbs asked, and the pistol turned into a cloud of white smoke in Alice’s hand.

  Alice gasped and recoiled from the puff of smoke as it dissipated. “What do you want from me?”

  “We want to give you information,” the Goddesses said, “and then we need to ask a great favour of you.”

  Alice had run out of patience. Maybe this was all just a bad dream. “Fine, tell me then.”

  “We were once Book Wielders, like you...”

  “I’m not a Book Wielder. I don’t work for those foul Supernatural beasts!” Alice cut in.

  “Oh, but you are child,” the Goddesses said sadly. “Whether you accept it or not, it doesn’t change the truth. If you weren’t one, you wouldn’t be here with us. But being a Book Wielder doesn’t mean you work for the ones you call Supernaturals; it means that you are a Supernatural.”

  “No, no, I don’t accept that! I’m a good person, and if you are truly the Twin Goddesses then you would know that. I’ve lived by your code my whole life! How could I be a Supernatural?” Alice said hysterically, but in her heart she knew that she was a Book Wielder. She’d known it from the moment Edgar II had told her about them.

  “Being a Book Wielder doesn’t make you a bad person, nor does being a Supernatural. Their thoughts and actions determine whether they are good or bad, exactly the same as with regular humans,” The Goddesses explained. “Please listen to what we have to say and all will become clear.”

  “Okay,” Alice reluctantly agreed.

  “We belonged to a race called Archmages. We looked like you and lived like you, but we were immortal and possessed great power. We lived in harmony with humanity for a while, but a group of the most powerful Archmages took control of the world and enslaved humanity, who they deemed to be nothing more than animals. The trend continued until it became less acceptable to be tolerant than intolerant. My race was mad with power and did whatever they could do gain more. But since the beginning of time, there have been Book Wielders of both human and Archmage origin, and they are chosen by forces that even we cannot begin to fathom. If and when they die, the books find new chosen owners, and on rare occasions a completely new book manifests into reality to keep the numbers of Book Wielders steady. Their purpose was to regulate the use of magic and stop those who would abuse it. However, the tradition has faded and been forgotten, along with the true history of the world. ”

  “If you were supposed to regulate magic use then why didn’t you stop them?” Alice asked, trying not to sound too interested. She was still unsure of their intent.

  “Oh, we did,” the spheres of light said sadly. “They quickly became too strong for the human Book Wielders, and they killed them as soon they could find them. When their books chose a new owner, they too would be put to death. It wasn’t long before the power-crazed majority of my race was too much for even the Archmage Book Wielders to control. We who stood against the tyranny formulated a drastic yet necessary plan.”

  “You expelled them all from the world, including yourselves,” Alice whispered. The penny had finally dropped; she realised the truth, and she was indeed face to face with the beings whose legendary sacrifice had been the foundation of her religion.

  “Yes, child,” they said softly. “We, the twin sisters, possessed a powerful artefact that empowers a Book Wielder to their maximum potential. With this golden quill artefact we tore a hole in the fabric of reality and drained the magic from the world. We Archmages cannot survive without it, so we had no choice but to follow. Some did manage to stay, but their physical forms splintered into lesser beings. They lost their minds even more so and became the wild beasts that would lead to the creation of the Supernaturals, as you know them.”

  The clouds parted drastically to show the dark world beneath. The enormous mound of vile living muscle that she caught flashes of sat far below in a putrid black sea, it’s foul fleshy fingers wriggling in and out of the ocean like snakes of indefinite length.

  “The magic from the real world gave birth to a new world here in this dimension,” the Goddesses continued. “The majority of it settled as a big sphere of energy in this world’s version of your Central Isle, along with our race. With our mission completed we retreated from the others and went as high and as far away as we could. Far removed from the source of magic, we lost our physical forms and most of our power, but our minds stayed complete. The tyrants you see below were not so fortunate.”

  “That is what’s left of them?” Alice gasped.

  “Yes,” the Goddesses said, half pitying and half amused. “They had the same power, if not slightly more, than they did in the real world. They clung to the source and moulded the island below into whatever fantastic shapes they wanted. But their hearts were rotten and their minds seethed with dark intentions. It was their presence that degraded this plain into its current gloomy state. Some realised that the corruption was worse at the source, which acts like the heart of this dimension, and they tried to escape their fate, but they only managed to delay the degradation. Now they are nought but vile demonic lunatics.”

  Alice was interested by this newly uncovered history, but she was still confused as to where she fit into it. “Just why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because not all of the tyrants lost their minds or their powers. The most powerful amongst them fled the Isle and left the rest of their kind to their harsh fate. But they did not stay on the reflection of the continents like the others that had fled; they followed us.”

  The clouds swirled back into place and the world below moved quickly. Although it all looked the same, Alice could sense that it was moving at a tremendous speed, until finally a strange white and grey floating castle came into view. It had enchanting waterfalls, red tiled roofs, and dragon’s encircling it. It looked beautiful.

  The Goddesses continued their tale. “They rose up above just enough to mitigate the corrupting effect on their minds, but not so far that they would lose too much of their power. Their physical form was still subject to some unpleasant changes, however. In the castle you see below they formulated a plan to return to the real world, which involved merging the dimensions with the same quill artefact that we used to send them here. They found the quill but were unable to use it as none amongst them were Book Wielders, so the most powerful tyrant Archmage began merging himself with his brethren to increase his power. Some agreed willingly
and others fought back, but eventually all that remained was him, the overlord of my race known as Omniosis. To his immense rage he still did not have the power to wield the artefact, so he began a cunning scheme that would involve manipulating a human Book Wielder to do his bidding. All he needed to do was to make sure that the quill found its way into the hands of a worthy Book Wielder. As it so happens, it was claimed by one who may have the potential to be the greatest Book Wielder of all time.”

  Alice gasped. “The one who’s been bringing the puppet things to the real world!”

  “Exactly, child. He has been opening portals between the real world and this one for his own questionable purposes, but now Omniosis has begun his foul manipulative scheme.”

  “So you want me to kill this Book Wielder?” Alice guessed.

  “No, not at all!” the Goddesses said firmly. “He must live! Fate has chosen him twice; once as a Book Wielder, and secondly as the bearer of the quill. He just needs to be told the truth and put back on the path that fate has chosen for him. That is what we must ask of you. We need you to deliver this knowledge to the Book Wielder known as Winston Reynolds, but be warned; Omniosis may have anticipated our involvement and deceived him about us.”

  “So find this Winston, tell him what you’ve told me, and tell him that he’s being used. What if I should run into this Omniosis character?” Alice asked.

  The Goddesses begun glowing and soon Alice was shrouded in a cloud of light. She felt energised and full of life, her mind racing with knowledge she couldn’t quite grasp. She felt powerful – very, very powerful.

  “We have expended most of our remaining power to unlock your potential,” the Goddesses said weakly. “Gradually your mind will be able to grasp the knowledge we have imparted onto you. Should you be unfortunate enough to have a run in with Omniosis you will be able to hold your own, providing that he is not at full strength. The most versatile ability that Book Wielders should possess is now ready for you to implement. Do not fear your book as you have, for it will teach you all that you need to know to fulfil your destiny.”

  “And this versatile ability would be?” Alice asked eagerly.

  “The ability to fully negate the powers of others,” the Goddesses replied.

  Alice nodded gratefully. She finally had the ability to level the playing field in the war with the Supernaturals, and once she had passed on the Goddesses’ message and dealt with Omniosis, she would be able to put the world to rights again.

  “Now child, our powers are waning and we must send you back. We will not have the power to talk to you again, but do not forget that your book contains everything that you need to know and will guide you on the correct path. Good bye, Alice Eve.”

  Alice’s book floated up from below and hovered open in front of her. “I will, Goddesses. You have my word that I will find Winston and put a stop to this foul Omniosis character.” She touched the pages and began falling.

  She swirled in and out of reality as she fell towards the hideous remnants of the Archmage tyrants, and with the same stomach churning spin she landed painfully back on the burnt out ruins of Edgars study. The pain quickly subsided and Alice picked herself up out of the ash laden rubble. When she reached down to pick her book off of the floor, she noticed something sparkling under a slab of concrete. With a wrenching motion, she flung the slab to one side with her new found strength and looked down upon the Aurelius family heirloom.

  The war hammer’s strange crystal markings glowed with light and pulsed with magical energy. Alice had seen it many times but it had never appeared that way before; the Goddesses’ awakening must have made her aware of other magic forces around her. She now realised why the hammer had injured the puppet woman so greatly. It must have been enchanted in the ancient times to damage other Supernatural forces. With a tremendous lack of effort she plucked it off the floor and gave it a test swing. It was a light as a feather but still felt amazingly powerful.

  When she had collected the book from the floor she minimized it back down to notepad size and put it into her soot-covered trench coat. Then Alice made her way down to the currently unoccupied office toilets below to wash, taking her new weapon in the secret war, the enchanted war hammer, along with her.

  She went to one of the sinks and doused her face with handfuls of warm water. Soon the white ceramic sink was filled with sooty black water and the odd bit of grit. Alice pulled the plug out and it swirled down the plughole.

  As she watched it drain away, she contemplated how she would track Winston Reynolds down. He would be wary of her from the Archmage’s deceitful lies, so asking nicely for a quick chat was off the cards. She would have to get her forces on Imperia to track him down, detain him, and bring him to her at the Isle. She was sure that he was in the Capital City. He was most likely responsible for bringing the fat puppet man into the candy warehouse – her men there had died due to his actions. Once the Archmage was dealt with she would bring Winston to justice too, with the Goddesses’ approval or not.

  When she looked up into the mirror above the sink, her eyes were different; except for her pupils and a thin black line around her irises, they were now completely white.

  Chapter 11:

  The Chaos before the Storm – Part 1

  She pulled her hood as far over her face as it would go and walked past the Mayor’s men. They didn’t say anything as she walked through the portal. They knew better than to question her, but the humans and Supernaturals on the other side wouldn’t be so blasé. She had chosen to make her crossing during one of the routine trades between her world and the other, and if her timing was good then she should be able to slip out without a hitch. If not, then a bit of magic would do the trick.

  Walking through, she was hit by the intensity of the life around her. Life, light, and energy was everywhere and it filled her with enormous power. She had to shake it off quickly to dart behind some boxes before some chatting humans saw her. She was in the back of large shop, surrounded by stock and cardboard boxes. A Vampire suddenly looked tense and a Werewolf began sniffing the air. She doused herself in static distortion and they went back to unloading deliveries with the Mayor’s people.

  She slinked out of the shop into the real world’s night life. Although it didn’t look dark at the heart of the place they called the Capital City, buildings towered over her with most of their intact glass windows illuminated. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes zoomed past, and dozens, if not hundreds of pretty fleshy delicious looking people walked around and chatted casually.

  She walked down the street and no one paid her much attention. Her magic would obfuscate her from their minds; in short, their eyes would register her presence but their minds would shy away from the fact that she was there. It was a perfect spell for an assassin.

  Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her gaze was caught by a large poster pasted on the side of a brick wall. On it was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, discounting her old self. The woman was wearing a long tight red dress and holding a microphone on a tall metal stand. She had small pretty features on her face, cherry red lips, smooth pale skin, deep brown eyes, and a flowing cascade of chestnut coloured hair.

  The poster’s title read ‘Marissa Aluniana performing live at the Imperial Theatre all this week.’ A smile grew on her deformed demonic face. It was like the human woman was just made for her, and it seemed as though fate was definitely on her side tonight. Mortissa Aurorana had come to the real world in search of a new face, and now she was staring at her human doppelganger.

  She stalked the streets in search of the Imperial Theatre until she came to a place that reminded her of her home street, except that it was loud, colourful, and flooded with people. She saw her counterpart’s name up in glowing lights across an old but elegant theatre. It was the copy of her own Marionettes Playhouse theatre, and people queued for what seemed like the length of the street to see their songstress in action.

  There were too ma
ny people at the front entrance for her to get in undetected, even with her stealthy distortion magic, and the Archmage would punish her severely if she interfered with his and Winston’s plan. She slipped around back and peeked down the side of the building before smiling once again. The Imperial Theatre had the same side entrance that her theatre did. Two suited and well-built guards stood either side of the door, wearing pistols holstered on their hips.

  Mortissa walked out of shadows and approached them slowly. They saw her and moved their hands closer to their guns.

  “Hold it right there, missy,” one of them said.

  “You’ll have to queue with the rest,” the other said in a very bored tone.

  Mortissa reached into her cloak and then lunged at them in a flash of movement. The guards slumped backwards slightly but stayed upright against the wall. A thin, barely visible slither of metal pinned them both to the brickwork behind. She left the enchanted needles in their heads (anyone passing by would take them as two lazy guards leaning on the wall), and then she turned her focus to the door.

  It was a sturdy metal door painted dark red, and it was securely locked but she wasn’t surprised. Not even bothering to rummage in the dead guards’ clothing for a key, she placed her hand on the metal door and left it there for a few seconds. First the paint cracked and peeled, and then the metal behind flourished with rust and cracked with decay. After a mere few seconds, her deterioration magic had spread until most of the metal door was ruined, and then with a gentle tap the thing collapsed into a pile of old scrap.

  She made her way to where her room would be in her theatre. There were only a few people about and they were too busy to notice her, with or without her distortion magic. She found a door with a big gold star painted on it, and written on an interchangeable plaque in the centre of the star was the name ‘Marissa Aluniana’.

  Mortissa let herself in, making sure that she had her sharpest scalpel ready at hand.