by P B Hughes
Then, after a century passed, the evil the humans had fled—found them. Black ships appeared on the horizon, and Vut’Al Choshek arrived, bringing with him a horde of goblins. He offered a new power to anyone who might join him—a power not of this world, but of his world: the power of the Nosfertu. The Cythes quickly joined with Vut’Al Choshek along with some humans who did not possess the Primal Energy. Now that the Cythes had their own power, war broke out between the army of Vut’Al Choshek, and the fairies and humans. Ultimately, a power that transcends the Primal and Nosfertu energies defeated Vut’Al Choshek and his minions—sealing him behind the Gate of Worlds ever since.”
“I’ve heard that story before,” Daniel interjected. “Well, a similar one at any rate. But everyone knows it’s just a myth.”
“It’s not a myth—it’s history!” Marriott exclaimed. “And I have proof. Now listen, for there is much I need to tell you. After the banishment of Vut’Al Choshek, the Guardians began to hunt down any man or Cythe who possessed the Nosfertu to exterminate them. They were herded like cattle into pins and slaughtered—justified because of the claim that this dark energy might be used to release Vut’Al Choshek from his prison. Men, women, even some children born during that time—it did not matter. But there was one, a powerful man, who wished to see an end to the killing. But he could not destroy the Nosfertu any more than you can destroy the air or light. So he found a way to bind the energy—to block it from being used. He sealed the Nosfertu inside the Isilia Stone and gave it to the Guardians to pacify them, with a promise that they would end the killing. But the man was wise. He knew that the Guardians might not keep their promise, so he made a key, a key that could only be used by those who possessed the power of the Nosfertu to unlock it—the Nosfertu Scroll. The scroll is blank to the normal man, but to a human endowed with the dark energy—a carrier, if you will—it could be read.”
Daniel’s eyes grew wide with understanding. “So Jude—Jude is a carrier. That’s why he could read the scroll.”
“Very good,” said Marriott with a smile. “Years went by, and the Guardians of old passed away. The new Guardians still hated the Cythes for the atrocities committed long ago, and would send spies to gather information on them. Through this, they managed to learn of the scroll’s existence from a particularly foolish Cythe. Shortly after, the Guardians stole the scroll. With the scroll in their possession, they resumed their hunt for any living Cythe—nearly killing them into extinction. But some escaped, living in secret and shadow until the time came for them to regain power in the world.”
“What about the humans who possessed the Nosfertu?” asked Daniel. “Why weren’t they killed off too?”
“It was impossible for them to know which humans possessed the power. So the humans lived on, inheriting the Nosfertu, its power diminishing through every generation until it was thought to be all but gone from humanity. Gone was the hope that the Cythes would ever regain their old power. Their destiny was to live in shadow for the rest of their days. They ceased to care if they possessed the Isilia Stone or the scroll for both were useless to them—artifacts that only interested monks and historians. But then, after so many years of their precious energy waning, the Cythes sensed a sudden spike—a great increase in the Nosfertu. They knew a child of great power—greater than all others before him—must have been born. Elated, they began to hunt for him, spanning the breadth and width of Orsidia. After a year of searching, they came upon a family—an ordinary man and woman, and, to their great surprise, not just one child, but twins. The Cythes tried to steal the children, but the mother and father resisted, and in their flight the Cythes killed them.
“Wait—twins? Do you mean Jude has a twin?”
“Indeed he does.”
Daniel paused for a long while, and then whispered. “Caden.”
“Yes, Jude and Caden—twins, pulled from their family in their infancy. The Cythes kept the boys for a short while—but then, a set of instructions came to them saying they must give the boys up to be raised as Miraclists.”
“Instructions from whom?” asked Daniel.
Marriott flinched, eyes darting from side to side. “I cannot say—but they obeyed and sent both boys to an orphanage. Caden was adopted by Mr. Baine, but Jude was never adopted. A sad thing to separate brothers, but those running the orphanage did not care. Mr. Baine needed an heir with promise, for his wife was barren. So when Caden was discovered to be a Miraclist, he was taken. Jude, still going unnoticed, was left in the orphanage, all the while under the watchful eye of the Cythes until his powers surfaced. It was the Cythes who taught Jude to read and write.”
A shudder passed through Daniel. “And then they sent Jude to Mordecai when no one adopted him?”
Marriott nodded. “Precisely. In the meantime, the Cythes stole the Isilia Stone from a museum in the far south. Then, they began their hunt for the last piece of the puzzle: the Nosfertu Scroll. However, through treacherous means, word of their plot reached the ears of Emperor Oran. The Cythes acted quickly; with the help of a monk named Specula Greavus, they assassinated the Emperor and the rest of the royal family. All…save one. The heir to the throne—the Emperor’s only son—was rescued by the members of the Monks of Delintu. The boy was spirited away by a monk named Raymond Findley. Enraged, Greavus gave chase. He captured and killed Raymond, but somehow the boy escaped.
And that is when Greavus rose to power. The man emerged from the monastery and fed the kingdom a lie—that the assassins who killed the Emperor were actually dissident Irachnians, and to fear not, for the Emperor’s son was well protected across the sea. He told them that the prince would return on his sixteenth birthday to rule.
While Raymond Findley took the prince westward across the sea, another monk, Arthur Octurion, moved the Nosfertu Scroll northward carrying with him a very special item: the heir’s gryphon egg. An egg containing a beast bred and blessed to be the steed of the Emperor himself when he came of age. The two items—the egg and the scroll—were hidden away, but it was only a matter of time before they were found…and before the egg hatched.”
“Shade,” said Daniel, his eyes widening. “Shade was meant to be the Emperor’s! But why—why did she come to our school?”
“The Emperor’s steed will always return to her rider.”
Daniel’s head swarmed like a hive of bees. “You mean…I…I am the Emperor’s son?”
“When I saw you upon the black gryphon, the pendant shining around your neck—I knew. I knew it was you: you are not just the Emperor’s son, Daniel, now you are the Emperor himself.”
Daniel stared blankly at Marriott, unable to absorb the information. It was not possible, there was just no…but then again, there was his mysterious past, his connection with Shade, the pendant around his neck.
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you in league with the Cythes?” he asked.
“I thought you would have figured it out by now,” said the judge darkly. Suddenly, his eyes became as black as the night sky, dripping tears of slippery ink. A dark fog emanated from his mouth, puffing, pouring out steadily until his whole body was covered. And then, the fog vanished, revealing a monster—slick headed, earless, reptilian. “You see?” he hissed. “I am one of them!”
Daniel held up his staff, his eyes flashing.
“Fear not,” said Marriott, shrinking back. “I will not harm you. I simply wished for you to know the truth.”
“Who else? Who else is a Cythe? Greavus?”
Marriott’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice. “No—not Greavus. That filthy man is in league with us only for the promise of more power. I cannot tell you who else are Cythes. I must protect my people. Nahash has kept our appearances like humans so that we could live among you until the time was ripe—but he cannot keep it so at all times. It is highly exerting.”
“But how did Nahash do that if he couldn’t tap into the dark energy?”
“He is the one, Daniel! He is the man who locke
d away the power of the Nosfertu into the stone. By doing so, he blocked the power, but kept himself untouched.”
Daniel’s mouth fell open in shock. “But that would mean—that would mean he’s thousands of years old!”
“An immortal being—one from the dawn of creation.”
“Then why didn’t he just unlock it himself? Why did he need Jude—and why did he do it at the Investiture?”
“Nahash is not a human. In his conjuring to lock the Nosfertu, he had to use the power of Vut’Al Choshek—a human. Thus, for reasons unbeknownst to us, only a human could unlock it. As for why he did it at the Investiture? Well, Greavus knew that nearly every Miraclist alive would attend the Grand Investiture, so that is where they chose to activate the scroll and use the Nosfertu to inhibit the Miraclist’s power…And exterminate them, just like those with the Nosfertu were exterminated, all those years ago.”
Daniel felt a rage boil up within him like he had never experienced. “Murderer!” he cried. “How could you do such a thing?”
“I did not wish for it to be so!” Marriott wailed. “All I wish is for my people to live in this world in peace, out of hiding. The Nosfertu gives us the ability to defend ourselves. Greavus—Nahash, and the rest of my people want revenge! They believe there can be no peace.”
“But why me? Why not tell someone else?”
Marriott stared at Daniel in a strange, catatonic way. “They will release him, Daniel.”
“Who?”
“Vut’Al Choshek—they will release him, and you are the only one who will be able to stand against him! You are special. You are not just the Emperor, you are the D’Luce! You can bring peace to our world!”
“Me—what?”
“I saw it—I saw the power in you—you used it to break the barrier. They do not know, not yet! But they will find out. And when they do…”
“Find out what?”
“The holy energy! There is energy above the Primal and Nosfertu energies. An energy given by only the Creator himself—the power to—”
Marriott stopped. He looked at Daniel with the queerest expression. Then, he let out a deep gasp, and then began to choke. Black tar began to gurgle out from his mouth and dribble down his chest.
“Help…me!”
Daniel whirled around, pounding on the jail door. Tiberius and Mordecai rushed in.
“He’s dying!” Daniel cried.
“No—no, Nahash, please, you can’t!” A cry—shrill, piercing, and horrible—burst forth from Marriott as he lurched upward against his chains.
Daniel reached up and clinched his locket.
“What in blazes?” cried Tiberius, looking at Marriott’s disfigured form.
Then, Marriott slumped in his chains.
“Daniel—what happening?” asked Mordecai. “Is that a—”
“Humans,” growled a deep, eerie voice from Marriott—a voice that was not his own. It was the same voice that had possessed Jude several nights ago. His head raised slowly, his veins rising, turning black, and creeping across his body. “Prepare yourselves, for the time is nigh. No one is safe. No one can stand. All will perish. War is coming.”
Then, with one final reel against the chains, Marriott let out a terrible scream of agony. And then he breathed his last.
THE END OF BOOK ONE
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The Tales of Orsidia continue in Book 2 of the series, Guardian, available in 2017.
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About the Author
P. B. Hughes is the author of the Tales of Orsidia series, which started with Miraclist. He studied creative writing at Southern Methodist University. After ghost writing several novels, he decided to take up the pen and strike out on his own. Philip currently lives in Dallas, Texas.
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